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Safari Wife (Part Four) NOTE: Before reading this story I would suggest that you read parts one, two and three first. That will bring you right up to date as to what's happening with Brandy and Hank on their first African Safari. (Wail on Safari a little white housewife gets to see the real African Men!) Safari Wife In part three of this story, Brandy was more or less raped again by the Chief Zoomama and three black tribe members. Three of which had cum inside her unprotected womb. In the passed they had given her this drink called kekpa that made her so horny she was ready and willing to fuck a tiger. And that same drink would knock Hank out for the night. But on this day she was tied down and totally sober. As they say, it's hard to rape the willing! This all happened wail she was left alone in the village as her husband Hank went on a hike with Jameraka the safari guide and a group of his helpers. Upon returning from his hike Hank found Brandy sitting in a clearing all alone. She then filled him in on what had just happened to her, yet again. Brandy was really surprised how much Hank was enjoying her getting screwed by these black men. In fact he was so overwhelmed that he took her right then and there to their hut and fucked her sloppy wet pussy. As they were in their hut screwing away Hank had to hear her tell all the details of the day. How many times she came? How good them long black cocks felt inside her? Also if she was going to let him watch her fucking one or more of them? Then what really blew Bandy out of the water was when Hank went down on her and sucked his and three other men's cum out of her wet pussy. This was a big turning point in both their lives. Nothing like had ever happened back home in Chicago. She had never even dreamed of getting screwed by four guys in a row. Or even screwing black guys for that matter! She had never looked at blacks in that way. Now on this safari so far the Chief and guide Jameraka took turns screwing her all night long one night. And again today the Chief and three others took turns screwing her. Hank hasn't seen this happen yet and was begging her to do it for him. Hank had already talked her into walking around the village dressed in just sexy little bras and panties. So after the great sex they had just had, Hank was now asking her to go topless in front of the tribe. Brandy was thinking, "What in the hell have we turned in to?" Now, on with the story, picking up right where it left off. Now after our hot and humid sex in the hut was over I told Hank, "lets go down to the river and clean up before dinner." Having said that I got up and slipped back on my little black lace bikini panties that I had worn down to the river earlier that morning to bath. They had dried out nice hanging in the hot hut all day. Next I took my black lace matching bra off the hook and started putting it on. Watching as I dressed Hank then said, "come on Brandy leave the bra here. Please go topless for me! You have no idea how hot that would be for me to see all these villagers checking out your nice tits." I started to protest but then just gave in and said, "Okay it's your call! If you like guys seeing my bare boobs you got your wish," as I flung my sexy little bra to at him. "Mmmmmm that's my girl" he moaned as he got up and patted me on the ass. I grabbed some towels, soap and shampoo as Hank jumped back in his shorts. Stepping out of our hut for the first time, totally topless was one hell of a rush for me. And Hank also I'm sure. We headed down the trail that leads to the river slash waterfall. I felt so strange walking through the village with my boobs bouncing all over my chest as my hard nipples pointed the way we were going. All the tribal men couldn't keep their eyes off my boobs as we passed through the village. I said to Hank, "God these guys act like they've never seen boobs before". Don't forget, as I said in part one of this story, I'm only a size 34 B cup. So it's not like I'm super big busted or anything. For that matter most of the tribal females have boobs that hang down to their waists. So I didn't see the big deal about my boobs. Other than the fact that my nipples look to be always hard and pocking out! Hank replied, "shit Brandy, you have the best looking tits in this place. These guys have never seen good-looking tits before. And they are white, which drives black guys wild. Look at all these black girls, their tits look sick they way they hang on their chest. And your hard nipples are to die for". Having said that he gave my right breast a little squeeze as we walked on. I hit him on the arm and said, "He was terrible for talking like that. They have all been so nice to us. You shouldn't talk about their boobs like that". Laughing Hank said," well the guys have been a lot nicer to you than the girls have been to me! Maybe I should try to get me a little black pussy?" I hit his arm again and said, "I'll give you black pussy. You better stay out of that black pussy!" Stopping in our tracks Hank looked at me and said, "so you get to try black cock, lots of black cocks and I can't have any black pussy? Is that what your saying?" Not sure how to reply to that I just said, "honey it's like this. I didn't set out to screw any of these black guys. They gave me something in that kekpa drink that turned me into a, I don't know what. But in any case I didn't go to them trying to get myself fucked. They more or less tricked me into having sex with them. So if they do that to you, I'll be okay with it. But if you just go get yourself a black woman to screw, I wouldn't like that." Smiling at me Hank then said, "baby I'm just giving you shit. I'm not looking to fuck any of these girls here. Hell I hate saggy tits it totally turns me off. You have all the pussy that I need, and your hot looking with nice tits. Sick as it sounds I love the fact that you're getting to try some strange cock. Enjoy it baby you'll not have this opportunity once we get back home." Then patting me on my panty cover ass again we kissed and then headed on down to the river. Once under the waterfall we both washed ourselves up really good. I did a lot of washing inside my panties trying to clean up all the sperm that I had all over myself. It seemed like it was never going to stop leaking out of me. Now that we were both nice and clean we headed back to our hut to dress for dinner. And the truth is, I was starting to enjoy showing off my breasts to all the tribal men as we made our way back. Back in the hut Hank took me in his arms and kissed me. He broke the kiss and said, "Man all them guys loved your tits." He then tweaked my hard left nipple and said, "lookie here, you liked showing them as much as they liked seeing them!" I smiled at him and replied, "You're liking this way to much." "Liking it, hell I'm loving it. I love the fact that I have something that every guy here would love to sink his cock into, and that would be you! And don't lie and say your not enjoying showing off in front of all these guys," Hank replied. Again I just smiled and said, "I think you're enjoying this a lot more than I am." Now playing with both my hard nipples Hank said, "bullshit, these nipples are telling the true story. You like this as much as I do!" He was right it was turning me on. I still don't understand what kind of people we had turned into. Just then Jameraka knocked on the side of out hut and yelled that dinner would be served in about twenty minutes. Hank put on some clean shorts and a tee shirt. I slipped on a little pair of side-tie white leopard and rose print panties. The front was a little v and the back covered my butt nicely. As I was tying the right side of my sexy little panties Hank moaned, "Oh fuck Brandy the guys at dinner are going to like them little panties." After getting them tied and in place I turned all the way around modeling them for Hank and said, "So ya think the guys will like these?" Smiling from ear to ear Hank replied, "Fuck yes their going to like them. Every guy here is going to wish they could get inside of them tonight. What ya think? Are you going to let someone get inside them sexy little panties?" Looking at him I said, "You would really and truly like to see that happen? You in fact would like to watch some guy fuck me?" "Oh God yes baby, I would love to see your face as your cumming all over some big black cock deep inside your pussy" Hank replied. "Will you make that happen tonight for me baby," as he took me in his arms and kissed me. Half mad and half turned on by the idea of doing it in front of Hank, I decided to call his hand. I looked him in the eyes and said, "Okay, if I'm going to do this we need some kind of a plan!" My plan was this. When they pass out the kekpa at dinner tonight you take it and some how dump yours on the ground and don't drink it. It turns me into a wild horny slut so I'll just drink mine. After you dump two or three cups out start acting like your passing out. Once it looks like you're totally passed out Chief Zoomama will have two or three of his men haul you back to our hut. By that time I'm sure the kekpa will have me in the mood for anything. So once things get started I'll not go to their hut, I'll make them go to ours. You just continue to act like your passed out and watch what ever happens. "Wow that's a great plan. You'll really go through with this," Hank asked. Trying to smile I said, "Yes Hank I will if that is what you want me to do. But you have to know up front that kekpa makes me wild. You wouldn't be mad at me if I enjoy what's happening to me will you?" "Hell no I'm not going to be mad at you," Hank replied. "Hank I mean I might really, really enjoy what's happening to me! I might even have a few orgasms! You'll be okay if that happens," I asked? Smiling Hank said, "Fuck yes I'll enjoy that. The more they make you cum the happier I'll be. So you're going to do it?" "Okay love, I'm going to try," I said to him as we kissed again. I couldn't believe that he was so willing to see this happen. I then picked up a little white lace bra and started putting it on as I continue getting dressed for dinner. Just then Hank pulled the bra off me before I got it hooked. Looking at me he said, "No bra baby, just wear what ya go on!" I shock I said, " no way Hank. I can't go out wearing just these little panties; they don't hide much at all! Please let me wear the bra." "Nope, you're going to dinner tonight just like the rest of the females in this village, topless. I don't see the big deal. Hell most the guys here have seen your tits by now. So when in Africa do like the Africans. Plus baby their not going to be looking at your tits anyway. Your ass looks so sweet clad in them sexy little panties, you'll be lucky if they don't rape ya before we get to the table." He then kissed me again and gave my panty cover ass a squeeze. I pulled away from him and said," fine if that's what you want fine. Maybe tomorrow I'll just walk around totally nude all day. Will that make you happy?" Smiling Hank said, "Hmmmm that would make a lot of people happy." Running my brush through my hair I gave him one of them looks that only a wife can give and said, "You're an asshole. Okay let's go so I can show everybody my fucking tits an keep your ass happy!" Holding the door open for me Hank said, "You got it, and we are going with your little plan tonight right?" Mad as all hell I said, "Yes we'll go with the plan. Everybody here is going to see your wife's tits. And all the men may get to fuck me tonight. That's the plan, I hope you're happy with that?" "I'm very happy with that, lets go, " as we stepped out of our hut and headed to the eating area. Hank was so proud as we made our way through the village. People were seeing his wife in a way that know one should ever see a man's wife. Topless and wearing a pair of the sexiest little panties that Victoria's Secret sells. Boobs bounce around on my chest with nipples sticking out as hard as rocks. I was so embarrassed as we walked up to the long table to take our sets. Every eye there was on my breasts, crotch and ass. Chief Zoomama and Jameraka kept eyeing me from head to toe as I sat down. Jameraka welcomed us both to dinner and the Chief said something but who knows what. We just smiled back at him and shook our heads. The last time we sat at this table I was seated next to Chief Zoomama with Hank on my other side. This time they had me sit between Chief Zoomama and Jameraka, with Hank next to the Chief. Once we were all seated and ready to eat it was just like before. Drums started and both male and female tribal people started dancing and jumping around in time with the beat of the drums. Other people started bring out food and drinks to all the other tribal members. They sat our food in front of us along with the cute coconut cups of kekpa. I took a sip of my kekpa and looked to see that Hank was holding his near the edge of the table waiting for just the right time to dump it. I looked away and a minute. When I looked back at him he kind of showed me that his cup was now empty and he had a big smile on his face and shook his head yes. At that point in time I just said to myself, fuck it and downed my cup of kekpa. Both Hank and my cups were quickly refilled. I again downed mine and looked over to see that Hank had again gotten away with dumping his out. As our cups were being filled the third time I saw the sly look both the Chief and Jameraka gave me. They knew full well that they would soon have me flat on my back filling me with black cocks. And they also knew Hank would be passed out and they could do as they felt with me. Little did they know that Hank was going to get to see what happened to me tonight? The kekpa seemed to work on me just like before all at once my vision got very blurry. I was trying to focus on the people around me and couldn't. I started getting very hot and my nipples were hurting. I looked down to see both of them poking straight ahead and need to be touched so bad. And my vagina was also starting to tingle in a way that was making me so very horny. I looked over to see that Hank had his head down on the table as if he was sleeping. I looked at Jameraka and said, "something's wrong with Hank." Laughing Jameraka replied, "The little white man just can't hold his kekpa." He then told two men to take Hank back to our hut. Two men came over and picked up Hank and hauled him off. As soon as he was out of sight I felt Jameraka hand on my thigh. He ran his fingers to the inside of my thigh and started making little circles right below the now wet crotch of my little leopard print panties. Oh my God I was so horny I didn't do a thing to stop him. For that matter I was hopping his fingers would move on up to my wet crotch. Then I felt another hand on my other thigh. I looked down to see the Chief was now rubbing the inside of my other thigh. I about came on the spot looking down at my white thighs with two big black hands rubbing them. Next Jameraka other hand moved up to my breast and started playing with my super hard nipple. I pushed his hand away and told him to stop it that people are watching us. I second later I felt something very slick being rubbed on my hard nipple by Jameraka. He was rubbing that honey like stuff on it that the Chief had used on me the other night. And again just like the other night my nipple turn hot like it was on fire in need of a mouth to suck on it. "Oh God please don't do this to me in front of all these people," I moaned to Jameraka. Jameraka big white teeth smiled at me as he said," Sexy lady I just love the way all of you white girls tits stand right out on your chest like there asking to be played with." At that time he started rubbing the honey like stuff on my other nipple. Still rubbing my thigh the Chief was now running his thumb up and down the wet crotch of my little leopard panties. Taking his time to roll my hard clit around right through my panties. Oh God I was getting so horny so fast. My nipples needed sucked on and my vagina was getting wetter by the second. Jameraka took a hold of my left boob and was squeezing it and making my hard nipple poke right out. He then said, "sexy lady I still say you have the best nipples I've ever seen." Having said that he bent over and sucked my hard nipple right into his mouth. By this time the kekpa that I had drank had me in the slut stage. I didn't care who was looking at my topless breasts. Or that I had a black man sucking on my nipple and one rubbing my panty covered crotch. All I knew is that I was horny and needed someone to fuck me. Chief Zoomama stopped rubbing my vagina and dipped his finger into the cup of honey stuff that Jameraka had been rubbing on my nipples. Next he pulled the crotch of my little leopard panties to the side and rubbed that honey stuff all over my wet vagina lips and hard clitoris. I just moaned and worked my hips in time with his rubbing fingers as Jameraka was taking turns on my hard nipples. In less that two seconds my vagina turn from a horny vagina into a hot wet in need of fucking pussy. Oh my that honey stuff had my pussy on fire. The Chief dipped in the honey cup again and this time sank two honey-covered fingers deep inside me. I moaned out," Oh God yes that feels so good." I started rocking my hips in time with the finger fucking that I was getting from the Chief. My mind tried to think right but I just couldn't get it to work right. In the back of my mind I knew that just then two men were pleasuring my body at the same time. I've never been with two men at the same time before. One right after the other has happened on this trip so far, but not two at once. What ever was happening to me I didn't care; I was loving the fact that I was having two men working me over. The Chief said some to Jameraka in their native tongue that I didn't under stand. Jameraka replied back to him and smiled at me. "What did he say," I asked? Smiling Jameraka said," the Chief would like to fuck you right here on the table and let all the tribe watch." I started thinking of poor Hank back in the hut waiting for me to perform for him. I said," no, no we can't do it here, lets go to my hut. Please lets go to my hut, I'll let you both have me there." Jameraka got a big grin on his face and asked, "Have you ever sucked a black cock?" I started to reply but just then the Chiefs finger fucking had me at the point of an orgasm. "OH GOD YESSSSSSS" I moaned out as I came on his fingers. Jameraka watched as I came with the Chief then asked me if I would suck his cock as the Chief fucked me back in my hut. Still coming down from my orgasms I moaned, "Sure baby I'll suck ya off. I'll suck you both off as long as you fuck me, God I'm so horny I need to be fucked really bad." The kekpa had me so horny by this time I didn't even care that all the tribe had just seen the Chief make me cum in front of them. Then I think Jameraka told the Chief that I was willing to have sex with both of them at once back in my hut. And that I was also willing to suck them both off. The Chief shook his head yes as he pulled his sticky fingers out of me and stood up. They both helped me up as we made our way to my hut. Once there Jameraka opened the grass door and said, "Shit Hanky boy is in here, lets go to my hut!" I reached out and took a hold of his cock through his pants and said, "No, lets do it here. Hank is out for the night. I need you guys now." Smiling from ear to ear Jameraka said, "I love horny white house wives high on kekpa. They'll fuck anyone and anything, even right in front of their husbands. Lets go, I can't wait to get inside them little panties of yours." Having said that the three of us stepped inside my hut. Hank was lying on his mat on his side kind of on his side facing my mat on the other side of the hut. So he had a good view of what ever was going to happen to me Chief Zoomama was standing behind me with his arms around me cupping both my breasts in his hands. His fingers were rolling my honey slick hard nipples around, driving me wild. I could feel his hard cock running up and down my panty-covered ass, as he was dry humping me from behind. Jameraka dropped down on his knees right in front of me. Looking up at me he smiled and said " poor little Hank is going to miss seeing his sexy little white wife getting filled with two black cocks tonight". He then took my hips in his big black hands and buried his face in my panty covered crotch. I just about came when I felt his hot tongue running up and down my slit through my panties. Jameraka kept licking me through my panties as the Chief was working on my hard nipples. I was just at the point I was about to cum when he stopped and said "I think I'll get you all warmed up for the Chief to fuck, wail I give you your first black cock to suck on, what ya think? I looked down at Hank then back down at Jameraka and moaned, "I don't care, all I know is that I need to be fucked really bad". Looking back up at me Jameraka smiled and said, " oh baby your going to get fucked, you can count on that. Some of the other guys around here would like to sink some black meat into this hot little white pussy of yours." He then reached up and pulled the two little strings that had my panties tied at the hips. Once my little pair of side-tie white leopard panties hit the ground Jameraka long tongue came out of his mouth and he buried it deep in my hot and wet pussy. He was just giving me a second long lick when I started cumming all over his tongue. I grabbed his head and pulled him tight to my pussy as the Chief was still tweaking my nipples from behind, I moaned out, "OH GOD YESSSSSSSS, OH YESSSSS I'M CUMMINGGGGG". As my orgasm was winding down I looked down to see that Hank had somewhat of a smile on his face. It looks like the ass-hole did enjoy seeing me cum with another man. Jameraka then said, "okay, Brandy lay down there on your mat. I'm going to let Chief Zoomama fuck you first as you give me a blowjob". He then told the Chief what was happening. The Chief said something back to him and smiled and shook his head yes. I did as I was told and laid out on my back looking up at the both of them. I looked over Hanks way again to see that the smile on his face was even bigger now. Chief Zoomama dropped his loincloth on the ground and moved between my wide-open legs. He was sporting a big hard-on that looked like a big black pipe from where I was. He then dipped his fingers in the little cup of honey stuff and proceeded to rubbing it all over his hard black meat. He then got down on his knees right between my legs. Smiling He was looking at my waiting pussy as he jacked his slick cock off, covered with that hot honey stuff. Now that his cock was as hard as a rock he wiped the extra honey off his hands and fingers onto my hot little pussy. I moaned out as he was rubbing it all over my wet vagina lips. He then picked up my legs and placed my ankles on each side of his head. He then dropped down over me, holding himself up with his arms. He started rocking his hips toward me. This made his hot cock poke me all around my welcome vagina. After about five pokes his cock hit a bulls eye. The slick head of his cock was poking right into the entrance of my vagina. I moaned up to him and rocked my hips up to get that hard cock inside me. He knew what I needed and at that time he started giving it to me. He gave a nice and easy push that let his hard cock start sinking into me. As the big head popped inside me I looked over at Hank and moaned out, "Oh God Hank, he's fucking me". He was fucking nice and slow, filling me with more and more black cock each time he pushed in. I was going out of my mind it felt so good. Then all at once his cock bottomed out deep inside me. It hurt when he hit bottomed and I moaned, "ohhh not so hard, it hurts". He didn't know what I had just said and just smiles and hit bottom again. Again I pushed up on him and moaned, "that hurts, please don't go so hard". Jameraka at that time was dropping his shorts down near the head of my mat. He told the Chief what I had just said in his language. The Chief smile and replied something to Jameraka. The Chief then did slow down his hard hits. He started the little hard pushes to get deeper inside me. Then it happened again, I felt his cock slip all the way inside of my uterus. I about came on the spot as I moaned up to him, "OH FUCK YOUR COCK FEELS SO GOOD". Looking over at Hank again I moaned, "oh honey he's so deep inside me". Hank didn't reply, he just continued to act like he was passed out as he watched his wife being filled with a big black cock. There was no acting on my part. With the Chiefs big cock inside my uterus that was all I could take. I started fucking him back like a local slut. I looked down between us to see that I had every inch of the Chiefs cock inside me. At that point I was his. I started fucking up to him and moaning out, "oh yessss oh God yessss, fuck meeeeeeee". I had my eyes now closed as I was humping up to get more of the Chiefs hard cock inside me. I then felt something poking on my mouth. I opened my eyes to find Jameraka trying to slip his hard cock into my mouth. Once I seen what was happening I just opened my mouth as wide as I could and sucked that big black cock right in. It was so long I could just get a little more than the head in my mouth. So I wrapped my fingers around the middle of it and started jacking him off as I sucked and licked the head. Never in my life had I dreamed of having sex with two black men at the same time! Now I was doing it right in front of my husband, and I loved it. I pulled Jameraka cock out of my mouth and moaned up to the Chief, "OH FUCKKKKK I'M GOING TO CUMMMM. OH GOD DON'T STOP, FUCK ME, OH GOD YESSSS FUCK ME". I turned to see if Hank was watching me about to cum all over the Chief big cock. Just as I got my head turned Hanks way Jameraka pulled my head back to facing him and slipped his hard cock back in my mouth. Again I started jacking him off in my mouth as I humped up to the Chiefs big cock. In less than a minute it happened again. My orgasm went through my body like wild fire. Again Jameraka black cock popped out of my mouth as I pushed up to the Chief and yelled out, "OH YESSSSSSSS, YESSSSSSS, OH YESSSSSS I'M CUMMINGGGGGGGG". My orgasm must have set off the Chiefs orgasm as well. As I was cumming he pushed deep inside me an moan, ahhhhhhh, as I then felt his long hard cock pulsating deep inside my uterus. He kept pumping more and more hot sperm deep inside me. I didn't think his cock was ever going to stop cumming. I looked over at Hank and moaned, "Ah baby, he's cumming in me". Hank had just gotten his wish. He got to see me cum with another man. And he got to see another man cum inside me. And I was more than willing to give him a lot more of a show. I was still horny as hell and in need of being fucked again and again. Jameraka said something to the Chief in their language. The Chief replied back to him laughing and started slowly pulling his still hard cock out of me. Once the head popped out of me I could feel his hot cum running out of me on it's way down to the mat. Jameraka and the Chief traded spots. That put Jameraka right between my legs holding his big black cock in his hand. He then dropped his cock and picked up my legs and placed my ankles on each side of his head just as the Chief had done. Now back to holding his big black cock in his hand again he looking down at my leaking pussy and said, "wow the Chief sure made a mess out of your cute little white pussy. I think I'll make it a little messier". Having said that he lined the head up to my sloppy slit and pushed inside me. I was so wet and sloppy Jameraka sank all of his cock into me in one slow push. I moaned out, "Oh God yessss" as he sank deep inside me. My hips came up off the mat trying to get even more of his lovely cock inside me. Jameraka was looking down at me as he said, " God your little white pussy feels so good rapped around my cock. To bad Hank isn't awake to see his little wife getting filled with black cock". He then started pumping into me at just the right speed to drive me wild. I looked over at Hank again as I started humping up to Jameraka. I was so wet and sloppy from all of Chiefs Zoomama cum and my juices that the sounds of my wet pussy filled the hut. I knew that Hank was enjoying seeing me getting fucked by these men. I had just started moaning when I felt Jameraka hard cock also sink into my uterus also. Oh God what a feeling this is. Something that Hank had never been able to do to me. Again I say, " the person that said, size doesn't matter, had to have been a man". I moaned out, "oh yes, yes, yessss, oh God yes, fuck me, God don't stop". Then I felt Chiefs Zoomama wet and still hard cock hit my right on the mouth. It was covered with his cum and my pussy juice. I didn't even think about it, I just took the big head right in my mouth and started sucking on it. I would say his cock was just about the same size as Jameraka's. It was also so long I could just get a little more than the head in my mouth. So I did the same thing with him, wrapped my fingers around the middle of it and started jacking him off as I sucked and licked the head. This was the Chiefs first blowjob and I was going to make sure it wasn't one he would soon forget. God the feeling of two cocks, two big black cocks in your body at the same time was way too much for me. I started cumming again. Only thing this time I kept sucking on the cock in my mouth and humping up to the one deep in my pussy. Both men moaned out as my pussy was biting on Jameraka cock and my mouth was sucking really hard on Chiefs Zoomama cock. As my orgasm came winding down Jameraka started picking up speed. He was now hammering me full off black cock. I then started sucking and jacking off Chiefs Zoomama cock in time with the fucking I was getting. I couldn't see if Hank watching this or not, but knew in the back of my mind he was. He was about to see for the first time his wife getting filled with sperm from two men at the same time. And I too couldn't wait for this to happen. This didn't take long at all. Both men started moaning about the same time as they worked their cocks in my body. I too was going out of my mind with two cocks inside me that I was trying to make cum at the same time. Jameraka was the first to start. He pushed deep inside me and moaned, ah yes, here comes the baby juice. I felt his cock start pulsating deep inside me as I was being filled with his hot sperm. He pulled my hips tight to his body as his cumming cock sank even deeper into my uterus. Then it happened, Chiefs Zoomama moaned and I felt his cock jerk in my mouth that was soon followed by a blast of hot sperm. Most times I'm not a swallower, I spit. The Chief was holding my head in place as he filled my mouth with cum. All I could do was start drinking it down. And I must say, my first time at swallowing wasn't at all that bad. For that matter I liked it and started sucking his cock harder to get more of his cum out. As soon as both men drained all their sperm inside me they both fell down on the mat on each side of me. Chiefs Zoomama said something to Jameraka in their language. Jameraka then said, "The Chief said to tell you thank you for the blowjob. He may have you teach his wife how to suck cock." I looked over Hanks way and smiled as I felt a drop of Chiefs Zoomama cum running down my cheek. Chiefs Zoomama and Jameraka soon got up on their feet talking and laughing to each other in their language. Jameraka looked down at me and said, "Stay put right there sexy. Some of the other guys would like to try some white pussy. I'll send them right in." Then laughing they both walked out the door. As soon as the door shut behind them Hank crawled over next to me and placed a big kiss right on my sperm covered mouth. His right hand went right between my legs and he sank two or three fingers inside my sloppy wet pussy. Breaking the kiss Hank said, "Oh my God Bandy, that was so hot. I came in my pants watching you fuck them. God I can't wait to fuck you and eat your pussy myself." He then moved quickly back over to his side of the hut when he heard footsteps coming our way. He went right back to acting like he was passed so he could watch my next show. I second later a big black man stepped through the door and into our hut. He stood there smiling, as he looked down at me, a naked white woman at his feet. At that point in time I felt like the biggest slut in Africa, and didn't care. I smiled back up at him and slowly opened my legs as wide as I could to show him the prize he was about to receive. Smiling from ear to ear this new man quickly dropped his loincloth on the ground and moved between my wide-open legs. Now on his knees I saw that he also had a very nice big black cock in his hand that he was lining up to slip inside me. I was so wet and slick my pussy just swallowed his cock once he started pushing it inside me. I locked my legs around his back and was ready to give him his first white woman ride. Right there and then I turned into the fucker, not the fuckey. I was humping up to this man like I'm sure no other woman ever had. I was going to make sure that his first white pussy was going to be the best fuck he ever had. He bent way over and was taking turns kissing and sucking on my long hard nipples as his meat was pumping in me at just the right speed. The kekpa and this nice cock inside me made me forget all about Hank as I concentrating on having another orgasm. I dug my nails into his back as I worked my hips in time with him. My ass was raised about five inches up off the mat as I worked my vagina muscles on his nice cock. In just a few short seconds I felt my third black cock of the night slip deep into my uterus. As soon has I felt the head sinking in I started cumming again. I pushed up hard to him taking everything he had to offer deep inside my wet pussy. I then grabbed his ass and pulled him tight as I yelled out, "OH GOD YESSSSSS, YESSSSSSS, OH I'M CUMMINGGGGGG." As this orgasm was winding down Hank came back to mind. I looked over at him and smiled. I knew that he had just enjoyed watching me cum all over yet another hard black cock. My new black man was now fucking me at full speed. I felt his cock growing bigger and bigger deep inside me. And then it happened, he pushed deeper inside me a grunted as his cock started unload hot sperm deep inside my welcome uterus. I did my best to milk his cock dry as he filled me up. Looking back over at Hank again I moaned, "mmmmm baby I'm getting more cum pumped in my pussy for ya". Once this man had pumped his last drop of sperm inside me he fell down kind of next to me and went back to sucking on my still very hard nipples. I could feel his big cock that was still deep inside me starting to shrink. All at once the door opened and a young black skinny kid was standing in the doorway looking down at us. He said something to the man inside me in their language. The man replied back to him, and then he pulled out of me. His cock made a loud suction sound as it left my wet vagina. He then stood up and was talking to this kid as he was putting his loincloth back on. At the same time the skinny kid dropped his to the ground exposing to me the next nice long black cock I was about to get. As the one guy walked out the door the skinny kid dropped down on his knees between my still open legs. He was slowly stroking his cock as he was looking at my leaking vagina. I had a steady stream of white-hot sperm running out of me. As he climbed over the top of me lining his cock up to my welcome pussy I gave a fast look over at Hank. Then just as fast I looked up at this kid that was now slipping his hard cock inside me. I moaned out, "Oh God yesssssssssss fuck me", as I pushed up to him. After this kid filled me with his hot cum I lost count of who screwed me next. I remember having a great orgasm with him, and then I must have half way passed out. I recall others fucking me, but that's about it. How many others I had no idea. I woke the next morning with Hank on top of me filling me with his hard cock. Right at that time he moaned, "Oh God I love you" as his cock started squirting more sperm into me. I could feel Hanks cock pulsating as he unloaded inside me. Once he emptied his last drop of cum inside me he rolled off me onto his back next to me. As I started waking up more I could feel the fire in my vagina. Not a good fire, a hurting fire. It felt like I had had a sand paper cock stuck up inside me. I was so sore I didn't think I would ever feel like having sex again. Just then Hank kissed me and said, "mother fucker Brandy, I can't believe all them guys fucked you last night. That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. I don't have to ask if you liked it or not, I've never seen you cum so much in my life!" Kissing him back I replied, "Oh God my pussy is so sore. How many guys fucked me?" "Shit I don't know for sure. I think after the tenth guy Jameraka made them stop before they fucked you to death." I looked at him surprised, "ten guys? Are you kidding me? Oh fuck I'm nothing but a whore in their eyes." Hank kissed me again then smiled and said, "your not a whore. You're my wife and I love you. Plus you had eleven guys last night if you count me. After they got done I fucked your passed out body two times. Your pussy was so hot and wet I couldn't help myself. Then again as soon as I woke up, I had to have you again." I kissed Hank and said, " thank goodness this trip is about over. I don't think I can take much more cock." Then looking at him right in the eyes I asked, "are you sure your okay with what happened? This is not going to hurt us after we get back home is it?" Hugging and kissing me Hank said, " Hurt us, hell no. This was the best vacation we have ever had. We may have to come back again next year. The only bad thing is, we can't tell all of our friends and family all the real fun we had down here." ....... I had to take the next few days off, having no sex at all. I didn't have any more gangbangs or whatever ya call it when you have one guy after another. I did have sex with Chiefs Zoomama and Jameraka a few more times. And the rest of the stay I didn't have any more kekpa to drink Also with Hanks blessing I spent to full nights in Chiefs Zoomama hut getting fucked all night long. Hank really loved having me the next morning as I told him what the Chief had done to me. As much as I hated to leave we had a safe trip back home. Once back home Hank went out and got me a nice big black dildo that he uses on me each time we have sex. We play it out that we are back in Africa and I'm getting fuck by one of the many men. The real thing is a lot better, but what can ya do. Two months after returning home I made a Doctor appointment due to the fact that I had the flu and couldn't get over it. Turns out the flu was morning sickness, I was two months pregnant. Crying and in shock I had to tell Hank that evening that I was pregnant. The bad thing is I don't know whose black baby I have inside me. Hank came up with a good story to tell all of our friends and family. The story is that I got raped wail on our trip and we were trying to keep it to ourselves until the Doctor confirmed that I was pregnant. It just goes to show that sometimes when you play, you pay. I'll now have to go through life with a black child. People will know that I screwed a black man. The only thing they will not know is that I screw a tribe of black men, and loved it. THE END 6/4/2008 Thanks for reading my story. I hope you liked it and I'm sorry it was so long in coming. Any and all replies can be sent to [email protected]

Safari Wife (Part One) (Wail on an African Safari a little white housewife sees things she's never seen before. But likes!) Safari Wife This story that I'm about to tell you happened about 5 years ago. I was 28 years old at the time. My name is Brandy and I'm married to Hank who is the same age. We have been married for 10 years and have two children. Lets see, I'll tell you a little about Hank and myself before we get started. I'm not like a movie star or super model. I'm just your plan Jane white housewife. I have hazel eyes and blonde hair that is cut short. I'm 5'3" tall and my numbers are 34B-22-33. I'm not a pothead or a big drinker, but I do drink from time to time, but not very much. Now Hank is right at six foot tall and keeps himself in great shape. Seeing his nude body still turns me on, even after ten years of marriage. Hank is always telling me how sexy I am, and that I should wear more reviling clothing. I do dress up sexy for him at home, behind closed doors. I have all the sexy little garter belts and baby dolls that I wear for him. All most all the sexy things that I own Hank, has bought for me. I do wear a lot of sexy panties and bra's from Victoria's Secret. One of Hanks rules is that I can't wear granny panties, as he calls them. He loves me to wear thigh-high stockings under dresses or skirts. And I do wear these for him. Oh yes, Hank has this thing about bikini panties. He doesn't like the g-string or thong panties. He tells me that he love to see my ass, or any girl's ass shake and move under bikini panties. He loves the way it rocks and rolls and moves up and down as your walking away, and thongs take away a lot of that. Must be a guy thing! Okay, now on with the story. About 6 years ago Hank started talking about taking a month long African Safari. He's into all this lions, tigers and bears stuff. From day one when we first meet he has talked about doing this one day. And now that he has a lot of time on the job and lots of vacation time saved up, he was ready to really do it. I told him my idea of a vacation was a cruise away from the kids. Not a trip out in the woods or jungle, living in huts and tents. But being the good wife that I am, I gave in and told him to plan out the trip and I'd work on a sitter for the kids. Hank got the entire trip lined up over the Internet. We did get a two-night stay at a hotel before the safari started. Then it was to be driving in 4-wheel drive vehicles until the last 10 miles. The last 10 miles was deep jungle and had to be walked. All I kept thinking about was big bugs, snakes, spiders and all the stuff I hate. And the price of this safari, shit, we could have gone on a cruise around the world for the price of this camping trip. But I bit my lip and went along with Hanks so called dream vacation. I wasn't sure how to pack for this kind of a trip. Hiking boots, raincoats swim wear and what ever Hank said I would need. The bad thing was going to be that we would have no electric, so no curling iron or blow dryer. The trip started out like hell. We left Chicago for London. Changed planes and were off to Dar Es Salaam in Tanzangire, Africa. Then change planes again to fly to Dodoma. Don't get mad if I kill the names of these places. Anyway it took us 25 hours to get there. And once at the hotel in Dodoma I about died. The place was a shit hole. No A/C, no pool just a full size bed in a crappy little room. Crappy or not we both hit the bed and were out for the night. The next day we met with our safari guide whose name was Jameraka. He was a big black man that didn't look like he missed a meal in his life. He spoke good English and told us a lot about how the safari was going to go. He also told us that he could speak the language of any tribes we would run into. I was so glad to hear that none of the tribes were headhunters or eat people. We were only going to travel in the daylight and at times would set up a tent camp at night. And other times we would be at some tribe's village in grass huts. The plan was for us to be at the Dodoma airport the next day with our baggage. We were then going to take a helicopter to some Village to meet up with Jameraka and all his helpers and trucks to start the safari. The last night in our hotel room I took a bath, yes a bath, we didn't have a shower. I was combing my hair and getting ready for bed as Hank took his bath. Thank God the room did have a ceiling fan to move some of the hot and humid air around a little. I slipped into a sexy little pink lace baby doll. I was thinking this might be our last night in a bed and my last chance to wear a sexy outfit for Hank. I knew he would love seeing me dressed like this, lying in the middle of the bed when he came out of the bathroom. Wail taking my bath I had taken the time to shave my vagina mound and legs nice and clean. I have shaved myself clean in the passed and it never failed to drive Hank wild. As I was laying on the bed waiting for Hank I started thinking about this hot guy that I had seen in the London airport yesterday. I started rolling my lace-covered nipple around making it very hard. I next squeezed both my breasts and then started playing with both my now very hard nipples. I closed my eyes and was thinking this guy was kissing my nipples and just then was working his way down my belly. My left hand was playing with my right breast and nipple as my right hand was sliding down my body. My fingers made their way down over my little lace panties. Once they got to the crotch I slowly started rubbing my vagina right through my panties. I felt my panties getting wet as I then slipped my fingers under the waistband of my little panties. My mound felt so smooth as my fingers slowly made their way down to my wet vagina lips. I moaned and rocked my hips up to my fingers as I sank two of them inside myself. I pulled my wet fingers back out and slowly started rubbing my juices all over my hard clitoris. MMMMMMMM I opened my legs wider as I rolled my clit around getting very close to have a powerful orgasm. Squeezing my nipple I moaned out again, mmmmmmmm. "Looks like somebody is ready for some hard cock". I about jumped out of my skin when I looked up to see Hank watching my play with myself. I pulled my hand out of my little panties and said; mmm baby I was just getting warmed up for you. "Don't stop lover, let me see you make yourself cum". I looked at Hank and said, mmmm no way, that's your job, get over here. Hank got in bed next to me and took my hard nipple in his mouth right through my lacey baby doll top. His hand went right between my legs to feel my wet panty crotch. Mmmmmm I moaned as Hanks fingers went to work on my hot and wet vagina. He then pulled the crotch of my little pink panties to the side and sank two fingers deep inside of me. "Ohhh God it feels like somebody just got done fucking you, your so wet". I hit him and said no, nobody just got done fucking me but I hope somebody is going too. Hank then started kissing his way down my belly. Pulling my little panties to the side even more as he moved down. "Well lookey here, you shaved this sweet little pussy clean for me'. He then kissed my mound and next ran his tongue up my vagina slit from bottom to top. Mmmm yes that feels so good I moaned as I pushed my hot vagina up to Hanks probing tongue. Hank started licking and sucking all around my vagina. Taking time to suck and kiss my labia and clitoris. I was going wild and knew it wasn't going to be long before I was having a great orgasm. Hank never fails to drive me wild when he eats me. "Oh baby your pussy tastes so good, I could eat you for a week". Then he started sucking hard on my clit. "Come on baby, cum for me, cum so I can get my hard cock inside you". Well it didn't take much more of Hanks pussy eating to push me over the top. He had my little pink baby doll pulled all the way open as he rolled my super hard nipples around. I had my ass up about 4 or 5 inches off the bed pushing my pussy into Hanks tongue. I kept moaning more and more as my orgasm started through my body. "Yes, yes that's it baby, cum for me, let me hear you yell your cumming". Yelling I did, I yelled out OH YESSSSSSS GOD YESSSSSSS I'M CUMMMMMMMING. I grabbed Hanks head and pulled it tight to my cumming vagina. I was rocking my slit in a way that kept Hanks nose rubbing my clit as I kept cumming and cumming, OH YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS I yelled. I could feel and hear Hanks tongue lapping at my pussy as I came on his tongue. Once my orgasm came to an end I dropped my ass back down on the bed and moaned mmmm God that felt so good. I then looked down between my legs to see that Hanks face was covered with my pussy juices. "WOW, are you hot or what? I think everybody in the hotel now knows that you just came like a firecracker. I've never heard you yell that your cumming that loud before. But I like it, keep yelling like that. It lets me know I did a good job of making you cum. Now lets see if we can get you cumming again?" I'm sure it's not just me, but there is something about being in a hotel bed having sex that bring the slut out in me. It's just not the same as sex at home. Anyway I looked back down to see that Hank was now crawling up between my legs getting over the top of me. His cock was as hard as a rock pointing at his belly button. He took the time to kiss and suck each of my hard nipples as he moved up my body. Once he was up face to face with me we started in with a long hot kiss. I could taste my vagina on his lips as we kissed. This wasn't the first time that I had tasted my own juices, and it did nothing but make me even hornier for Hanks hard cock. With my sexy little pink panties still on Hank just pulled them to the side again and started rubbing his hot and hard cock up and down my wet vagina lips He was making sure to rub it all around my hard clit. Once he had his cock covered with my pussy juice he lined it up to my vagina opening. I was so wet he just sank inside me so easily. "Oh fuck Brandy is your pussy on fire or what? God your so hot and wet, mmmmm, lets see if we can cum together?" Hank started pumping his cock in me nice and slow. He would push in as deep as he could then pull out until it popped all the way out of me. Then back in again as deep as it would go. Hank knows just how I like it. He would pick up speed very slowly, and this drove me out of my mind. I hooked my legs around his back and moaned mmmmm yes as we kissed. "Come on baby, we got no kids to hear us, tell me what you won't." Hank loved for me to beg him to fuck me. And the truth is, again in a hotel room I love getting wild in bed. It just seems so hot and dirty to beg your man to fuck you hard. "Mmmmmm your pussy feels so good, oh man I'm going to pump you full of hot cum. You like your pussy full of cum?" Oh God his hard cock felt so good I was way into this now. OHHHHHHH YESSSSS FUCK MEEEEEEE. FUCK ME HARDDDDDDDDDDD. Oh baby yes, make me cum again. Give me all your cum, yes, yes OH FUCK MEEEEEEE. We were now screwing at full speed. Hank slipped his hand between us and was playing with my hard and wet clit. This was driving me mad and I knew I would be cumming again very soon. Now I was yelling, OH FUCK MEEEEEEE, FUCK MEEEEEE,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,OH GOD I'M GOING TO CUMMMMMMMMMMMM, DON"T STOP, OHHHHH FUCK MEEEEEEEE. I could feel Hanks cock starting to get bigger inside me and knew he was about to cum also. He was now hammering into me like mad. "AHHHHH I'm going to cum in you baby, are you ready?" I just got out, OH GOD YESSSSSSS, when Hank pushed deep inside me and started pumping me full of his hot sperm. "Oh yes I'm cumming." Hanks jerking cock set me off also. I pushed up to him and yelled out, OHHHHHH GOD YES I'M CUMMINGGGGGG TOOOOOOOOOOOO. I was milking all his sperm out with my pussy lips as we both came together. OH GIVE ME YOUR HOT COME BABY, FILL ME UP. This was the last thing I got out before Hank collapsed on top of me. After we got our breath back we kissed and Hank rolled off the top of me. Leaving a trail of sperm across my leg from his shirking cock. I could feel all the cum that he had pumped in me now running out of my vagina down over my butt-hole making it's way to the bed. "God Brandy, you have to be the best fuck in the world. Man I love when you get wild and start yelling like that. Wish we could have sex like that at home." Smiling I got out of bed and said thank you, I'm glad you liked it. I'm also glad that you had a vasectomy, God look at this mess you made in my pussy. Have you been saving that up? That could have been twins. I had sperm running down both my thighs plus dripping on the floor. "Well it looks like we're going to be hitting the tub again, my face is covered with pussy juice." I smiled and said yep your right, "FIRST", as I ran into the bathroom, leaving Hank sitting they're with a sticky face and cock. The next morning Hank fingered me to a nice orgasm before we headed off to the airport. I dressed in shorts and a button up short sleeve top for or first day. I would've liked to worn flip-flops but I had on my hiking boots. Once we landed in this little Village and met up with Jameraka I started having second thoughts about this trip. One thing was the way that Jameraka was eyeing me up and down. It was like I was the first female that he had ever seen in his life. He never looked at my face, just my boobs, crotch and legs. And the second was all the black workers. There were maybe 10 or 15 black workers of all ages. Hank and I were the only whites in the group. Not that I have a thing against black, it just they didn't speak any English and I didn't know what they were saying to each other. I felt like they were talking about Hank and I as they talked. In any case I was stuck and would have to make the best of it. Jameraka help loaded all or stuff into one of the truck. He then told us that we didn't have to do a thing. His workers would load and unload our stuff every day. They would drive, set up out tents, cook all the food, you name it they do it. All that we had to do was take pictures and enjoy the Safari. Once everything was loaded and set Hank and I got into one of the Hummer type 4-wheel drive vehicles with a young black kid driving. It felt like Florida in the middle of the summer, very hot and humid. And wouldn't you know it, not one of the vehicles had air conditioning. Our convoy started out of the Village on this bumpy old dirt road. The Safari had begun, where we were heading I had no idea. We rode down this dusty road all day long, stopping a few times for drinks and restroom breaks. Right restroom breaks. I had to go pee behind a bush and hope all these guys were not watching me. Late in the day we pulled into this clearing next to a river to set up camp. I must say it was a beautiful spot; it looked just like a post card. The guys had tents up, a fire going and food on cooking in no time. Again I had to use a bush to go to the restroom. We had a so, so dinner and were sitting around the fire enjoying the end of the day. It was still light out and I asked Jameraka where I could take a shower? "A shower? The only shower you're going to get is if we get a big rain. And I think we'll be getting some rain at the end of the week." I looked at Hank and then Jameraka and said your fucken kidding me? I have to stay out here in the jungle and stink until it rains? No bathrooms, no showers this safari shit is bullshit. Jameraka spoke up once he seen I was mad. "No, no sexy lady, you can bathe all you like. That is why we stopped here. See all my helpers down there in the river bathing? Just take your soap and towel down there and jump in. But please make sure one of my crew is with you keeping and eye on you. This is the jungle and there are wild animals out here that will eat you." "Oh this is just fucking great," I said as I got up and went to our tent. Hank followed me into the tent. The tent was big, not your little camping tent. You could stand up and walk around in it. We had two cots, a chair and a little table, a lantern hanging from the top. Our bags were in one corner. "How in the hell am I going to bathe on this trip with all these guys watching me," I asked Hank? "Easy, just put on your bikini and I'll go with you, it's no big deal" Hank replied. "No big deal? You asshole, I have to piss and shit in the woods like some back-woods hillbilly. I don't know how I let you talk me into this shit. Close the fucking door flaps so I can change." Hank knew I was pissed and didn't say a thing as I stripped down nude. I dug out my only bikini from my bag. It was not the kind of a bikini a married woman should be wearing around all these men. It was a little white string bikini with little black poke-a-dots. The top didn't cover a lot of my breasts; lucky I'm not all that big on top. It left the sides of them exposed and it didn't have any padding so you could see the little lump my nipples made in it. The bottom did cover my butt with just a little V in the front. Don't ask me why, but somehow I had forgotten any other bathing suits. I tied it in place and then dug out some soap, shampoo and a towel. "Oh boy are the guys ever going to love seeing this little outfit. Damn honey you look hot." "Kiss my ass, I am hot, hot and stinky. Are you coming with me or not?" Hank jumped into his trunks and we then started down to the river. Jameraka was now really eyeing me up as we passed him. I could feel his eyes burning a hole in my ass as we went by. "He then yelled, don't be long kids, the sun is going down, we don't need anyone eaten the first day out." When we got down to the water edge I saw about nine or ten of the workers swimming and playing around in the water. They all stopped and watch me walk into the water. The water was very cool and I was surprised to find the bottom was all sand and not mud. We walked out about waist deep and started soaping ourselves up. I looked up towards the bank and saw three of the workers knee deep in the water. All three of them were totally nude and looking my way. "Oh my God Hank, them guys over there are nude. "Yep the sure are" was his only reply as he started washing his hair. I looked back at them again this time dropping my eyes down to their black cocks. All three of their cocks were hanging down pointing at the water. This was the first time I had seen a black cock. And for my first time I got to see three of them. I couldn't believe how far they hung down. They hung down about half way down their thighs. I've been told all my life that black guys are hung, but I had no idea it was true. I started thinking; God how big is it when it's hard? How do black girls take all that? I wonder how one that long would feel? I couldn't believe that I was making myself honky looking at these guys as I was rubbing soap over my bikini covered breasts and nipples. "Honey your staring, hey Brandy you hear me? Hello, hey Brandy you better stop the tit washing, your turning them guys on." All at once I heard Hank and snapped out of my trance, only to see that the guy on the end was now getting hard. His cock was pointing right at me now. His hand went right around it and he started stroking himself as he looked at me. "Oh my God" I turned my back to him only to see Hank smiling from ear to ear. " I think he likes what he sees, don't you?" "Oh my God that's so sick. Is he still doing what I think he's doing?" Smiling Hank said, "yep, ya done turned the kid on and now he's jacking off." I then started looking around only to find out that every man out there swimming was nude. Hank and I were the only one's with bathing suits on. "Is he still doing it?" I asked?" "Oh yes, I think he's about to blow a load in the water. Turn around and see." "No way, that's so sick, masturbating in front of all these people." "Honey, this is not the good old USA. These people live out here in the jungle. This is normal for them. Oh my there he goes, he's cumming, check it out." "Not on your life" I felt like looking but couldn't bring myself to turn around. After the guy had came in the water he went back to the camp. Hank helped me wash my hair and then we went back to camp also. I was so horny I couldn't wait to get Hank in the tent alone. My mind was going wild thinking about them black cocks. I was now kicking myself in the ass for not turning around to watch this guy masturbate. That was one thing that I've never seen a guy do, and would love to watch it. For that matter not even Hank has done that in front of me. Back at the camp Jameraka told us he would like to talk to us about the next day activities before we bedded down for the night. Once in the tent I changed into a little pair of baby blue lace bikini panties and an over size tee shirt that I always wear for a nightgown. I hung my wet little bikini and towel on this line next to Hanks wet trunks and then sat down across from Jameraka as I combed out my hair. It was now dark out and you couldn't see a thing passed the light from the fire. Jameraka told us how the next day was going to go. It was more or less going to be about the same as today. We were to set up camp at the end of the day again. He also told us that two of his men would be up all night keep guard on the camp so we could sleep with no worries. He then told us that we better get some sleep that the next day was going to be a long hot one. So a short time later we said our good nights and were off to our tent. Once in our tent Hank striped to his jockeys and me down to my little blue lace bikini panties. "Nice little show you put on for Jameraka out there." "What are you talking about, what show?" "Sitting there combing your hair with your legs spread wide open showing off them sexy little panties, that's what I'm talking about." "I wasn't, was I? He couldn't see anything, it was to dark." "Right, I was sitting right next to him and I could just about make out that cute little pussy of yours, right through them lace panties." "Your kidding, you could see that much?" Hank then took me in his arms and said, "yep you sure could. And you wonder why he keeps staring at you. Shit girl if you kept showing me that pussy of yours like that, I would be staring too. I can't blame the guy for checking out my hot little wife." Hank then started kissing me as his hands went down to my panties covered ass cheeks and started feeling them up. I moaned into his mouth as we moved over to one of the cots. In seconds we were laid out side by side on the cot. Hank was playing with my breasts as we continued kissing. In a minute or so I felt Hanks hand slipping down inside the front of my little panties. I moaned in his mouth again as his fingers started fondling my wet pussy and slowly slipped inside it. "Hmmmmmm somebody is really wet tonight. Did you like showing off your panties to Jameraka?" "No, I really didn't know that I was showing him anything." "Well something has this little pussy of yours on fire. Was it seeing all them black cock?" By this time my vagina was soaking wet and needed a hard cock. I was rocking my hips up to Hanks hand as he kept rolling my hot little clit around. "Mmmmmm I've never seen so many cocks in my life, and I didn't know they could get so long, did you?" Laughing Hank replied "a lot of these Africans hang rocks and stuff with strings onto body parts to change their look. No I've never seen a guy with a cock that hung down to his knees before. So that's what has you all wet" as he gave my hard little clit a squeeze. "Mmmmmm I may have to tie a string around your cock and see if that works." Hanks finger fucking had me just about at the point of orgasm as he said, "so my little wife would like to try one of them long black cocks, is that what your saying?" "I didn't say that! Oh God that feels good, mmmmm right there, don't stop." Hank was one hundred percent right, seeing all them cocks today had me so horny I couldn't stand it. All that I kept thinking about was how a cock that long would feel fucking me. "You don't have to say anything, your pussy is telling it all. Your pussy is saying stick a long hard black cock in me!" Hearing his dirty words set me right off, "oh yessss, yessss, I'm cumming," I moaned out as I pushed up to his fingers. "That's a girl, cum for me. Close your eyes and think that one of them long black cock is inside you making you cum right now." I did as Hank said and moaned out, "mmmmm, Godddd, ohhhhhhh yessss, that long cock feels so goodddddddd." My hips were now jerking up and down to Hanks hand and fingers as my orgasm kept going through my body. `Ohhhhhhh yessss I'm cumminggggggggg." Hank was taking turns sucking hard on each of my hard nipples as my orgasm started winding down. He then pulled his hand out of my little blue lace panties and pushed me over on my back as he climbed between my legs over the top of me. Pulling my wet crotch to the side he started rubbing his hard cock head up and down my wet slit. Once it was all wet with my juices Hank said, "sorry baby, all your going to get tonight is this little white boy cock," as he started sinking inside my super wet pussy. I hooked my legs around him and moaned "mmmmm yes, your cock feels just fine love." But still implanted in my mind was them long black cocks I had seen. "Oh God your pussy feel so good", Hank moaned in my ear as he started pumping his hard cock in and out of me. I was still thinking of one of them long black cock as I hooked my legs around Hanks back and moaned, mmmmm God fuck me with that long cock. Hank then started pumping into me at full speed. I just couldn't get my mind off them long black cocks. So in a very short time I was moaning out that I was cumming. I hoped the other men in the camp didn't hear my orgasm with my Husband. What a great first night, I fell asleep that night, still thinking of black cock. As time went on every day was about the same. We would drive all day. Stopping at times to check out wild animals along the way. Set up camp at night near a lake or river. And we would bathe with the help, the nude help that is. Then a few days later one of the strings on my bikini bottom broke and left me in a real fix. Being that I only had the one bikini and the closest store was hundred of miles away, Hank talked me into bathing in my bra and panties. At first I was a little reluctant to do this. How many wives do you know that parade around in sexy little underwear in front of 15 or so strange men and boys? And as I said at the start of this story, I don't have any plain Jane panties and bras. All of mine are kind of sexy, lacey and sheer. Anyway, after a few days of showing off my sexy underwear to all the guys I started felling a little more at ease about it. As time went on and what seemed like a month we made it to this little village deep in the jungle. The village had lots of little grass huts, fires and cooking going on. The tribal people were all working at making stuff and doing what them people do. It was like we walked into a Tarzan movie. Oh yes, there were females there, I wasn't the only female in the group anymore. I was the only white one, but not the only one any more. They were all topless and Hank was enjoying this little show he was getting. They all looked at Hank and I and were saying things to each other that we couldn't understand. Jameraka took us over and introduced us to the tribes Chief. His name was Chief Zoomama, and like the others, he didn't speak a bit of English. He shook our hands as he talked to Jameraka. The Chief then pointed at one of the grass huts. Jameraka then told us that the Chief had given us that hut over there to stay in. It was a long ways from a Holiday Inn but both Hank and I shook the Chiefs hand again and thanked him. Jameraka then walked us over to show us the inside. I'm thinking fuck this place. Homeless people at home live better than this. But I kept my mouth shut as we looked in the door. Jameraka then told his workers to put our stuff in the hut. So once we got all moved in it wasn't all that bad. Well it was better than the tent anyway. We could have a little fire inside but it wasn't vented very well. You had to be careful; if you got the fire to big you'd smoke yourself out or burn the place down. Jameraka pointed out were the river was to bathe. And said it was safe here to bathe at about anytime. He also told us that the tribe was going to put on a feast and dance for us just before dark. After all our things were put into our hut Hank and I went it to organize and get ready to go down to the river. I put on a pair of black lace bikini panties and white sheer bra. Hank just wore his boxers. We grabbed our towels and soap and headed off. Once at the river I was in shock. It was beautiful. It was a big pool at the bottom of a big waterfall. It was a God made shower that was great. The water was just right, not a bit to cold. We soaped up and got in under the falls to rinse off. This was the best thing of the trip so far. Well next best thing, seeing all the cocks I've seen was the first best thing. After our beautiful shower we were making our way back to the village when Hank said, man the tribal guys are going to love that bra you're wearing tonight! Looking down at my breast I could see what he was talking about. My sheer bra had turned transparent once it was wet. It didn't hide a thing, you could see all of my nipples right through it and even the mold I have on the bottom of my right breast. I smiled and replied, you think they'll like this look? Fuck yes; I know they will, Hank replied back. Once back in the village I seen Jameraka was the first to notices my now very hard nipples standing out. And I was getting turned on knowing he was checking them out. Then I saw that the Chief and a lot of the other men and boys were eyeing up my bouncing breast with hard nipples in my little see-through bra as we walked to our hut. Once inside the hut I raped Hank on the spot. This showing off in sexy underwear was getting to me. I was turning into something that I never knew I could be. I was starting to like teasing all these men and boys. And the funny thing was the more I teased the more it turn Hank on. I never knew that my husband enjoyed other men checking me out. The bed in our little hut was nothing more than a bamboo mat on top of some grass and leaves. I was really surprised that it wasn't real hard. It really had a lot of give to it. Noting like my bed at home mind you! But it was a little better than the cots we've been sleeping on. I pushed Hank down on the mat flat on his back, still dressed in his wet boxers. Looking down at him I said, this showing off has me horny as hell, you better get them wet boxers off. As Hank was removing his wet boxers I started taking off my wet and sexy little white sheer bra. Hank moaned, mmmmm your hard nipples are telling it all. It your pussy wet? Dropping my little wet bra on the ground I then hooking my fingers in the waist band of my little wet black lace panties, I moaned mmmmm yes I'm very wet, as I pushed them down and let them fall to my feet. I stepped out of my panties and moved over next to the mat and took Hanks semi hard cock in my hand and started stroking it up and down. Mmmmmm get this thing hard baby, I need it inside me right now. Hank didn't let me down. His cock was as hard as a rock in no time. I leaded over and took it deep in my mouth. Hank moaned out, oh God that feels so good. I was sucking on the head of Hanks now super hard cock as I pumped it up and down with my thumb and index finger around it. Hanks hips started moving in time with my stroking and I knew I couldn't keep this up much longer or he would be pumping his hot sperm in my mouth. And I needed his hot sperm inside my pussy to put the fire out. To Hanks disappointment I stopped sucking on his hard cock and threw my leg over him as I saddled his waist. I reached between my legs and took Hanks hard and now wet cock in my hand and lined it up to my wet vagina. Once I had it lined up to my hot and wet pussy hole I slowly dropped down on it. Once it was all the way inside me I moaned, OH GOD YESSSSSSS. Hank took a hold of both my breasts and started rolling my hard nipples around as I began to pump up and down on his hard cock. GOD his cock felt so good slipping in and out of me. Hank moaned, motherfucker is your pussy ever hot. Tell me you didn't like showing off your tits to all them guys? He then released one of my breasts and moved his hand between my legs. I just about came on the spot as Hanks fingers started playing with my hard little clit. I moaned, oh yes it did. It made me so horny them guys looking at me. Hank added fuel to my fire as he said, you know all them guys are going to be jacking off them long black cocks tonight as their thinking these cute tits of yours. Oh God, my mind went right to thinking about one of them long black cocks slipping deep inside me. I closed my eyes and started thinking I was riding one right then. Hank then said, how about you go topless like the rest of the girls around here? You'll drive these guys nuts seeing your nice tits bouncing around. I know you showing your tits off will turn me on. And look at you now; you fucking loved them seeing your hard nipples. We'll never see any of these people again once we leave here. What do ya say, feel like giving all these guys a thrill tomorrow? I was now at the point of total orgasm. Thinking about one of them long black cocks fucking me. Thinking about going around topless for all to see. I was now pumping up and down on Hanks hard cock at full speed. Him playing with my clit and all his talk pushed me over the top. I tried not to be to loud as I moaned out, OH YESSSSS, GOD YESSSSS I WOULD LOVE SHOWING THEM MY TITSSSSSS. OH GOD I'M CUMMMMMMMMMMING. I was shaking all over as my orgasm went through my body. Hank then grabbed my hips and pulled me down tight on his cock as he moaned mmmmm God here it comes. His cock started jerking inside me as he filled me with his hot cum. I rocked up and down on him as I milked all of this cum out. I bent over and said thank you lover, I need that, and then gave him a long hot kiss. I sat back up with Hanks now deflating cock still inside me. I could feel all the sperm that he pumped inside me starting to run out between his cock and my pussy lips. I got the shock of my life when I looked at the door to see that it was open and Jameraka was standing in the doorway looking at me nude, sitting on my husbands cock. Like I said I was in shock and I didn't scream, try to cover up or anything, I just sat there looking back at him. Jameraka then closed the door and left. I didn't even say a think to Hank who didn't see what just happened. It made me feel all funny inside. I didn't know how long he had been watching us. I was sure that this man had just watched me have an orgasm as Hank and I had sex. I wasn't sure if I should tell Hank what had just happened or not. I do know that I felt all sexy knowing that Jameraka had just seen me totally nude, and having sex. The Safari goes on in part two. Coming soon. Any replies to my story, feel free to tell me. And please have the balls to give me an email to reply back to you. Good or bad, I try to reply to all. [email protected] 5-2007

Safari Wife (Part Three) NOTE: Before reading this story I would suggest that you read parts one and two first. That will bring you right up to date as to what's happening with Brandy and Hank. (Wail on Safari a little white housewife gets to see the real African Men!) Safari Wife In part two of this story, Brandy wail under the influence of the fruit drink kekpa had sex with Chief Zoomama three times and their safari guide, Jameraka four times. All of this happened in one night as her husband Hank laid passed out in their grass hut. For that matter the forth time with Jameraka was in her hut, right next to her passed out husband Hank. Jameraka had just pulled out of Brandy and stood up at the end of her mat pulling his pants back up. He smiled down at her and said, "What a picture this would make wish I had a camera. We got a sweet little white housewife flat on her back legs spread wide open with her skirt and top around her waist. A river of black mans cum running out of her little white pussy as her husband is sleeping next to her and knows nothing about it." Smiling Jameraka added, "It doesn't get any better than this." Jameraka started for the door then stopped. Looking back down at Brandy and said, "Sexy lady we better keep this between you and I. I don't think it would be a good idea to tell your husband that your safari guide was guiding his hard cock in you all night. If you have to tell him something I think you should tell him that you fucked the Chief tonight and leave it at that. He may not understand how his sweet little wife could let two guys fuck her all night long. It's up to you, but I'm sure your going to tell him something in the morning. Oh yes, one more thing sexy lady. This safari is not over yet so I'm sure you're going to be getting a lot more black cock before you get back to you're good old USA, goodnight." Once he was gone it hit Brandy like a ton of bricks. What the hell had she done? Why did she do it, and with both of them? What has this Safari done to her? She had turned into a whore in one night. She ran her fingers down to her still horny but sore little pussy. She was so wet and slick with both of their cum still leaking out of her. She looked over and Hank and moaned, "I'm sorry baby I don't know what made me do this." She then started crying and must have passed out as she was rubbing her slick vagina lips. Now, on with the story, picking up right where it left off. I started dreaming that Jameraka was screwing me again. I was moaning up to him, Oh God Jameraka, your cock feels so good. Mmmmmm yes fuck me, oh yessssssss fuck me hard. Jameraka was on top of me driving his hard cock deep inside my sore little pussy. I could feel my orgasm starting deep inside my body as I started pumping up to him in time with his deep strokes. He had his hand between our bodies rubbing my hard little clit, and this was driving me wild also. All at once I yelled out, OH GOD JAMERAKA, I'M CUMMING, YESSSS, YESSSSSS OH GOD YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. My body shook all over as my orgasm went through me. I was pushing up to Jameraka trying to get every inch of his hard black cock deep inside me as I came all over it. Jameraka put his hand over my mouth to quite down my yelling as his mouth locked on one of my hard nipples. Just when I didn't think I could take any more Jameraka moaned ahhhhhhh as he pushed deep inside me and started pumping his hot sperm deep inside me. His jerking cock set me off again as I started cumming a second time. Then in my dream state Jameraka said, Fuck Brandy is your pussy ever wet. I've never felt you this wet before. What was going on here I started thinking? Jameraka voice sounded just like Hank! I opened my eyes to see that Hank was on top of me and he was the one that had just filled me with hot cum. It wasn't a dream, or was it? What ever it was, I was happy to see that it was my husband that had just screwed me. Hank took turns nursing both my hard nipples as his cock drained inside me. He then moved up and kissed me full on the mouth. After a long hot kiss, with a big smile on his face Hank asked me, what were you dreaming about young lady? Nothing, I lied. Bullshit Hank replied, you were yelling for Jameraka to keep fucking you. Tell the truth, were you dreaming that Jameraka was fucking you? I was so embarrassed as I looked at him and said; well maybe I was, I don't know, I was asleep. You were weren't you? You were dreaming about getting some long black cock weren't you? I was busted, so I just had to fess up. Yes I was, I'm sorry I didn't know who or what. I'm sorry I shouldn't have. Hank stopped me and said, don't be sorry, I think it's so hot that you're thinking about getting fucked by a black guy. At this time Hank rolled off the top of me and was laying up on his elbow looking at me. I then said, you asshole you passed out on me again last night, I was trying to change the subject. I know, I'm sorry. That kekpa shit kicked my ass again. I don't remember a thing after two or three drinks of it. Smiling at me he then said, so did you have to take care of things yourself again last night? Or did you get one of these black guys around here to take care of you? I looked at him and replied, you're an asshole, with tears in my eyes. Hank got this funny look on his face that I knew that he knew something had happen last night. What are you not telling me, Hank asked? I then broke down and started crying. Hank took me in his arm and asked again, what happen last night? Tell me what happen? Did something happen? I then started thinking what Jameraka had said to me last night that I shouldn't tell Hank that the two of them screwed me. That if I tell him anything I should just tell him about Chief Zoomama. That Hank may not understand how his sweet little wife could let two guys fuck her all night long. Thinking that Jameraka was right and the truth was not a good thing here I said, yes something happened Hank. I'm so sorry; I don't know how it happened? Now looking me right in the eyes Hank asked, Brandy, what happened? Still crying I said, I had sex with Chief Zoomama. God I'm so sorry that I did this to you. I don't know what happened to me. I don't know why I did it. Hank kissed me and said baby I'm sorry I put the seed in your head. I just didn't think it would really happen. Did he wear a condom? Condom, God that word hit me like a baseball bat. Still crying I said no, God no, he didn't. What if I get aids, this country is full of aids? Hank then asked, did he cum inside you? Still crying I replied, yes he did. Oh God Hank I'm so sorry I let this happen. Hank replied, oh fuck; I hope he didn't knock ya up! I think it's my safe time of the month; I'm not fertile right now, thank God. I just hope I don't get aids. Or have aids now. Oh God I may have given you aids. I then started crying again. Hank took me in his arm and gave me a long hard kiss along with a wonderful hug He then broke the kiss and said it's okay baby. It's not the end of the world. So you had sex with the Chief. As long as you're not fertile things should be okay. I think most of the aids problem down here is in the cities, not out here in the jungle. I looked at him feeling a little better about that news and said, are you sure about that? Sure I'm sure hank replied as he gave me another long kiss and told me that he loved me. I was so happy to hear that he still loved me even after I had had sex with Chief Zoomama. Hanks kissing kept going as his hand moved up to my right breast. He started rolling my hardening nipple around as he kept on kissing me. Hank broke the kiss again and was looking down at me when he asked; did the Chief make you cum? I didn't know what to say. I didn't need to hurt Hank anymore than I have already. But the look of joy in his eyes told me that maybe the truth would be in store here. Looking up at him I softly replied, yes he did. Hank quickly moved his hand from my breast to my vagina. He slowly sank two fingers inside my wet hole. He then said, that's why you were so wet this morning. You still had the Chiefs cum inside you. God your still super wet with both of our cum inside you. His fingers were now working in and out of my wet pussy. Hanks finger fucking was feeling very good. And I felt better now that I knew he was more or less happy that I let the Chief screw me. I started moaning and working my wet pussy up to Hanks probing fingers. Then Hank started the questions. Did he fuck you more than once? Did you cum more than once? Were did he fuck you at? Did you give him a blowjob? By this time Hanks cock was back hard as a rock. He climbed back on top of me and easily sank his hard cock back inside me. I was just as horny as him by this time as I moaned mmmmm and pushed up to his hard cock, taking it as deep inside me as it would go. Putting my arms around his back I moaned ohhhhhhh God I think he did it to me three times. Hank moaned, ohhhhhhh fuck your kidding me. He fucked you three times last night? Mmmmmm yes he did I moaned in his ear. Oh God your so wet with his cum Hank moaned back in my ear. How many times did he make you cum? Humping up to him I moaned oh God I don't know, maybe six or seven times. Hank moaned out, ohhhhhhh man. He came in you three times and you came seven times. Oh God I can't believe my sexy wife came on a black cock seven times. Oh fuck I'm cummmmming. Hank then pushed deep inside me and started squirting more cum inside me. I did my best to milk his hard cock dry with my super wet vagina lips. Hank then rolled off me as he was panting for air. Then the questions continued. Were did you guys do it at? I told him how the Chief asked me to go see his hut. And that I didn't know why but once I got there I got so horny that when he put the moves on me, I just let it happen. He then said, well if you came seven times with him, I don't have to ask if you liked it. Was his cock really long? Was it fat? How did it feel? I held my hands about a foot apart and said it was about this long. I then made the okay sign with my thumb and index finger and said it was maybe this big around. Smiling Hank said, so you really liked that long black cock? Tell me how it felt inside you. I replied, God what have I turned into? Yes I really liked it. Not that I don't like yours. This one was not the same. It went in so deep; I swear it went all the way inside my uterus. And the truth is, it felt so good I couldn't stop cumming. Hank moaned, shit I'm sorry I missed all this. You think it could happen again? And let me see it happening this time? I hit his arm and said, no, no way it's going to happen again. Hank smiled and said, we'll see about that. I then said, how am I going to face the Chief (and Jameraka I'm thinking) today? I acted like a whore with him last night. Hank got that shit eating grin on his face and said, the Chief is just like any other guy. He thinks he got some pussy off my wife and I don't know about it. He'll not let on like anything at all happened last night. All he'll be thinking about is getting his black cock back inside you. Well that's not going to happen if I can help it, I replied. Hank smiled and then said, well Brandy, I hope it happens again. And I hope I get to see it happen this time. I hit him again and said, shit Hank you make it sound like you like having a slut for a wife? No normal husband would enjoy seeing his wife being taken by another man. Hank replied back, I'm not normal and I would love to see that. When we're away from home I love you playing the slut role. No one by us will ever know a thing about it. In shock I said, playing a slut and being a slut are two deferent things. The Chief fucking me made me a slut last night. Are you telling me that you would really enjoy seeing me get laid by another man? Hank took me in his arms and gave me a deep kiss. Then he said, yes I would and the best thing about it is the fact that you're my little slut! And you'll always be my little slut. Plus the fact that you enjoyed it drives me wild! As sick as it sounds fucking you right after another man had cum in you was the best feeling I ever felt. I would love more of that. Just then came a knock on our grass door. Jameraka yelled, you kids better get up and get some food; they are about to put all the food away. We will be leaving on today's hike in an hour or so. I looked at Hank and said, tell them I'm sick or something. I'm not going to leave this hut today. I can't face the Chief or any of them people out there. I'm sure the Chief has told everybody in the village about the prize he got last night. Hank kissed me and asked if I was sure about staying there all day, and would I be all right? Yes I'm sure I replied. I didn't get much sleep last night and I'm sore between my legs. I don't feel much like walking. Maybe I'll feel better about facing these village people later on tonight. Hanks got dressed, gave me a hug and kiss and said he loved me before setting off on today's safari hike with Jameraka and his helpers. ************************** Hank and the group were gone well over two hours when I started getting real antsy sitting in the hut. Not only was it hot and humid it there. I smelt really bad from all the sex last night. Plus I had three men's dried sperm on my upper thighs that needed washed off. I got dressed in a little black lace bra and matching black lace bikini panties. With my towel, soap and shampoo in hand I walked out of the hut and headed right to the waterfall. I felt like some of the villagers were looking at me as if I was the village whore as I passed them on the way down to the river. They said things to each other that I didn't understand, but I was sure it was me they were talking about. The warm water from the falls felt so good as I got in it then stepped out to soap myself up. I spent a lot of time with my hand down inside my panties getting my sore little vagina nice and clean. I looked up to see two of the younger tribal kids watching me clean myself. I say kids, but they were maybe 18 or 19 years old. Once I had my vagina nice and clean I went to work on my breasts. It's not the easiest thing to wash your breasts inside your bra. So I turned my back to the kids and pulled my bra up to give my breasts a good cleaning. Still with my back to them I stepped back under the waterfall to rinse off. Once I was all rinse off and my bra back in place I stepped out of the waterfall and was shocked to see the two black kids stroking their hard cocks as they watched me. I slipped back under the falls just far enough that I could still see them playing with their cocks. Oh my God I got so horny standing there watching these two young men. They were doing what I have always dreamed of seeing a man do, jack himself off. I couldn't believe how fast they were pumping on their cocks. Both their fists were just a blurr as they were pumping away on their cocks. My right hand had a mind of it's own as it moved down my body to my wet panty covered pussy. I started rubbing my clit right through my panties as I watched them near their orgasms. The one kid hips started pumping in time with his hand. All at once he looked up at the sky and moaned. Then a big wad of white sperm came flying out of the little black pee hole on the end of his hard cock. About four big wads came squirting out and landed in the water. Just then the other kid moaned and his cock was squirting out sperm also. My life long dream of seeing a man make himself cum had just been filled. I was just about to cum myself as I watched them now drop down in the water and start swimming around. Still rolling my sore little clit around through my lace panties I closed my eyes and could still see them young men jacking off. I was just about at the point of giving myself a great orgasm, under the cover of the waterfall. My orgasm had just starting through my body when someone on the riverbank started yelling something I didn't understand. Shit I'm thinking, couldn't you have waited just one more minute and I would have been done. I looked to see what he was yelling about, but didn't see a thing. The two young men were now running through the water towards the bank. He was waving for me to come in also and pointing at something on the other side of the river. I looked over to see this big black cat that was getting a drink out of the river. It looked as big as a car. I screamed and ran for the bank, leaving my soap and shampoo sitting on a rock near the falls. Don't ask me what kind of cat it was. All I know is that it was big, real big. The man that had given us the warning helped me up onto the bank and was talking to me in his tribal language, but I didn't understand a thing that he said. All I could say back to him was, thank you. I picked up my towel and started drying myself off as I watched the big cat get his drink then walk back into the jungle on the other side of the river. One of the young men that I had observed masturbating ran back out to the falls and retrieved my soap and shampoo. He handed it to me with a big smile on his face. I could see his eyes drop to my wet breasts clad in my little black lace bra. They then dropped on down to my little lace panties. I thanked him and gave him a big smile. He said something then ran off to his friends. I made my way back to my hut to find it even more hot and humid inside than before. I removed my wet bra and panties and finished drying off. I knew I couldn't stay and hide in this hut all day; I would die from the heat. So I then started looking through my things for something to wear. I found a cute little pair of red silk bikini panties that had little white poke-a dots on them. I stepped into them and pulled them up and into place. Just then I started thinking about them two kids in the river jacking off. I ran my fingers down over my soft panties to my crotch. I ever so softly started rubbing my vagina lips right through my panties as my left hand moved up and started squeezing and playing with my hard right nipple. I closed my eyes and started thinking how good one or both them young hard black cocks would feel inside me. I was just getting ready to lie down on the mat and get myself off, when some people talking outside my hut distracted me. Having no locks on the grass door, and I had know idea if they would open the door to find me standing there playing with myself or not. So I just stopped and went back to looking for something to wear. I was already sweating from the heat so I just grabbed one of Hanks oversize tee shirts and slipped it over my head. It came down about mid-thigh on me so it was okay to wear out in front of the tribal people. It looked more like a dress on me than a tee shirt. I didn't think about the fact that everyone could see my hard nipples poking through the soft cotton material. Or that they could see my braless boobs bouncing all around under the shirt. By this time I was getting very thirsty and hungry. So when I exited the hut and walked over to were this lady looked as if she was cooking something. I knew just like all the others that she didn't speak a drop of English. I made a sign like I was drinking something and also rubbed my tummy and pointed at my mouth. She smiled and shook her head yes. She then dipped in her pot and gave me a bowl of what looked like some kind of stew. She also handed me a coconut cup of what I think was water. I thanked her and walked over and sat on a tree stump to eat. A lot of the village men stopped what they were doing to watch me as I made my way to the stump. I just smiled at them and started eating my food. After I had finished eating I returned my coconut bowl to the lady and made a sign to refill the cup with more water. (Oh yes, it was water not that kekpa drink). She refilled it for me and I thanked her again. With the cup in hand I went walking around the village, not sure what I was going to do the rest of the day. Once I was back by our hut I desisted I would get my sleeping bag out and go find a nice sunny spot to work on my tan and get a little needed sleep. There was a clear spot about 100 feet or so right outside of the village. Know one was around so it looked like a nice place to be alone for a while. I spread out my bag and sat down. Then I'm thinking, why the hell didn't I put a bra on when I was in the hut? How the hell can I get any sun with a tee shirt on? Then I said to myself, oh hell with it, it feels good just chilling right here. I put on my dark sunglasses and laid out flat on my back. I rolled the tee shirt up until it was right below my breasts. I'm not sure how long I laid there until I was out like a light. Then I started dreaming about them two kids jacking off in front of me. In my dream they were taking turns fucking me with their long black cocks. At one point the one kid was fucking me hard and fast as the other watched us. He was making me cum at this time and I started moaning, ahhhhhhh yes fuck me. Ahhhhh yes I'm cumminggggggggg. As I was cumming I opened my eyes to find that I had my tee shirt up around my neck with both breasts fully exposed and two fingers inside my little panties rubbing my hard clit. I sat up and looked around to see if anyone had just seen me getting myself off. I was happy to see that no one was around to see what had just happened. I fell back down on my back thinking. What the hell is going on with me? All I think and dream about is black cocks. This safari has really turned me into a slut. I pulled my shirt back down and to just below my breasts and fell back asleep again in the warm sunshine. Once I was back sound asleep I'll be dammed if I didn't start dreaming about black cock again. This time I didn't know who was screwing me. All I knew is that it felt really good as I started fucking them back. Oh God it felt so good. Whoever was fucking me had me about ready to cum again. I hooked my legs around his back and started moaning, yes, yes, ohhhhhhh yes fuck me, as I humped my pussy up to him. Then my orgasm started through my body. I was yelling now, OH GOD YESSSSSS, DON'T STOP, YES, YESSSS OH YESSSSSSS I'M CUMMINGGGGGG. My head was rolling from side to side as I pushed up to take all that hard cock that I could get deep inside my cumming pussy. Oh God it felt so good cumming with him. Then I started waking up as I was still pumping my hips up to this great cock. I mind wasn't fully clear as to what was going on. I knew that I had just cum, but who did I cum with? I opened my eyes to see that I was face to face with Chief Zoomama. As my head cleared and I became awake, I saw that I was not dreaming at all. In fact Chief Zoomama was fucking me on my sleeping bag right here in the clearing. He had pushed my tee shirt up around my neck and pulled my sexy little red silk poke-a-dotted panties to the side. His cock was so deep inside me I was just about to cum again before I realized what was happening to me. I looked around to see that several of the villagers were watching the Chief and I. The fact was that the Chief right then was raping me in front of all the tribe. I started to fight him but couldn't do a thing to stop him. He was three times as big as me. He kept driving his long hard black cock deep inside me. And again it felt like he was all the way inside my uterus. My mind told me that I had to stop this. But my body wouldn't listen to my mind. I was pumping my hips up to his hard cock as I moaned, stop, stop, please stop. I heard someone beating on something beside me, but wasn't sure what they were doing. I was to busy pushing on the Chiefs chest and kicking, trying to get him to stop fucking me. I knew that I was about to fall into his trap and start loving the fucking I was getting, if I didn't get it stopped right then. I soon found out what the beating was next to me. Two of the village men took both my arms and tied my wrist to these stakes they had driven in the ground on both sides of me. I was now fighting mad as I tried with no luck to free my arms. I yelled, you mother fuckers let me go. Get the fuck off me. Now that I couldn't fight back as much the Chief now took full advantage of his freedom to screw me. He took my hips in his hands and was pulling me up hard onto his hard cock. As bad as I hated it my body started to betray me. Oh my God his cock was going so fast and deep inside me. My head was rolling from side to side as I still was moaning, no, no, please stop. The next thing I knew my body did a 360 on me. I stopped moaning no and started moaning yes. Oh my God what hell am I doing, as I started humping up to him and moaned out, oh yes, yes oh God fuck me. I had totally forgotten about being married, or being tied down or even that I could be totally fertile right now. All I cared about was the fact that the big black cock inside me was about to make me cum. I now had my feet flat on the ground as I pumped my pussy up to him. The Chief got a big smile on his face once he saw that he had broken my will. He now had a white mans wife about to cum all over his big hard cock. And it was true; I had given up all fight and was now working on having an orgasm. I didn't care about anything at all other than the fact that I was going to be cumming with Chief Zoomama very soon. Faster and faster Chief Zoomama fucked me. And then it happen, he pushed as deep into as he could and moaned something I didn't understand. I felt his cock start jerking deep inside me and knew he was filling me with his hot black seed. His cock felt like a vibrator deep inside me as he filled me with his cum. His cumming cock set me off also. As I pulled on the ropes holding me down I yelled out, OH GOD YESSSSS, OH YESSSSSS I'M CUMMINGGGGGGG. I kept working my hips up and down as my pussy milked all his cum out. I had never in my life come with my husband like I just had with this man. I was like in a state of shock as I lay there coming down from my orgasm. The Chief smiled down at me as he slowly started pulling his long cock out of me. It made a wet suction sound as it popped out and that was followed by a river of sperm running out of me. He stood up next to me and I could see his now limp cock was all shiny as it was covered with both our juices. He said something to one of the young men that I had seen masturbating earlier. The young man shook his head yes and was smiling from ear to ear as him and the Chief talked. He then looked down at me as he dropped his loincloth on the ground. Very quickly he was on his knees between my still spread legs stroking his big black cock. It took me a few seconds to comprehend that I was about to get fucked again. And there was nothing I could do about it. This young 18-year-old boy was about to have his first 28-year-old married white woman. As he moved over the top of me he was still holding his hard cock in his hand. He lined it up to my wet little slit. My pussy lips were covered with the Chiefs sperm so the head of his cock slipped right inside me ever so easy. I was pulling on the ropes trying to free myself, as I kept saying no, no stop you can't do this. He didn't under stand a thing I was saying nor did he care. All he cared about was getting his first pieces of white pussy. Looking back now I think that it was his first pussy at all. Looking down at me he slowly filled me up with his long black cock. And like the others his cock was so deep inside me it felt like the head went inside my uterus. I did everything I could do to get him out of me, but couldn't. He pulled back out fast then hammered his cock back beep inside me and held it there. He then let out a low moan and I felt his cock exploding his hot young sperm deep inside me. All the men standing around started laughing and pointing at him as he filled me with his hot seed. I knew they were making fun of him for cumming so fast. I was just happy that it was over and done so fast. He then pulled out of me and went running back into the village. My little red poke-a-dot panties kind of fell back over my pussy. The crotch was soon soaked with all the sperm leaking out of me. Again I tried to get free but couldn't. I yelled out in vain, you mother fuckers let me go right now. My husband is going to kill you. I knew that none of them understood a thing that I had just said, or even cared what I said. I started crying as I pulled and yanked on the ropes. I was so mad and I think I was even madder at myself for cumming with the Chief like a slut. I was always told that a woman could turn off her mind if she was raped. That you could let the guy have his fun then move on with your life. No one ever told me that your body could turn on you. That you could start enjoying it and actually have and orgasm with the man raping you. I was so mad, I not only came with him but I fucked him back and loved it. Just then another one of the tribal men stepped up by my feet looking down at me. I looked up to see this big black man standing over me. He was not all that fat just big. He looked like he could be a linebacker for the Pittsburgh Steelers. He also dropped his loincloth on the ground as he dropped down at my feet. I tried to kick him away from me, but missed. He grabbed both my ankles and opened my legs like they were putty. There was nothing I could do to stop this man from opening my legs as wide as he felt like opening them. His big black cock looked even fatter and longer than the others that I had seen. It was about half hard and getting harder as he looked down at my white pussy leaking out the others sperm. Then I noticed something about his cock that really scared me. It looked as if he had some kind of implants under the skin all along the top of it. The only thing that I can think of that it looked like was the top of a dinosaurs tail. The lumps were about the size of a bean. So I'm thinking that maybe he had implanted little pebbles or something like that. Whatever it was he was getting ready to sink that monster inside me. He took both my ankles in one of his big hands and held my legs straight up. He then took his now hard cock in his hand and started it towards my wet little pussy. I was squirming around and pleading with him not to do this to me. But he was not to be denied, he was going to fuck me if I liked it or not. I then felt the big head of his black cock slip so easily between my slick pussy lips. Still squirming around trying to get his cock out of me I yelled up at him, "stop you fucker you." Well he didn't stop and wasn't going to stop. Once he had the head of his hard cock well inside me he took a hold of both my ankles again in each of his hands. He then opened my legs as wide as they would go, still holding them up in the air. I looked down between my legs to see that he had just the head of his bumpy cock inside me. It felt as big as a flashlight or something. Again I started pleading with him. "Please don't do this to me, I'm married, I love my Husband." He just smiled down at me and slowly started slipping his big cock a little deeper inside me. I started crying again and moaned, " please stop, please don't do this to me". His cock was now about half way inside me. I was so slick and wet from the other two's cum this bigger cock didn't hurt one bit as he slowly kept sinking more and more of it inside me. My body was doing it to me again; this big cock was starting to feel good. Those bumps on his cock were rubbing on my wet clitoris each time he went in and out. I started rolling my head from side to side as I begged him again to please stop. He now had about of his cock inside me and was fucking me every so slowly. I moaned out, "oh my God please stop as my hips pushed up to meet his down stroke". My clit was on fire and I knew the only way to put that fire out was to keep fucking this guy. Right then it went from rape to all out fucking. Oh my God his cock was driving me wild. He still wasn't all the way inside and he didn't have to be. I was now his for the taking. I had just turned into a full-blown slut. All I knew is that this cock that was inside me right then was the best feeling I've ever had in my pussy. I was trying to fuck up to him faster but he kept up the slow pumps that were driving me wild. Hank has used French ticklers on me in the passed, with all the little bumpy things on them. But it was nothing like this cock I was now getting. This man was smiling down at me and knew full well that he was about to have this white wife cumming on his cock. He was still pumping in me very slow as I now hooked my legs around his back and started begging for him to go faster. It didn't take much of his big cock and the clit rubbing it was giving me to push me over the top. I pushed up to him as hard as I could and moaned out ohhhhhhh yes I'm cumming. As my orgasm went through my body he took this time to push his big cock all the way inside my cumming pussy. Again I felt a cock slip all the way inside of my uterus. This was a feeling that I'd never felt before this Safari. This set me off into a second orgasm with this man. This time I yelled out, OHHHHH FUCK YESSSSSS, OH GOD DON'T STOP, PLEASE DON"T STOPPPPPPP. As I was holding my ass up off the ground trying to get even more of his fantastic cock deep inside me, he just kept up the slow fucking. Only thing, now he was taking very long strokes. He would pull out till just the head of his cock was covered with my pussy lips. Then slowly sink back inside me until the head slipped back inside my uterus. The way his cock kept flicking my clit with the bumps on it was just too much for me to handle. I looked up at him and moaned, "mmmmm God I love you". Where that had come from I'll never know. Must have been the heat of the moment. Right about this time he decided it was time to pick up speed. Still taking full deep strokes inside me, he started hammering his cock in me. Faster and faster he started slamming his cock in me. I tried my best to keep in time with his fucking. He was fucking me now like some kind of wild animal. He even started taking turns sucking on my super hard nipples as he filled me with cock. I looked down between us to see that I was totally filled with his bumpy cock each time he pushed into me. I couldn't believe it but his cock started getting even bigger as I knew he was about to cum. Then it happened. He took a hold of my hips and pushed himself as deep as he could inside me and moaned ahhhhh. I also moaned out, oh yessss I'm cumminggggggggg as I felt his big black cock pumping his hot seed deep into my uterus. He pulled all the way out and sprayed some hot sperm on my clitoris before he sank back inside me and shot even more in my uterus. I just kept cumming and cumming as we both came together right there on the ground in front of all the tribe. My orgasm was slowly slipping away and my mind was starting to return too normal as this man quickly pulled his cock out of me. I looked down to see that my clit was covered with his thick creamy sperm and a river of it was running out between my pussy lips. He stood up smiling down at me as he put his loincloth back on. Then just as quickly another nude black man stepped between my spread legs. And again before I even had time to protest he was on top of me filling me with long black cock. I moaned, oh God no, not again, please stop I can't take any more. Just then a lot of yelling started and people started running all around. The guy fucking me pulled out and took off running to the village. Two men untied my arms, pulled the stakes out of the ground and took off for the village also. In less than a minute I was left alone laying on my sleeping bag with three men's sperm leaking out of me. I sat up to see what had spooked all of them, but saw nothing. My tee shirt fell back down covering my breast and I put my little red poke-a-dot panties back over my leaking pussy. The crotch was so wet from all the sperm leaking out of me. I started crying as I was thinking, God I'll never be satisfied with Hanks cock again. Not the way that I just got fucked. And the way that I came with that man, oh my God. A few minutes later I saw Jameraka and the group coming out of the jungle heading back to the village. Now I knew why my gangbang had ended so fast. I saw Hank was in the middle of the group. As soon as he saw me he came walking over to me. He sat down next to me and asked, "what ya doing out here all by yourself", as he gave me a kiss? I busted out crying as I fell into his arms. "Brandy, what's the matter, what happened", Hank asked? Still crying I said, "I'm so sorry Hank. I had sex with Chief Zoomama again". Hanks eyes got real big as a smile formed on his face and he said, "I think your starting to like getting his black cock"? "Hank you don't understand. I had sex with him again and I had an orgasm with him". "So what" Hank replied. "Hank, I'm your wife, I came with another man. How do you feel about that? You should be the only person that I ever come with. I feel like a total slut". "Brandy, if I'm okay with it, you should be okay with it. Its just sex". Then Hank slowly slipped his hand down inside the front of my little red poke-a-dot panties. Once his fingers came in contact with my slick leaking vagina he moaned, " God Brandy is this the Chiefs cum I feel?" "Hank, what in the hell is wrong with you? Four men had just more or less raped me and you're turned on by the fact that their sperm is leaking out of me?" Hanks eyes got very big as he replied, four guys, not just the Chief? Did they hurt you? Crying again I said, "No Hank, they didn't hurt me. Oh God Hank, I enjoyed it. Hank was now sliding two fingers in and out of my slick and hot little vagina as he asked; did they all make you cum? Still crying I hugged Hank and said, I'm sorry baby, yes two of them made me cum. That was it, Hank couldn't take any more. He picked me up in his arms and about run to our hut. Once inside he dropped me on the mat and started removing his clothes. I was still crying and trying to tell him how sorry I was for what had happened. He didn't hear a thing that I had said. I looked up to see him standing there nude with a big hard-on looking down at me. Hank then pulled my tee shirt off in one fast move that left me lying there in just my sperm soaked little red poke-a-dot panties. He opened my legs and got down on his knees between them. He hooked is finger in the waistband and ripped them right off me in one fast jerk. He then kind of sat back looking at my vagina. With a big smile on his face he finely spoke, "oh my God Brandy, all of there cum is still leaking out of you". Then I think I got the shock of my life. Hank dropped down between my legs getting a close up view of my leaking vagina. Then I felt his tongue enter the bottom of my pussy and he licked ever so slowly all the way up to my clit. I about jumped out of my skin as I yell, "Oh God Hank, what are you doing? Stop that, that's so gross." He gave my wet pussy maybe ten long slow licks before he moved up over the top of me. He then kissed me and I could taste the four men's sperm on his lips. Hank stopped kissing me and moaned, "oh God I got to have you now". Having said that he slowly sank his hard cock into me. He was about half way in me when he moaned, "ahhhhhhh God I'm cumming", as he now pushed as deep inside me as he could. I felt his cock jerking inside me and knew that I was now getting my fifth load of cum pumped inside my wet pussy. I looked up at him and asked," Hank, what the hell is happing to us? We have turned into perverts on this trip." Smiling down at me Hank replied, "isn't it great." He then gave me a long hot kiss. He broke the kiss and then moved down to kissing my neck. Then on down to my nipples. He took his time kissing and sucking on each of my super hard nipples. Next he started kissing his way down over my tummy. Lower and lower he kept kissing until he was right above slick, sperm leaking pussy. He slowly sank two fingers inside my sloppy pussy as he rose up looking at me and said, "mother fucker your pussy looks so good I'm going to eat you until you can't cum anymore!" It took a second for me to comprehend that Hank was about eat my messy vagina again, that was covered with those other men's sperm, and now his. "No, No Hank you can't do that, I'm so dirty down there, no please don't do that," as I was squirming around to get away from him. Hank held my hips in place and again I felt his tongue enter the bottom of my vagina and lick from bottom to top. I was still fighting to get free from him as he kept licking me. I moaned, "Oh God Hank that is so gross please stop it" But in the back of my mind I'm thinking, oh God he's licking other men's cum out of my pussy. Never in my life did I think anything like this would ever happen to me. Well, Hank didn't stop licking me. He started tongue fucking me. Then he took his time at sucking on each of my libia lips then moving up to suck on my clitoris. In a very short time I went from thinking how gross this was to holding onto Hanks head as he sucked his and the others sperm out of me. What in the hell has this safari turned us into? I came here a happily married woman. Now I'm having sex with black me, and loving it. And Hank loves it also, what's up with that? Hank is now eating my pussy after other men had pumped me full of their cum. He loves it as much as I am. I'm asking my self all this as Hanks about to bring me to a wild orgasm with his tongue. Are we sick people or is this normal I ask myself as I pull Hanks head tight to my pussy and yell out, "OH YESSSSS, YESSSS I'M CUMMMMMMMING." I came really hard with Hanks tongue licking me. As I was coming down from my orgasm Hank started kissing his way back up my body. Stopping to again give my hard nipples a nice sucking. Next he moved on up and we kissed. This time I could taste the four men's sperm plus his as we kissed. Still kissing I felt Hanks again hard cock sink back into me. I moaned in his mouth as I pushed my hips up to take all of him inside me. I don't know how he could be enjoying this? I was so wet and sloppy and my vagina wasn't a bit tight. It must have felt like screwing a bowl of hot pudding. He moaned in my mouth "oh fuck Brandy, your pussy feels so good. I never dreamed your pussy would feel so good after being fucked by other guys." I didn't get to cum this time. Hank gave me at the most ten pumps before he moaned out, "OH GOD BRANDY I'M CUMMING IN YOU CUMMY PUSSY AGAIN." I could just barely feel his hard cock jerking as he pumped his hot sperm into me. I pulled his butt down to me as I pushed up to him. I just moaned out, "that's it baby, cum in me, give me your cum." Now totally out of gas Hank rolled off me panting for air. I rolled over and kissed him and then asked, "Hank what the fuck has happened to us? We are not the same two people that came down here." Kissing me back he replied, " Baby I don't know what happened, but I sure do like it. Our sex life has never been this wild. I say we keep it up until we return home. Then we can go back to being the normal old Dick and Jane." Looking at him I asked, "are you sure you're not up set about me getting screwed by them guys? Or more, you're not up set that I came with them? I feel that a woman should only have an orgasm with her husband. This doesn't bother you at all?" Kissing me again Hank said, "bother me, hell no, I love it. I get so horny when I hear you say that you came with them. That's the point you should cum with them. That way I know that you're enjoying the fucking you're getting as much as I'm enjoying your pussy full of their cum." "Oh God, we are one hundred percent perverts now" I replied. Smiling Hank then asked me, " so does this mean you'll now go topless for me in front of all the tribe? You have no idea how much that would turn me on to see all these men checking out your nice tits", as he gave my left breast a little squeeze. Kissing him back I said, "hell why not, shit they all have seen me nude by this point." Smiling from ear to ear Hank then said, "and you know I'm dying to see you getting one of these long black cocks. I can't wait to see that happen." Kissing him again I replied, "Maybe you'll get you're wish later on tonight, we'll see. But for now we better get cleaned up, it's going to be dinner time soon." THE END (of part 3) Readers reply please. Should I keep it going or let it end here? Let me know if I should start an ending Part Four. [email protected] (11-30-07)

"Hello, and welcome to You Bet Your Wife. The show where only the contestant's wit can stop us from using his wife on national TV," boomed, an unseen announcer. "Now let's give a big welcome to Zoya Takoni, our host and the sexiest, kinkiest star in Hollywood." A bright spotlight shot across the dark stage to reveal Zoya strutting across the stage. Her welcome consisted of nearly as much whopping as applause. Zoya clearly enjoyed the attention and rewarded the audience with a confident sexy walk, which would have challenged every man in the room, even if her body had been hidden by loose fabric from head to toe. To the obvious delight of the audience her outfit obviously made no attempt to hide anything. Today she was wearing a black leather mini skirt slit up the side to expose the thin strap of a blue thong. A transparent blue shirt, held closed in the middle by a single tie covered, though only in a very generous sense of the word, her top. Through the delicate blue fabric a matching bra was clearly visible. The entire outfit, would only barely have qualified for late night network TV, thankfully this wasn't network TV. At the center of the stage a sleek couch waited by itself for the host. Just big enough for two people to both sit on, it was clearly designed to force its occupants into close contact. Zoya stopped in front of the couch waiting as the audience to quiet and the lights rose on this stage. Zoya stood on the middle of a glass stage empty except for herself and the couch. This stage was now brightly illuminated both by spotlights and a multitude of small lights shining up through the floor but nearby the outline of another circular stage were visible but its contents were obscured by darkness. Flashing a naughty little smile Zoya asked the audience, "Is everyone ready for me to win someone's wife?" "Well then let's meet our contestant tonight!" The deep voiced announcer broke in again, "Give a big hand to our contestant, Michael Schmidt from Chicago Illinois." A new spotlight lit Michael's entrance. He was fashionably, though somewhat conservatively dressed in khaki slacks and a short-sleeved button down blue shirt. A slim build along with short brown hair completed his look as an attractive young professional. Coming up to Zoya, Michael reached out his hand to great her but disregarding Michael's attempted handshake, Zoya warmly kissed him on the cheek. "Hi Michael, congratulation for qualifying for You Bet Your Wife." Following Zoya's gesture Michael and Zoya sat on the couch, the short length unavoidably pushing Zoya's bare legs up against Michael. "Before we start the game tonight maybe you could tell us a little bit about yourself, Michael." asked Zoya while flashing him a flirtatious smile that would have challenged the vows of monk. "Well I'm 23 years old recent college graduate. I finished up at UCLA only a little over a year ago," answer Michael his voice betraying a mixture of nervousness and the unconscious desire to impress a pretty woman. As soon as the enthusiastic UCLA supporters in the audience died down Zoya continued her friendly questioning, "So what caused you to move to Chicago?" "Work. It was the only place where both my wife and I could find employment." "So what do you do?" "I'm a computer programmer. I work for a firm that makes personal budgeting software." "And your wife?" "Allison does typesetting for the newspaper." "Those are pretty different jobs, how did you two meet?" "Well actually they aren't that different, we both do our work on the computer. That's how we meet. Allison lived across the hall from me our sophomore year and we met when she needed help installing some of her typesetting software. When we were both single the next year I asked her out and we've been together ever since," Michael replied smiling at the memory. "Ohh that's sweet, and when did you get married?" "Last year, right after we graduated from college." "So since you started dating her has anyone else slept with your wife?" "Not that I know of," responded Michael with a nervous little laugh. "Does putting Allison on You Bet Your Wife, make you nervous? You know you might have to watch her sleep with someone else on national TV." "Sure, I'm a little nervous but I'm going to quit before that can happen." Zoya's smile became a little devious at this response. It wouldn't be hard to tease Michael into risking a lot more than he planned. Not questioning his response Zoya continued, "So what made you decide to compete in You Bet Your Wife?" "Actually it was my wife's idea. We've been thinking about starting a family so we want to purchase a house. Even though Allison's very pretty we didn't really think we were going to be selected when we applied but she didn't think having someone fondle her breasts would be the end of the world and we could get enough money to purchase our dream house." At the mention of someone fondling Allison's breasts Michael twisted a little in his seat obviously not entirely comfortable with the idea. Lightly touching Michael's arm Zoya said, "I wish you luck getting that house. Are you ready to start playing?" "Sure" "Do you remember the rules?" "I'm pretty sure I have them down." "Well let me remind you and the audience," Zoya said launching into a practiced description. "Before this show started we gave Michael and his wife a psychological questioner as well as interviewing their friends. Our experts have examined those responses and figured out a secret dark fantasy of Allison's. How much of that fantasy Allison has to act out in front of our studio audience depends on how well Michael can answer our questions." "The questions work much like Who Wants to be a Millionaire. The first question is worth one thousand dollars and each additional question twice the previous question up to a total of ten questions. Like Millionaire the contestant can request a hint but he must 'pay' for his hint by removing a major article of clothing. Unlike Millionaire a wrong answer doesn't cause the contestant to forfeit money, it causes his wife to forfeit sexual favors. The later the question the more his wife has to pay for the mistake. For instance a wrong answer on the first question might require the contestant's wife to strip down to a bra and panties. An incorrect answer on question two, whether or not the contestant got the first question right, might cause his wife to strip down to only her panties. We can't have contestants cutting and running once they start to lose so you can only ask us to release your wife after a correct answer but the contestant can always choose not to spare his w! ife even if he gets the questions right. The later questions are harder than the earlier ones. There is also an extra special bonus for getting the tenth question right." Pausing Zoya suggestively liked her lips making sure to rest her hand on Michael's thigh to make the beneficiary clear, "I'm your slave for the night." Rubbing her hand up and down over Michael's thigh Zoya suggestively continued, "I promise you won't be disappointed. Even better any couple getting all ten questions correct will have any reasonable sexual fantasy of their choice fulfilled. They may even select audience or staff members of their choice to participate. Our lawyers assure us that the contract our audience members have signed is completely binding. However, so as not to disappoint the viewing public the successful contestant must appoint an audience or staff member, such as myself, to take the place of the contestant's wife as if all ten questions had been answered incorrectly. On the other hand if you get the tenth question wrong not only are you going to be publicly cuckolded but the contestant must follow my orders while his wife is exploited and of cou! rse I get a large cash bonus. Contestants getting all ten questions wrong become the property of this show for one year." "Alight Michael, are you ready to see the situation we have arranged for your wife?" Still somewhat nervous but also quite curious what dark fantasy lurked in Allison's man Michael gave a brief nod. At his assent the second stage was sprayed with spotlights and burst into view. The first thing Michael noticed about the other stage was the transparent box, pulleys and ropes hanging from its ceiling, surrounding the entire structure. He wondered if it was to keep over-enthusiastic spectators out or reluctant participants inside but before he could dwell on the troubling second option he finally noticed his wife standing in the center of the second stage. If Zoya's outfit invited men to ogle her body Allison's tight leather corset demanded they fuck her. The rest of Allison's outfit did nothing to dissuade them. A small black thong, the straps obviously designed to be easily untied, was her only other covering. Boots and a wide leather collar completed the look. Allison wasn't the only person on the other stage. Standing around her stood four shirtless well-built men wearing only tight leather pants. Showing a degree of self! control obviously beyond the audience they maintained a military at-ease position looking out into the crowd instead of ogling the barely clothed beauty in their midst. A tall blond haired women paced around the four men making sure they maintained their discipline. Skin-tight red latex covered her from head to toe but she carried a long black riding crop to discourage any ideas her outfit might provoke. After a moment for Michael and the audience to absorb Allison's predicament Zoya returned to her role as the host. Addressing the woman in the skintight red cat suit Zoya asked, "Mistress Dena, could you please tell Michael and our audience what you plan to do with his wife." The lady in the red cat suit responded in a clipped authoritarian tone, "First I am going to have Allison handcuffed show she can't object to our later uses of her. Then I am going to have one of my men remove her panties." While mistress Dena continued her list she was slowly pacing around Allison running her black riding crop over Allison's body dramatically illustrating her worlds. "After Michael's third mistake Allison's ankles will be bound in chains. Next we will suspend her by those ankle ties, leaving her dangling and helpless in the air." With the graphic description of how she would be stripped and helplessly bound Allison began to tremble slightly, though with fear or desire even she wasn't sure. The mistress took note of her reaction but continued her list without the slightest warming of tone. "Suspended revealingly I will violate and toy with Allison and then force her to please one of my assistants. Her last shred of clothing will be striped from her and after this we will string her up horizontally giving me complete access to her body. Once she is hanging in the air with her legs spread I will let one of my assistants take her. Should her husband get the last question incorrect I will let my assistants use her as a fuck toy until they are fully satisfied." By now Allison's nervousness was clearly displayed on her face but the way her body would follow the light touch of her mistress's crop suggested that nervousness was mixed with desire. "Don't worry," mistress Dena said turing to Allison with a slight smile, "my men have plenty of stamina. They won't be satisfied for some time." Zoya turned back to Michael asking, "So how do you feel about what we have in store for your wife?" "Well it makes me a little nervous," replied Michael his voice trembling just a bit. "It also turns you on doesn't it," Zoya asserted running her hand up Michael's thigh and grasping his hard member through his pants to make her point. Michael's body twitched in response to Zoya's attentions but obviously feeling uncomfortable with his wife so publicly at risk he said nothing. "Well it is to late for you to turn back now, Michael," intoned Zoya, "it's time for your first question." Michael quickly answered the first two questions without any apparent difficulty. With each correct answer Zoya would now on the third question, "What is the second tallest mountain in the world," he seemed stumped. Being pressed up against Zoya, who never missed an opportunity to touch his arm or leg, wasn't helping his concentration. "I should know this," commented Michael, "but it just seems to have slipped my mind." Zoya began to finger the buttons on Michael's shirt and reminded him, "You know if you let me take off your shirt you can have a hint." Michael hesitated for a moment glancing at his wife who was watching him intently, an unreadable look on her face and he answered, "Sure." Allison stared unwaveringly, her expression indecipherable, as Zoya teasingly undid Michael's buttons. His shirt unbuttoned, revealing a trim well-muscled chest, Michael finished pulling it off flashing a guilty look towards Allison. Zoya's fingernails scraped lightly over Michael's pecks and trailed down his stomach to run teasingly along his belt line. The bulge in Michael's pants making the effect clear to anyone in the audience. Finally, deciding she had been enough of a tease for now Zoya whispered her clue in Michael's ear, "There is a 'two' in the name." Zoya's fingers idly traced pattern's on Michael's bare top, distracting him while he searched for an answer he should know. Finally realizing the answer wasn't going to come to him he relented, "Alight, I give up." "Ohh too bad," Zoya replied placing a lingering kiss on Michael's lips, "Let's watch what happens to your wife." In response to a barked command from their mistress the four men standing around Allison moved in to extract the cost of Michael's mistake. Allison stood calmly as the men closed in around her but her face betrayed nervousness and desire. Acting in concert the men behind Allison grasped her wrists, their strong hands holding her still as they handcuffed her hands together behind her back. The two shirtless men in front bent down to bind her ankles coincidentally giving the entranced audience a perfect view of the woman being helpless bound in front of them. Their work finished Allison's muscled captors professionally stepped back ignoring the opportunity to fondle their victim. Instead they pulled the heavy steel chains now firmly locked to Allison's ankles taught giving her no choice but to spread her legs in response. The entire position, hands cuffed behind her back and legs forcibly spread apart was designed to make her feel extremely vulnerable and it was working. The red clad Mistress Dena strolled up to Allison to inspect her bound captive. Mistress Dena walked around behind Allison as if inspecting a piece of property letting her riding crop tantalizingly trace Allison's breasts and ass. In response Allison's heart began to thud in her chest but whether it was in fear or desire even she couldn't tell. Stopping behind her victim Mistress Dena reached her hands around to run them lightly over her victim's tight corset. Snaking out her tongue the red clad mistress teasingly licked Allison's ear and, in response to her sudden intake of breath, she whispered, "I'm going to have all my men fuck you while everyone watches, and your going to enjoy it." Unlike Zoya, Dena wasn't wearing a mike and the audience couldn't hear what she said but they could see and imagine from the way Allison's body suddenly stiffened. A master showman mistress Dena knew she had built up the anticipation to just the write point and swiftly untied the knots holding Allison's panties to her hips. She could hear the audience gasp as Allison's panties dropped to the floor revealing a neatly shaved ribbon of hair. Knowing when to touch and when to build anticipation mistress Dena walked back around to Allison's front. Grabbing Allison's bare ass mistress Dena pulled her in for a long slow kiss, to the audible appreciation of the men in the audience. Then, as suddenly as the kiss had begun, Dena walked away leaving a flustered Allison. "Wow that was sexy," commented Zoya to Michael, "are you ready for the next question?" Looking a little uneasy Michael gave a short nod. Smiling naughtily at Michael's discomfort Zoya read the next question which, much to Michael's relief, he answered easily. Hiding her disappointment Zoya warmly congratulated him, "With smarts like this you don't have anything to worry about," while worshipfully resting her hand on Michael's right bicep. Zoya was looking forward to making Michael squirm while he watched Mistress Dena publicly turn his wife into a slut but she had to be careful and make sure he didn't chicken out. As it was, her carefully crafted compliment was having the desired effect and Michael confidently announced he was ready for the next question. "Name the two moons of mars." The question hung for a minute in the air, the troubled look on Michael's face revealing his confusion. As Michael wracked his mind looking for the answer Zoya's hands began distractingly trailing over his chest. His attention divided Michael struggled to stay focused but he couldn't help but watch Zoya's teasing fingers slide under the waist of his pants. Toying with the button on his slacks Zoya made him a compelling offer, "Let me take these off and you can have another hint." Zoya knew reducing Michael to just his underwear would distract him far more than the hint might help but her fingers were keeping Michael from thinking straight. Torn at the offer Michael looked to his wife for advice and naturally found her staring back at him watching another women tease her husband but the apprehensive look on her face made up his mind. Resolving not to get another question wrong and let this go any further he gave Zoya the answer she was hoping for, "Alight, I'll take the hint." Flashing a triumphant smile toward Allison Zoya began slowly undoing Michael's pants. In keeping with her part of the bargain Zoya relayed to Michael the hint she received over her ear piece, "One of them is named Demos and the other starts with a P," while her skillful hands sought to undermine any benefit the hint might have given Michael. Seemingly incidentally Zoya took every chance to rub against Michael's hardening penis as she pulled his slacks down around her ankles. Finding himself very exposed, not to mention aroused, in nothing but a pair of silk boxers obviously tented up by his engorged penis a flustered Michael guessed desperately, "Portos." "Ohh, I'm so sorry," Zoya responded with faked sympathy, "The correct answer is Phobos, I'm afraid," Zoya continued tracing the edge of Michael's penis with a fingernail, "that your wife is going to have to pay for that." Traitorously Michael's penis twitched in arousal revealing another weakness for Zoya to manipulate. Pretending she hadn't noticed, Zoya continued, "Mistress Dena would you please take charge of Allison's payment." Slapping the riding crop against her leg Mistress Dena barked out an order. Jumping to obey one of the shirtless men behind Allison slipped his thick muscular arms around Allison's waste forcing her to lean back against his bare chest. Moving together as a team two other men in leather pants threw the chains attached to Allison's ankles up over two large pulleys, which hung from the ceiling. Rhythmically, in short sure strokes, the men pulled the metal links down over those pulleys inevitably dragging Allison's ankles up towards the ceiling. Allison's black boots were yanked off the floor forcing her weight to be supported by the man behind her and the chains fastened about her black leather boots. The extra weight seemed not to matter to the men on the chains, muscles bulging they continued to hoist Allison's ankles higher until her feet dangled from the chains nine feet off the floor. With a snap of finality the fourth man locked the metal chains to fixtures in the fl! oor and the man who had been holding Allison about the waste gently released her to hang by her ankles. Michael watched fascinated as Allison was hoisted into the air. Despite himself he couldn't help but be aroused by the sight of his bottomless wife helplessly hung with her legs split into a Y. Turned on herself Zoya continued to lightly trace Michael's penis with her fingernail. In her mind Zoya relished the thought of toying with Michael while he watched Mistress Dena repeatedly use his wife. First though she had to make sure he didn't get away. Capitalizing on his fixated stare Zoya slipped her hand up under his boxers skillfully using her hand to bring Michael to new levels of distraction. Mistress Dena paced around her helpless hanging victim letting the exposing nature of the situation sink in. Without panties and suspended upside down with spread legs Allison's most private parts were on public display. Tantalizingly Mistress Dena ran a finger down over Allison's inner thigh, circling but not touching her flushed lips. Pausing for a moment Mistress Dena looked out challengingly at the audience deliberately bringing her finger up to her lips and sexily sucking on it. Knowing what was coming the audience sat silently at the edge of their seats as the red clad blonde dominatrix dragged her wet finger over Allison's sensitive pussy then suddenly pushing it in between the waiting lips. Pleased with the gasp her invasion of Allison's ready pussy elicited Dena withdrew her finger now covered in her juices. Mistress Dena knew what the audience, or at least the men, wanted to see. Bringing her finger down to Allison's mouth, which hung at about waist level, she ordered, "Suck it." Allison shook her head no, keeping her lips tightly sealed. Quick as a flash the riding crop was in Mistress Dena's other hand harshly smacking Allison's bare ass. Mistress Dena ordered again, "Suck it," and this time Allison reluctantly opened her mouth and dutifully sucked off her own juices while the audience cheered. Stepping back so she could watch Allison's face Mistress Dena turned to one of her male underlings ordering, "Bring me the violator." The blonde dominatrix watched with satisfaction as desire and fear warred on her captive's face; she prided herself on using a victims own sexual need to break them teasing and tormenting them until they begged to be violated and used in the most graphic ways. Taking the large black dildo by the long prominent handle from her assistant she leisurely walked back to Allison. Placing the rounded end against Allison's knee Mistress Dena lightly ran the rounded tip of the violator over her victim's inner thing and then on down over the tight black corset still covering Allison's top. Resting the thick artificial penis against Allison's throat Mistress Dena listened to the sweat sound of her victim's heavy anticipatory breathing. Deciding it was time to make Allison complicit in her abuse Mistress Dena demanded, "Tell me what you think I'm going to do with this." Allison balked for a moment but as the red clad dominatrix shifted to take her riding crop she nervously spoke up, "You're going to violate me with it." Seeing the stern frown on Mistress Dena's face Allison realized she wouldn't be satisfied with anything but a graphic description. Realizing she had no choice the normally demure Allison gave in, "You are going to take that big black dildo and push it into my pussy. Then you're going to keep pumping it in and out while the audience watches me get violated." "Very good," complimented the blonde dominatrix, "but you forgot to say how much you were going to enjoy it." Taking the blunt end of the long black rod away from Allison's throat Mistress Dena walked around behind Allison so everyone could have a clear view of her face. Bringing the black dildo up between Allison's legs Mistress Dena rested it on Allison's entrance. "Take a look around," taunted the dominatrix, "everyone, even your husband, wants to see you penetrated." Slowly now the thick black rod sank down pushing it's way deep into Allison's body. Unable to help herself Allison closed her eyes and groaned in pleasure as she was filled. Reaching around the large black rod Mistress Dena's finger's found Allison's clit and began to massage while her other hand continued to ram the rod in and out of her helpless victim. Listening to his wife describe how she was going to be used had an irresistible effect on Michael. Despite himself Michael found himself muttering under his breath, "Yes, give it to her," as the black rod slid into his wife. Taking advantage of the situation Zoya leaned over whispering in Michael's ear while her hand continued to excite his penis to new levels of arousal. "Isn't it great to see her helplessly violated," Zoya whispered, "that big black dildo slides in and out of your wife while everyone watches. Wouldn't you like to take me from behind while we watch your wife get off? You can make it happen if you get the last question right," Zoya suggested rubbing Michael's penis for emphasis. Helplessly Michael found himself considering the idea, but he was soon distracted by Allison's cries. "Ohh god, ohh god," moaned Allison her cries of pleasure amplified to fill the entire set. Michael could tell his wife was on the verge of orgasm but Mistress Dena wasn't about to allow anything of the kind. Cruelly denying Allison her release the blonde dominatrix pushed the dildo deep into her victim and left it impaled there. Mistress Dena briefly continued to torment Allison by teasing her clit watching her struggle helplessly in midair in a futile attempt to gain leverage against the dildo still penetrating her body and achieve release. A barely audible "please" escaped Allison's mouth before she clamped it shut resolving not to beg like a slut in front of all these people. With false innocence the red clad dominatrix asked, "Did you want something?" When Allison didn't respond Mistress Dena shrugged, it was still too early to expect her victim to start begging, and then motioned one of her shirtless underlings over. Taking the man's large hand she placed it around the black rod protruding from Allison and carefully positioned his large fingers over her victim's sensitive clit. Ignoring the sharp hiss from below a man's touch elicited Mistress Dena sharply instructed her assistant, "Use your fingers to keep her just shy of orgasm. If she comes you will be sorry," threatened the blond dominatrix, "but a job well done will be rewarded," emphasizing her last comment with a pointed glance at the helpless girl hanging in front of them. "Mmmm, your wife is a sexy little thing," commented Zoya, "she really seems to be enjoying her treatment." "Mmmm," answered Michael noncommittally his attention focused on watching his wife twitch and squirm as the muscular man behind her expertly teased her clit. Pressing the issue Zoya continued her hand moving to cup Michael's penis as she spoke, "If she doesn't like it why is she moaning so much?" "Okay, I guess it really turns her on," Michael reluctantly admitted, "what's your point?" "Only that it doesn't really seem fair for you to just watch her enjoy herself without getting anything for yourself," Zoya answered taking Michael's hand and pulling it to her bare stomach to emphasis what she meant by anything. Automatically Michael found himself pulling Zoya in for a deep kiss. Allowing Michael's hands to pull her in Zoya knelt over Michael's waist grinding her crotch against his as they kissed. Breaking the kiss Zoya arched back giving the overhead camera a good shot of Michael's hands groping her breasts. Judging she had Michael right were she wanted him, it was a really big bonus if he missed the last question after all. Zoya sprung her trap, "You know if you get the tenth question right my body is yours to use. It's only fair you get to enjoy yourself too." "I suppose," answered Michael torn between the promise he made to Allison to quit early and the nearly irresistible desire to fuck Zoya. He glanced over Zoya's shoulder at his wife still twitching in desire but also intently watching his seduction. Evading the issue for the moment, he had to answer the next question no matter what, Michael instead asked for the next question. Without abandoning her position kneeling across Michael Zoya immediately asked, "Who is the president of Russia?" Excited and distracted Michael found himself blurting out, "Gorbachov." As soon as he said it he realized his mistake saying, "No, no that's not what I meant!" "Ohh that's too bad," cooed Zoya, "I'm afraid we have to take your first answer. Mistress Dena would you do the honors." "Hey," Michael protested, "I got the right answer. It was just a slip of the tongue." To Michael's dismay only Zoya seemed to hear his objections and she made no motion to stop the blonde dominatrix. Instead Zoya leaned over on top of Michael swinging her leg over his lap and rubbing her smooth toned thigh against his tented boxers, not incidentally pushing her already scandalous miniskirt even higher. Nibbling Michael's ear Zoya whispered, "What's the problem? Don't you want to see Allison suck cock?" Stroking his penis Zoya continued taunting Michael, "Don't you want to see your sweat little wife's mouth sliding up and down big hard cock?" Helplessly Michael found himself distracted by Zoya's disturbing, yet extremely erotic, suggestions. Losing the fight with his arousal Michael's protests died on his lips and he stared fixedly at the other stage his face contorted with desire and horror. Well versed in the power of suspense Mistress Dena calmly strutted back towards Allison giving her time to think about what was about to happen. With a gentle touch of the fingers the blond dominatrix indicated her shirtless helper should stop teasing Allison. With a look of detached interest Mistress Dena began to examine Allison with her fingers. Even lightly touching the area where Allison's labia spread to take in the wide black dildo produced a muffled moan and a bit of frustrated struggling. Finished with her exam Mistress Dena slapped her riding crop across Allison's breasts, even through the corset producing a yelp, and declared, "Your about ready to cum. You want to be fucked bad don't you?" When Allison defiantly refused to answer Mistress Dena simply shrugged and turned to her beautifully built assistant standing ready in front of Allison. The blond dominatrix deliberately circled around behind her assistant making sure Allison's face hung mere inches from his waist. Reaching around from behind she started lightly running her painted nails over his well-defined chest. Through extreme discipline the man stood at attention without the slightest facial twitch as the Mistress Dena's fingers traced their way from his chest down to his abdomen. Addressing her assistant but loud enough for Allison and the microphones to hear, the blond dominatrix commented, "You did a good job not letting that slut cum." Hearing herself address as 'that slut' hit Allison like a high voltage shock. Outraged at the slight she twisted forcefully against her bounds doing little twisting herself around the large black dildo firmly planted between her legs. Allison tried to fight back a moan but the fact that they could call her a slut and she couldn't do anything about it was too arousing. Hating herself for being turned on by it, and hating herself even more for showing she was turned on by it she still couldn't stop the gasp of pleasure from escaping her lips. Ignoring Allison's struggles Mistress Dena's nails continued to work their way down her handsome assistants torso. Reaching his tight leather pants the blonde dominatrix began deliberately untying the laces. While her hands worked to free the bulge in her assistant's pants her voice revealed her intent, "I promised you a reward for a good job and you deserve it." Knowing full well what was going to happen, Allison watched with hypnotic fascination as Mistress Dena first undid the black leather pants and then slid her hand into them to emerge with a large semi-erect cock. Unable to turn away Allison stared as Mistress Dena's fingernails skillfully brought her assistants manhood to attention. Desire and fear warred in Allison's mind as she watched the penis grow to a large erect cock. His penis fully erect Mistress Dena grabbed the man's wrists and pulled his hands up, policeman style, behind his head. Giving his cock one last stroke the blond dominatrix commented, "Don't move and enjoy your reward." Turning to Allison Mistress Dena ordered, "Alight slut, get to it and start sucking." Staring at the large dick inches from her face Allison swallowed nervously and paused. How could she take that much? The harsh sting, of a riding crop on her ass, interrupted her thoughts. "Didn't you hear me slut," demanded Mistress Dena whilst striking her hard across the ass again, "start sucking." Desperate to avoid the stinging pain Allison opened wide and dove down on the waiting cock. "Isn't that hot," whispered Zoya into Michael's ear, "I just love the way your wife is sucking on that cock." Michael grunted noncommittally in response his attention focused on the large screen displaying a close-up of Allison's face, her eyes firmly shut in a look of deep concentration. "See how tightly her lips are wrapped around that hard penis," Zoya continued massaging Michael's penis through his boxers, "and how deeply that dick is sliding into her mouth." Michael softly groaned in repressed desire and Zoya continued her pornographic commentary to the giant image of his wife sucking cock. Not wanting to push Michael over the edge yet Zoya gave his penis one last rub and pulled away. "It looks like your wife is going to be sucking that dick for awhile so we had better move on to the next question." Still watching Allison give head Michael barely responded but Zoya continued anyway. "How many electoral votes does Florida cast in the US presidential election," Zoya a! sked now back in announcer mode. "Jesus Christ," swore Michael still watching his wife's face slide up and down the glistening shaft, "how am I supposed to know that?" Still focused on the video screen he finally gave up an answer, "Twenty Two." Smiling in response Zoya turned to Mistress Dena, "Would you please do the honors?" Allison's eyes snapped open in response to Mistress Dena's hands on her hips. Hanging from her ankles with her mouth filled by cock there was nothing Allison could do as the dominatrix' hands moved down her sides to begin unlacing the corset. While Allison's head continued to bob up and down Mistress Dena pulled the corset away revealing Allison's luscious breasts pulled into perfect half-spheres by the reverse gravity. Mistress Dena worked her hands around to gently cup Allison's breasts. Taking Allison's nipples between her fingers the dominatrix gave a long slow pull on the breasts. Allison's mouth opened to moan in what may have been pain or pleasure but any sound was cut off as the man thrust his rock hard penis down into her throat. Seeing her assistant's bucking hips Mistress Dena reversed her manipulations now kneading Allison's breasts with strong sure motions. The red clad dominatrix now pulled back on Allison's breasts using them as handles to move her body. Hanging from her ankles Allison easily swayed backward forcing her to lean forward just to keep the tip of the bucking penis in her mouth. Finally the cock was fully pulled from Allison's mouth giving her enough time only to exclaim, "What.." before the twitching dick spurted it's hot cum over her breasts. Mistress Dena pushed Allison's breasts together to capture the last dribbles commenting to Allison, "How does it feel to be drenched in cum on national TV?" To the audiences delight Mistress Dena forced Allison to lick the globules of cum of which had dribbled onto her finger's as well as Allison's breasts before starting to massage the rest of the hot semen into Allison's breasts. While the audience watched his naked wife get lathered in cum Michael had to face another question. Once again he was stumped, this time trying to remember the capitol of Nebraska. Realizing he wouldn't get any more sure waiting around he finally offered his answer, "Omaha." "Ohh, I'm so sorry," cooed Zoya, "the correct answer is Lincoln." Seeing that Michael had gotten another question wrong Mistress Dena gave one last tug on Allison's breasts, eliciting a disappointed sigh from her victim. "Alight boys," ordered the dominatrix, "finish stringing her up." Mistress Dena toyed with the large black dildo still impaled between her victim's legs while her men begin taking up the slack in the chains around Allison's wrists. Mistress Dena ran her nail gently around Allison's pussy lips. Ignoring her victims reluctant moans Mistress Dena taunted, "Don't worry I'm sure we can replace this with something more satisfying," as she slowly pulled the black rod out of Allison's body. "Only two more questions," taunted Zoya as they watched Allison being hoisted up horizontally. "Look at the way she is hanging their just waiting for someone to stand between her spread legs and pull your wife back onto their waiting cocks." Michael gave a stricken look as the cameras focused in between Allison's spread legs. However, his tented boxers told another story, quivering with excitement as the screen showed an artificial cock mounted on a long wooden pole, teasingly slide over his wife's entrance. Tearing his eyes away from the giant image of Allison quivering in desire he spoke, "Alight, lets get this over with ask me the next question." "What, don't you like watching," teased Zoya rubbing Michael's penis for emphasis. "Alight, here is the next question. What country in the world has the smallest population?" Watching fixedly as the artificial cock pushed slowly inside his wife Michael started to answer, "Mono..," then quickly stopped himself. If he got this question wrong that artificial penis, would be replaced by a real one. Instead he did he best to concentrate, distracted by Allison's low moans as she rocked gently back and forth driven by the artificial cock sliding in and out. Michael's rumination was interrupted by the tantalizing touch of Zoya's fingers sliding under the elastic waistband on his boxers. Shifting herself to kneel suggestively on the floor in front of Michael Zoya asked, "Do you want your final hint?" It was a difficult offer for Michael to refuse from a woman leaning over to gently blow on his penis through the thing fabric. Still he managed to pause for a second before assenting and leaning back to let Zoya slowly pull his boxers down to his ankles. Darting forward Zoya gave a teasing lick to Michael's glistening shaft before settling back and announcing Michael's hint, "The answer is religious." "The Vatican," Michael announced suddenly confident. Relief flooded through him as Zoya, disappoint evident on her face, affirmed he was correct. Glad the ordeal was over the tension visibly relaxed from Michael's body as he announced, "I think I will take my winnings and quit now." A disappointed sigh ran through the audience though the expression on Allison's face was inscrutable. Zoya, however, was not about to give up so easily. Running her hands down Michael's chest and down to grab Michael's penis she asked, "Are you sure?" Michael paused lost for words while his brain was overwhelmed by Zoya's skilled manipulation. That pause gave Zoya the opening she needed. Kneeling back on her things Zoya reached behind her back unsnapping her bra. Moving her hands around front to cup her breasts she looked Michael in the eye and commented, "Remember, money isn't the only thing you can win." Michael opened his mouth as if to respond but he found himself speechless as he watched Zoya move her hands away from her breasts to rest on either side of his hips, incidentally revealing her large, firm, TV star quality breasts. Keeping her gaze locked with Michael's Zoya ever so slowly brought her head down opening her mouth to take Michael's penis. As Zoya slid down Michael's shaft he dropped his head back moaning in pleasure. Suddenly, Zoya pulled her head back from Michael's cock. Getting up on her knees she planted a deep kiss on Michael's mouth before whispering in his ear, "Answer the next question, right or wrong and I will suck your dick dry." Tempted beyond human endurance Michael finally relented, "Alight, I'll take the last question." Zoya didn't want to give Michael any chance to back out, after all she didn't want to miss out on her 10th question bonus or the chance to make this attractive young man get off on his wife being cluster fucked. Before Michael could say anything else Zoya asked, "Name the first human into space." Michael's stricken expression made it clear he didn't know the answer. Clearly guessing he answered, "Alan Shepard." For a second everything in the studio was quite, while the audience waited breathlessly for a response and Zoya listened to the judges on her earpiece. Still silent Zoya ran her finger tip over Michael's shaft. Wrapping her fingers around Michael's cock one at a time Zoya announced, "I'm sorry, the correct answer is "Yuri Gagarin." Continuing to manipulate Michael's cock Zoya ordered, "Tell me what is happening to your wife." Michael responded with a confused "What?" Firmly grasping his cock Zoya sternly responded, "You got the last question wrong now you do what I say. I'll give you head but your going to tell me exactly how your wife is getting fucked while I do it." Cowed by Zoya's suddenly firm tone Michael began shakily, "Allison is hanging naked from four chains with her legs spread apart. One of those guys is standing between her legs." Michael suppressed a moan as Zoya's tongue ran over his shaft but managed to continue his description, "The guy between her legs is unlacing his pants and pulling out his dick. Allison is trying to look back over her shoulder to see what is going to fuck her and the guy between her legs is now grabbing her waist to stop her from twisting away." Zoya's mouth was now wrapped around Michael's cock and he struggled to continue speaking as she bobbed up and down, "Jesus Christ, now the guy behind her is pulling her back onto his dick. Allison is trying to twist away but he has a good grip on her hips and she can't stop herself from sliding down his cock." By now any hint of trepidation was gone from Michael's voice replaced with pure animal lust, "Now he is fucking her, using his arms to make her bounce up and down on his dick. "Pulling her flushed face up from Michael's cock Zoya asked, "Does your wife like it?" Michael struggled to speak as Zoya dove down on his dick once again but finally managed to get out a description, "Ohh god yes. Every time that dick plunges into her Allison can't help but moaning. She doesn't want to be fucked on TV by a stranger but she can't help but enjoy it. Ohh god," Michael continued clearly overwhelmed by sexual stimulation, "The dominatrix is whipping Allison's back. She wants Allison to beg for cock to suck. She is going to have to suck another guy off while they continue to fuck her. My God," Michael continued his dick bucking in Zoya's mouth, "Allison is begging to suck cock." Not able to stand it anymore Michael shot his hot cum into Zoya's mouth while his head fell back in ecstasy. After licking Michael's cock clean Zoya pulled her self back up on the couch next to him to enjoy the show. Watching Allison getting pulled back and forth between the cock in her pussy and the one in her mouth Zoya began toying absently with Michael's dick. Clearly excited herself Zoya squirmed against Michael on the couch whispering hotly in his ear, "It's so hot seeing your wife get fucked like this isn't it. It's turning me on so much I just need dick." Even just having cum Michael's penis started hardening again. Her fingers gently tugging Michael's semi-erect member Zoya continued her erotic talk, "I just love seeing girl's penetrated, especially when they can't do anything to stop themselves from being violated." As if suddenly realizing something Zoya asked, "Has your wife ever taken it up the ass?" "No, never," Michael responded with a skeptical tone in his voice but his now nearly turgid penis told a different story. "It would be so hot to see your wife take it in the ass," Zoya continued her commentary, "so hot I would let you fuck me while we watched." Now Michael's penis was back to rock hard causing Zoya to smile slightly. Slipping off the couch once more Zoya got down on her hands and knees in front of Michael, turning around to give him a come hither look. Unable to pass on a hot women waiting for him on her hands and knees Michael too slid off the couch coming to kneel right behind Zoya. His hands shacking with lust Michael reached out to undo Zoya's tight skirt, leaving her on her hands and knees in just a thong. Zoya moaned as Michael leaned forward to cup her breasts and wiggled herself suggestively against his once again hard cock. Running his hands down Zoya's body Michael hooked his fingers in her thong sliding it easily off Zoya's hips. Looking up from his preoccupation Michael suddenly realized the attention of the room was on him. Allison still hung suspended from he! r bonds, the first two men having finished up with her. Another man stood ready behind her, his hard dick resting between Allison's tight buttocks but making no move to act. Finally, Mistress Dena broke the silence speaking to Michael, "So should we make your wife take it up the ass?" Allison blurted out, "Michael..." but her sentence was cut off by a harsh crack from Mistress Dena's whip. Instead Mistress Dena simply looked at Michael and said, "It's your decision." Rubbing her self against Michael's engorged penis and looking back over her shoulder, Zoya begged, "Please, I want to see her take it hard while you fuck me." Unable to stand it anymore Michael relented, "Yes, fuck her ass." Moaning in anticipation Zoya reached back between her legs guiding Michael into her pussy. Grabbing Zoya's hips Michael began thrusting himself into her as he watched his wife's face contort, first in pain and surprise then in pleasure, as the man's dick slowly slid between her buttocks. Staring at his wife getting fucked Michael found himself muttering, "Ohh god give it to her hard," as he continued to pump into Zoya. ---- Story by Quale. logicnazi (at) gmail.com I like to hear from readers so don't be shy. Thanks also go to KB for editing this story Editing help or suggestions appreciated. If you want to write another 'episode' of 'You bet your wife' feel free but I would appreciate a credit if you base it off my version and an email so I can keep track of these stories. I figure this show is the 'pilot' and when I get around to writing new versions there will be a temptation specifically tailored to the man in question (asian school girls, twins etc..) Also if any girls in the bay area are interested in a 25 year old grad student who likes sharing stories hit me up ;-) (alright that would be a little weird but hey can't blame someone for trying).

Is Turnabout Fair Play? Part 3 By The Courageous Pedagogue (C) 2003 The Courageous Pedagogue. Part 3 - 2-1 To The Girls. At the end of the previous chapter, Michael Saunders of year 9 had experienced the most humiliating bare bottomed punishment at the hands of Miss Edgington. He had been spanked by the PE Mistress in front of the gym club, and been exposed to all of those female eyes and in particular, those of Laura Smith, Linda Stuart and Lisa Davies - his tormentors. All three of them had tricked him, and fondled him and gotten him the worst spanking he had ever had, a spanking that he did not deserve in reality. And so, Michael sat in my lounge with his head in his hands. --- "Michael? You okay?" I asked gently sitting up in my seat, aware of his predicament and concerned at his silence. Michael's head rose and he stared at me forlornly, tears running down his cheeks. "What am I going to do David?" he asked of me sullenly. "Okay, look. Speaking both as your neighbour and your teacher, I obviously can't get involved... but I can help you, you know, give you advice. Hopefully it is good advice. I must admit I have never come across anything like this before," I stated truthfully. "So what happened next?" Michael wiped the tears from his cheeks with his arms and sat back into the chair and continued... --- Despite the pep talk he had been given by Mrs Edgington after the gym club fiasco, Michael still came in for some stick at school on the Friday. On just about every corner of the school that Michael ventured round that day, there seemed to be a giggling girl that had been at the gym club. Even those girls that had not been at the club all seemed to be smiling wickedly at him and down at his crotch, as if undressing him with their eyes. To get away from it all, Michael sat on his own at lunchtime, even away from his friends Wayne and Mark. He was very pensive as he tucked in to his ham and mustard sandwiches. He really was unsure of what to do. He didn't fancy confiding in his friends, caught in the corridor of indecision between whether or not they would be supportive or mocking. He didn't even know whether it would be best for him to just lie low and out of the way of the three girls that were hell bent on seeing him suffer. He was awakened from his thoughts by a friendly voice over his shoulder, "May I join you Michael?" It was the voice of Scott Tinsley. He stood there with his sandwich box clasped between his hands. Michael nodded approval and Scott sat opposite him at the table. "I'm afraid I'm not much company today Scott. I feel really low," Michael began as Scott opened his sandwich box. "I can imagine. It was awful... I wish I could have done something to stop it getting out of hand like it did. Those girls stitched you up," Scott explained. Michael listened appreciatively as Scott continued. "They ganged up on you and you ended up with a spanking, a bare bottomed one too. I have seen girls at the gym club spanked, but never on the bare. It was so unfair!" Scott ranted as he furiously bit into his 'granny smith' apple. "Uh huh!" Michael agreed. "I don't know what was worse, having all of those girls looking at my willy, or Laura, Lisa and Linda all fondling me. I guess everyone else missed that as they had all left the gym." Scott's jaw dropped in disbelief. "Yep, they felt me up as I was standing against the wall. It was so humiliating." "I can imagine," Scott replied. "Despite that, it felt good... you know, down there," Michael said and explained to Scott what he did when he got home. "Well, I got walked home by a couple of my sister's friends who are in the club. They kept whispering about what had happened to you and giggled about what they had seen. I got kind of embarrassed to hear girls talking that way. It made me feel bad to be a boy! It was almost as if I didn't exist. Bitches!" Scott said. "I hope you weren't talking about us, little boy!" a voice said from behind Scott. It was Laura Smith. Michael hadn't seen the trio approach, such was his interest in what Scott had to say about the previous day's events. Michael shrunk down in his chair and Scott whipped his head round to see who was talking. "N, noo, I wasn't talking about you, honest," Scott whimpered, turning hastily back to his apple. Without a care, Linda, Laura and Lisa sat down at the table. The tables in the dining hall were made for 6, with 3 spaces each side. Michael and Scott sat opposite each other at one end. Lisa sat down next to Michael, Laura sat next to Lisa and Linda sat down next to Scott. "Hello Brains! You don't mind if we join you do you?" Lisa said and plumped herself down wiggling her bottom on the seat. "Noooo, no, I don't mind," Michael replied, daring not to say otherwise. A pang of embarrassment washed through him and visibly manifested itself as a blush. The girls were quick to pick up on this. "Awww, are we making you feel uncomfortable Mikey?" Linda said, leaning across the table and trying to look smugly into his eyes. "I am surprised you can sit down today after yesterday's revelations," Lisa whispered into his ear and running her right hand along Michael's left thigh. "Are you nervous?" "Shhh! Leave me alone, please." Michael quickly moved his hands under the table and attempted to shoe Lisa's advancing hand away. He felt a familiar stirring in his pants, but was desperate not to let these girls know what he was feeling. "Stop that..." "You put on a real nice show yesterday Michael, we loved your little dickie," Lisa continued, easily avoiding Michael's hand under the table and brushing desperately close to his groin. "But we are not done yet!" As Lisa said that, her hand found it's way onto the rising bulge between his legs and she delicately squeezed the hardening mass. "Mmmm, anyone would think that you like this Mikey," Lisa teased and all three girls giggled. As Lisa continued to fondle Michael under the table, Linda spoke, "The boot is on the other foot now isn't it?" "Wh, what do you want? Why can't you just leave me alone? You had your revenge!" Michael responded, squirming uncomfortably on his seat. "That wasn't revenge, ha! Oh no, that was just an unexpected bonus. We won't rest until we have seen you beaten... in more ways than one, ha!" Linda said smugly before setting back into her seat. Michael looked down forlornly at his food, now losing his appetite. Lisa continued to rub her hand all over the area between his legs. "Meet us in the gym store room after school today, and make sure you are alone. Don't need your little ally, he'll mind his own business if he knows what's good for him!" Laura said as Linda reached under the table and gave Scott a fondled 'warning' between his legs. He was unprepared for this and he jumped out of his seat, picked up his lunch and quickly dashed out of the dining room. "Sweet little boy!" Laura said and all three girls laughed quietly and left. Michael was alone once more. He couldn't face the remainder of his lunch as he reassessed his predicament and contemplated what awaited him this afternoon. This time he would be completely on his own, young Scott had been well and truly scared off. There wouldn't even be a teacher around to keep the girls in check. This was not good. --- That afternoon, Michael had a double lesson of art with Mrs Garrod. Lisa Davies was also in this class and she kept grinning at him from the other side of the room. Today the pupils were asked to draw an inanimate object that had been brought from home. "I want you to draw it in pencil, and use shading to emphasise differences in colouring and appearance of shadow," Mrs Garrod explained. "I want it to be complete by the end of the day, so I am not expecting a masterpiece!" The children bustled loudly as they each got out their inanimate objects. Michael had brought a ping-pong paddle to draw, which had a smooth blue side and a pimpled red side. He laid it down, using a pencil eraser to prop the paddle up to an interesting angle. Michael also had a ping-pong ball and placed this nearby to create a depth of field and perspective. Before commencing his drawing, Michael looked over curiously to the other side of the room to see what Lisa was going to draw. Despite being in fear of this girl and her cronies, he did have that fanciful crush on her and really did want to be her boyfriend. What he saw did not register with him, such was his eagerness to get on with his art. Lisa was drawing a camera, a digital camera. She had mentioned in morning registration once that she had been given a new camera for her birthday, and here it was. Although Michael managed to complete his drawing before the end of the day, it was a struggle to keep his mind on his work. At the back of his mind, he wondered what the girls were going to have in store for him. --- Michael did not go straight to the gym store room after the final bell of the day, instead he went to his locker to retrieve a couple of books that he would need for his homework over the weekend. Taking a deep breath, Michael proceeded towards the storeroom. Gingerly, Michael opened the door to the gym and cautiously stepped inside. There was eerie silence as he delicately (almost tiptoed) across the gym towards the storeroom. Were the girls there? "Hello?" Michael whispered through the curtain. There was no answer and he silently moved behind the curtain and into the dimly lit storeroom. The storeroom was pretty dark and only a small amount of light was let in through a single small 'skylight' window in the ceiling. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows in the storeroom, with the dust visibly floating in the shaft of light beaming through the small window. Around him, there were shapes of gym equipment. Folded up table tennis tables and vaulting horses littered the room, along with racks of volley balls, basket balls and all the usual gym paraphernalia. "Hello?" Michael again whispered, convinced that nobody else was in the room. "Are you there? Lisa? Come on, if you're there, come out!" Michael began to lose patience, convinced that this was just another wind up. Michael turned to leave, but just before he reached the curtain, a feminine hand covered his mouth and an arm was put around his waist. He was being bundled form behind. "Mmmmmphh, mmmph! Unngghh!!" Michael struggled to speak as the hand rendered him dumb. He felt that he was being dragged around the storeroom and after dropping his bag to the floor, suddenly felt a softer surface beneath his feet. He was on a gym mat. The other person spun him around and faced him, it was Lisa Davies. She relinquished her grip on the boy. Too shocked to run, Michael listened as she began, "You made it then, finally!" "W, what do you want?" Michael stammered. "Please don't hurt me, I think I have suffered enough." "Do you now? I think otherwise," Lisa responded, her eyebrows raised and arms folded across her chest in a pose of defiance. She looked very forceful in her knee length white socks and short blue pleated school skirt. Her white shirt looked grey in the darkness and her school tie was being worn very short. This girl meant business. "Please, stop doing this. You have seen me spanked, and you have seen me humiliated. What else could you possibly want?" Michael whimpered, keen to see an end to this battle. "Oh stop whimpering like a little boy. Sure, we had our little show and got to see you spanked and everything else, but we want some fun with you. After all, you are quite sweet," Lisa said. Michael thought she was mocking him again and blushed as he looked up at the skylight. "Tell me what you want!" he was becoming anxious. "I want to spank you myself. I want to make you sorry, and so I want to spank you. We all want to spank you, little boy... don't we girls!" Lisa said, and from behind Michael, two girls began to giggle. It was the unmistakable cackle of Linda Stuart and Laura Smith. Michael looked round and saw them smiling gleefully at him. Swallowing hard and taking a deep breath, Michael could feel the fear rising within him, his face became all hot and his heart began to race. "Okay, spank me then. Do it now, here. Just get it over with..." Michael said quietly now beginning to bite his lower lip. "Oh, that would be too easy. Like I said, we want to have some fun with you... and your little dickie," Lisa remarked, taking a step closer to Michael on the mat. "W, w, wh, what?" Michael stammered in disbelief. "You can't do that!" "Oh yes we can... find it Linda," Lisa said and Linda began to fumble in Michael's bag. Michael turned round to see what Linda was after and it soon became clear. "Got it!" Linda claimed triumphantly as she held aloft Michael's table tennis (ping-pong) paddle. "Okay!" Lisa said, attracting Michael's attention once again. "Now I... errrm, we want you to take off your clothes and be a good boy." Michael's eyes nearly shot out of their sockets. The girls wanted him to strip. "No way. I'm not doing that. If you're gonna do anything, it will be with my clothes on," Michael said defiantly. "Come on Michael!" Michael looked round again. It was Laura stepping into the meagre light. "If you co-operate and be a good little boy, we will make it as painless as we can." The boy looked in disbelief at Laura. He knew better than to trust her, or any of the three girls present after what had happened yesterday. Michael noticed that Laura had Lisa's digital camera around her neck. This was beginning to look very grim. In a fit of panic, Michael said, "Fuck this..." and bolted to leave through the curtain. "Get him girls!" Lisa said motioning for Linda and Laura to prevent his escape. They needed no encouragement and were already well placed to push him back into the centre of the mat. In the melee, one of the girls had pushed the switch that turned the lights on in the storeroom. The girls surrounded him and despite his struggles to break through them, they held together firmly. It looked as though there was no escape. "Please let me go... you can't do this," Michael pleaded. "Oh we can do this Mikey, and we will," Lisa said, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Now we can do this our way, or we can do it... our way <giggle>. Are you gonna strip, or are we gonna do it for you?" The other two girls laughed at this distinct lack of options. With one last push for freedom, Michael bundled into Linda and Laura and almost made it through. But together, they just 'girl handled' him back into the centre of the mat. He felt very embarrassed that he couldn't break out of this situation. From their regular sessions at the gym, they had all become quite strong. Losing patience, Lisa began the assault on Michael. She grabbed him around the waist and he responded by grabbing her back. As the other two girls quietly cheered their friend on, Lisa and Michael continued to tussle. Michael began to get some familiar sensations in between his legs as he grappled with the girl. This was a different challenge. Being so close to Lisa as she grappled with him for physical supremacy, he could smell her perfume on her neck and down into her cleavage. It was a distinctive vanilla aroma, one he had smelled before on other girls that he had sat next to in class. Such was the strength of the attacking girl, Michael just wanted to keep his head above water. However, Lisa was more determined and used her left leg to lock behind Michael's right leg and tripped him to the floor. "Yeah! Get him Lisa, show him who's boss!" Laura shouted smugly at this show of girl power. Michael was beginning to lose this battle and before he could curl into the protective ball that he longed for, Lisa was sat astride his stomach, with her hands holding his wrists down - a textbook schoolgirl pin. Lisa looked down into Michael's watering eyes. Michael was tearful because he had effectively lost a fight to a girl and she was pinning him to the mat. He did not know why his genitals tingled so and why he was displaying a large tent in his trousers. "I bet you've never been beaten like that before have you, boy?" Lisa mocked, licking her lips. Michael did not respond, but instead blinked his eyes to try and spirit his tears away. He was blushing. "You were so easy! Looks like I am the better wrestler doesn't it?" Michael tried to buck Lisa off his stomach, but she was firmly planted there, and Michael could feel the heat between her legs conducting through his jumper. "Linda, stop his kicking will you, he is starting to piss me off!" Lisa ordered. Quickly, Linda used her hands to hold Michael's ankles still, rendering him just about powerless. "Now you just hold still Mikey. We gave you a chance to take your clothes off, now we're gonna do it for you," Lisa said. "Are you going to keep still for us? If you don't, you will be very sorry!" Michael nodded, aware that he had been well beaten and was determined to tough this out. After all, they had already seen him without his shorts and pants before. "Good Boy!" Lisa mocked. Linda held his ankles fast as Lisa released the pressure on Michael's stomach. She moved so that she was kneeling 'above' his head but maintained a strong grip on his wrists. Michael looked up at her and saw her face leaning over him, upside down. Her eyes followed his body and spied the tent that had formed in his trousers. "Oooh, girls, I think Mikey junior has popped up to say hello!" Lisa said, gesturing with her head to his groin. "I think we will start with this jumper, I am sure Mikey will want to cool down after our wrestle." Laura was the recipient of this comment and quickly set about pulling Michael's jumper up so that it bunched at his head. "I think you had better sit on his stomach so that he doesn't try and move when we take his jumper off Laura." "Okay!" Laura replied and promptly sat astride Michael's stomach. He now had no less than three girls holding him down. He knew now that resisting was useless and did not try to struggle when Lisa let go of his wrists to pull his jumper free. "Linda, I think now would be a good time to get the first photograph don't you?" Lisa said. "Michael, being restrained and stripped..." Linda giggled and quickly let go of Michael's ankles to take the first picture. The picture showed Michael on the mat, tears in his eyes with Laura sitting on his stomach and Lisa holding his jumper aloft and holding one of his wrists to the mat. Next, Laura tampered with Michael's tie, fumbling at the collar to unfasten it. With ease, she held it aloft as Linda snapped another picture, before discarding the tie onto the jumper. Laura then wiggled her bottom on the prone boy's chest and leaned down to look closely at his face. When she saw that he had tears in his eyes (tears of fear and humiliation) she leaned in as if to give him a kiss. At the last minute, she withdrew and looked again to Michael's lips eagerly awaiting. Laura just chuckled. "You should be so lucky!" Laura said. With Lisa now regaining control of Michael's wrists, Laura slowly began to unbutton his shirt. "Please Laura, don't do anymore. Please... don't strip me. I'll take my clothes off for you, but this is so humiliating, please don't..." Michael pleaded. The girls had made up their mind and were clearly getting off on their power. As Laura's determined little hands proceeded to move their way down Michael's shirt buttons, so her bottom moved down his stomach and onto his groin. She could clearly feel his erection tenting through his trousers. "Oooh, Mikey! You have a present for us in there I think!" Laura mocked as her thighs attempted to squeeze the bulge between them. She was able to finish unbuttoning his shirt and deftly ran her hands over his naked stomach and up to his chest. Michael began to feel quite ticklish as Laura used her girlish fingers to explore his nipples and his ticklish spots. Michael began to giggle. "Oooh, we've got a ticklish one here girls," Lisa said as Linda snapped another picture on the camera. The picture made it look like Laura was making love to Michael, against his will. The girls managed to free Michael of his shirt without him making much fuss; he was almost resigned to his fate. With Michael now completely topless, both Laura and Lisa began to run their hands over him. He continued to giggle, as their touches were very light and feminine. Lisa then took hold of his wrists just to be safe and Laura climbed off from Michael's groin. The tent was still very visible poking upwards in his trousers. "Okay Laura, unfasten his belt!" Lisa said with an encouraging smile to her willing friend. Michael began to protest again as she fumbled for his belt buckle, "Noooo, please. Please don't strip me any more. I am begging you." Fresh blushes spread across his face and tears welled up in his eyes again, but still his erection would not subside. Laura began to fondle his hidden cock through his trousers and squeezed gently as he continued to protest. Linda was becoming anxious that Michael might give the whole game away with his pleadings, she told him to be quiet and to, "Take it like a man..." She then repossessed Michael's tie and threatened to use it as a makeshift gag. He quietened down obediently and just sobbed quietly. "Good boy," Lisa praised. Laura then recommenced her fumbling at Michael's belt buckle and succeeded in unfastening it. It was nothing fancy, just a plain brown fake leather belt. Laura deftly unbuttoned his trousers and lowered the zip, being careful to bump into his 'tent' several times as she did so. "Mmmmhh, please stop! This isn't right," Michael sobbed. "Okay Mikey, lift up so we can get these off ya!" Laura said smiling as someone on the verge of victory does. Michael looked into her eyes hoping for salvation and humility, but found none. He did not raise his bottom in the air to allow the girls to remove his trousers. Instead, Linda and Laura both tickled his sides until he was bucking like a startled horse, his movements allowing Laura to get a good grip at the waist of his trousers. She quickly got them down to his knees and once the tickling had stopped, Michael settled back down and remained compliant, at least for the time being. The girls had been quick to get Michael's trousers this far, but had forgotten his shoes. Linda was quick to take a photograph of the stricken boy, with Lisa holding his wrists and Laura at his trousers, which were down at his knees. Linda then unfastened his shoes and removed them whilst Laura held his ankles to prevent any kicking. Michael was now left being held down by two girls as a third looked on with a camera, wearing nothing but his fortunately clean light blue briefs and his grey socks. The girls giggled and pointed when they noticed that his erection was straining to break through the briefs. Linda snapped a close up of that hidden treasure rudely trying to expose itself. "Now then.... slave-boy, are you going to submit to a spanking, or do we have to remove your pants and spank you anyway?" Lisa asked, moving up close to Michael's face. It was then that he could smell her perfume again. He so much wanted to be her boyfriend. "I, I'll take a spanking, please don't pull my pants down again. Just spank me and let me go," he begged. With those words, the girls let his wrists and ankles go and he was free to get up, the girls keeping his trousers and shirt well away from him. "That's better. All you have to do is co-operate and things will go fine." Lisa ushered him over to the low, small sized vaulting horse and gestured for him to bend over it. "Good boy... Now then, we have to make sure that you behave during your punishment don't we?" Lisa asked. "Uh-huh," Michael responded meekly. What he didn't see behind him was that Linda and Laura were removing their school ties. Lisa moved in behind Michael and 'buffered' up to his bottom, rubbing her crotch against him. Michael moaned lightly as he felt her power. She placed her hands on Michael's shoulders and gently but firmly held him down. Before Michael was aware of what was happening, Linda and Laura had secured his hands to the tops of the vault legs with their ties, and Michael became scared and anxious. "Noooo, don't tie me down, you could do anything... you could leave me here for god knows who to find me... please don't... l, let me goooo, please..." he begged. Linda stood up in front of the bent over boy and placed her finger to his lips, "Ssshhhh little boy! You might enjoy this as much as we do..." With that, she grinned wickedly at him. Behind him, he sensed that one of the girls had taken another picture of him, bent over and secured to the vault. He then felt small girlish fingers running along the rim of his briefs. He clenched his bottom cheeks together in fear and anticipation of the finger's invasion. "I thought you were going to let me keep my pants up?" Michael whimpered, fresh tears of shame stinging his face. "And I thought that you were gullible... and I was right!" Laura said. "No, no, it's pants down for you Mikey..." The voice behind him was that of Laura. Once again, she was threatening to pull his pants down for the other two girls assembled to see. "Here they go..." "Noooooo!" Michael protested as he felt Laura's fingers pull at the top of his briefs. There was no teacher to monitor this practice this time and he himself was powerless to stop her in that position. He closed his eyes and thought of a thousand other things as he felt the cotton briefs gently yet purposefully clear the back of his bottom and down his knees and resting at his ankles. Michael whimpered as the three girls revelled at his exposure once again. Then, the only sound was that of a picture being taken. "Awww, does Mikey want to cry?" Laura said, running her warm little hand over his backside. "You will cry soon, I guarantee it! Move those legs apart." Michael complied, and after stepping out of his briefs, moved his feet about two feet apart. The girls, now all assembled behind him were able to see not only his exposed bottom, but by their giggles, his hanging testicles and penis no doubt, as he was bent over. The girls quickly decided on a batting order of Linda first, Laura second and Lisa batting third. Their plan was to spank Michael into telling truths. Linda picked the ping-pong paddle from the adjacent gym mat and took aim with the pimpled side. "I am going to enjoy this as much, if not more than yesterday... Brains!" Linda said, annoyingly using his nickname again. "I want you to count out the strokes as they land..." With that, she brought the bat firmly down on his backside, SMACK! "Aiiiihhh! One..." Michael said, his left bottom cheek stinging like a doctors needle. "One what?" Linda said, leaning in and whispering in his ear. "One... Miss?" "Good boy! Now keep that up!" Linda encouraged as her second stroke hit, SMACK! "Ahhhh! Two Miss," Michael wailed. Linda and the other girls were in delight as they had their very own boy to spank as they wished. Their fun was just beginning. Linda delivered two more strokes and then posed a question to Michael, "Who's the best vaulter?" Linda whispered to him, running her hand up the inside of his thighs and cupping his balls. Michael did not want to answer, but Linda squeezed his balls tightly in her hand, "who's the best vaulter?" "Ahhhhoowww! You are... you are the best vaulter," Michael whined. Linda loosened her grip, but before withdrawing her hand, played lightly with the shaft of his penis, running her fingertip over the top and around his foreskin. "Good boy Michael... you know that girls are the better sex! Mmmmm, you do. Lisa, he is still firm. I think he is enjoying this as much as us," Linda remarked. Laura and Lisa giggled and moved into positions more appropriate for viewing his secret parts, and Linda took aim again. SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! The spanks continued to rain and Michael continued to count them out. His bottom felt as though it was on fire and he guessed that it was now displaying a medium rare pink colour. Linda was done. Next into bat was Laura, the pretty girl with the really bad attitude, so Michael thought. She took aim with the pimpled side of the bat as she rubbed his pink cheeks. SMACK! This was the hardest spank yet, and it echoed around the racks of sports balls and equipment like a shout in a cave. It was a firm strike to his left cheek. "Ahhhh! Owwww! One...Miss," Michael began to count again as the second assault on his bottom began. SMACK! Another blow to his right cheek. "Owwww! Two...Miss," Michael whimpered again. "It is much better to do it myself than watching Edgington do it, eh girls?" Laura chuckled to herself, brimming with confidence and pride at seeing this boy tortured and humiliated so. Laura then ran her hand up Michael's left inner thigh and cupped his balls, gently at first. "Who is the better wrestler? Who is stronger than you... boy?" Linda asked, squeezing harder now on his exposed testicles. As she squeezed, Lisa this time took a photograph. What would the girls do with those? "Owwww, you're hurting me... stop that..." Michael whined. "Tell us, who is stronger? Who beat you today?" Laura continued. "Lisa... Lisa beat me, she is stronger than me." "Good boy! You are a star, Michael," Laura praised, before releasing her grip on his testicles and taking aim again. She tickled her fingertips over the tightening skin of his scrotum, an action that made Michael's bottom wiggle in protest. "Yes, some girls are very strong - stronger than boys..." SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Three more quick fire spanks with the paddle were swiftly landed onto the poor boy's inflamed backside and were counted out. Tears of shame and pain rolled down his cheeks, drying slowly as the heat in his blushing face took its effect. He tried to move free, but he was securely fastened by the girl's ties. Lisa then took hold of the ping-pong paddle. She walked to the front of the vault and leaned in to whisper at Michael, "Now Brains... Our work is nearly done, just one more spanking for you to endure, and we might let you go," Lisa whispered. Michael sniffled grimly at his predicament. A plethora of "if onlys" spun through his mind. However, his constant level of sexual arousal betrayed his thoughts. Why was he feeling good things in his cock when his bottom burned and his feelings hurt so? As she stood in front of him, she moved her left hand under her skirt and obscenely ran her left hand through the folds of her pussy and offered her fingers to Michael's nose. Michael recognised that scent from the incident in Miss Greer's office. Lisa was aroused. She held her fingers under his nose as she continued, "Seeing you stripped and spanked has made me tingly. I can see that you are aroused also. I know I am going to enjoy spanking you Mikey..." With that, she returned to Michael's rear and took aim. Michael's bottom clenched with fear and anticipation of impending fire. SMACK! The first of Lisa's spanks exploded onto his right bottom cheek, "OOOWooowwww! Awww, one Miss!" Michael wailed. A second, third and fourth smack was similarly fierce and counted out accordingly by the stricken boy. "Awww, bless you Michael, we are nearly done. I want to know, who you fancy. Who turns you on most in year 9? Who do you want to date?" Lisa enquired, expecting the boy to break... To add effect, Laura took a photograph as Lisa frisked up his inner thighs, caressed his blazing backside, and down underneath to his testicles. This time however, Lisa did not stop at his balls, she continued her grope until she found her goal. She gripped his penis at the base and fondled up and down along the shaft, gently pulling the foreskin back and forth over the tip. "Please stop, Lisa, please... don't touch me there... please," Michael sobbed, but Lisa was relentless. "Tell me who you fancy, Michael. Who would you like to be your girlfriend? Tell me, or I'll make you come!" Lisa warned and increased the pace of her action slightly. Michael instinctively moved his legs together to try and stop Lisa from completing her masturbation. "Please... it's you Lisa. I want to be your boyfriend. Mmmmhh, please let me go! Mmmmh, Please, no more... It hurts so much. Please don't hit me any more... I'll do anything you want, just please don't spank me, please don't make me come..." Michael bawled, his head resting on the vault. He was beaten. "Mmmmm! You fancy me do you?" Lisa asked in disbelief, her hand leaving his penis alone. Her tone was one of flattered joy. The other two girls giggled and Laura said, "You got yourself an admirer - I knew he enjoyed being spanked in front of us yesterday. You could tell by his erection..." "Ssshhhh Laura," Lisa admonished. "He is beaten. We've won! He said he will do anything. Do you know what this means?" Laura and Linda were silent. "It means we have got ourselves a little slave boy." The other girl's began to giggle and Lisa continued, "Michael Saunders wants to be my boyfriend and said he will do anything for me... for us! Well, I'm not looking for a boyfriend at the moment, at least not you," she said in Michael's ear. The girls retreated and huddled together for what seemed like an hour in Michael's mind. "We have decided that if you do as we say, and by that I mean Laura, Linda and I, between now and when school re- starts in August, we will forget our differences. If you do well, I might consider you as a potential, and only potential boyfriend. Do we have a deal?" Lisa asked. "What will I have to do?" Michael sniffled solemnly, realising that between now and the end of the summer holiday was a bloody long time... "Well, you will just have to do as we say, nothing nasty... at least not too nasty," Lisa said. "What if I say no?" Michael asked a fair question, but really should have shown more sense. Never cross a girl when she is firmly in control of all the cards. "You are in no position to say no..." Lisa said, appearing in front of Michael with the digital camera, with a picture of Lisa spanking his bottom, and him bent over a vaulting horse! "These pictures will be shown all round the school, to girls and boys if you don't comply." Michael was left in no doubt who was in charge. "Okay... I'll do it. But I won't do anything nasty, I'm not eating slugs or anything like that..." Michael protested. "We'll see that nothing BAD will happen to you," Lisa said. Laura and Linda began to retrieve their ties from the legs of the vaulting horse and let Michael free. As he stood up, he modestly tried to cover his privates from the view of the girls, but seeing them shake their head and giggle realised that there was nothing that they hadn't seen before. The fires in his bottom then reminded him of what had just happened. Now his hands were rubbing his bottom cheeks, surely aglow and well done. Before giving Michael his trousers back, Linda mocked, "I am better at vaulting, Lisa is stronger than you and together we are cleverer than you <giggle> I love it when girls can demonstrate how good they are!" Devious maybe, but more clever? That would be a battle for another day. Lisa went up to Michael and offered him his briefs. She put both her arms around him and pressed herself into him, feeling his still stiff penis against her crotch. She kissed him sweetly on the cheek and said, "We are gonna have some fun Mikey... you're mine!" With that, Lisa put one of her fingers into his mouth, one that had been in her pussy. Michael closed his eyes and as quickly as it had all began, he was then alone to get dressed again. That night, at home, Michael had a cool shower to soothe his bottom. At least he had the weekend to get over this assault. Images from that afternoon and from the day before replayed over and over in his mind. He had been caught and beaten. He played with himself to several mind shattering climaxes in the shower as he attempted to make sense of and resolve these still 'unusual' feelings. At least the girls didn't make him come. That would have been bad! As long as his humiliation stayed between him and the three girls, it wouldn't be so bad, would it? Michael and the girls will return in part 4, Michael Learns His Place. (C) 2003 The Courageous Pedagogue. http://www.asstr.org/~The_Weltby_Fantasies/ [email protected]

Pink (m/f inc slow) By Pauley I had been out with some friends that afternoon, and was felling pretty good when I got home. We had played a couple of games of pick-up soccer in the park and had done quite well. As the summer went on we were getting quite good; not surprising, the amount of time we spent playing. As I walked up to the door I could hear that there was some kind of commotion going on inside. I thought that maybe it was about me; I was a little late for dinner and sometimes my Mom got upset if we weren't all ready to eat at the exact moment that she wanted to serve the food. I opened the door slowly and quietly hoping that I might be able to sneak in without anyone noticing. As it turned out it didn't matter. No one was paying any attention to my entry. My parents were standing in the living room shouting at my older sister. There were several things that were a little shocking about the scene: one is that my parents rarely got mad enough to shout; another is that my Dad, who is rarely very aggressive, was standing pointing down at Alison, my sister, with a very aggressive motion in a very aggressive stance; my Mom looked like she was close to tears with the whole scene; Alison was shrinking back from Dad's onslaught and was openly crying; and last but no where near least was that Alison had very pink hair. This last thing might have caught my eye last, but was really the most important thing going on in the room. It was obviously what the whole affair was about. Dad was shouting something about being a whore (Alison was the last thing from a whore, what was he thinking?), Mom was looking quite obviously at Alison's hair and making a slight moaning noise and Alie was sobbing. "Get to your room! Your grounded!" my Dad shouted. Alie took this opportunity to extricate herself from the situation and ran down the hall, slamming her door after her. I was in shock, as probably were my parents. The pink hair was rather unlike anything that Alie had done before. I knew that my Mom had taken Alie to get a hair cut yesterday, and that Alie was upset with the style that Mom had forced on her. Alie had worn her hair rather long and straight for a number of years, but what she had come back from the salon with was quite short. At it's longest it went to about the middle of her neck and poofed out a bit toward the ends. I don't know the technical details, but it was quite a change. I thought it was kinda cute on her, and I think Mom was just trying to get Alie to wear her hair in a bit more of a mature style. They sometimes made comments about how she looked like a hippie, or a flower-child. Alie, though, loved her long hair and was distraught at what Mom had forced on her. "Hmph!" Dad said, turning and walking into the other room where I heard the TV come on. "I better get dinner on the table," Mom sniffled heading toward the kitchen, leaving me alone in the room. Dad wouldn't let me get Alie when we sat down at the dinner table, so I suffered through a quiet meal with my sullen parents. Mom let me take a plate of food in to Alie after we were done, though. She was lying on her bed, still sniffling. I put the plate down on her desk and sat beside her on the bed, sitting sideways, one hand lightly touching her side to show my support. "Can you believe the things he said to me?" she asked miserably. "He's just mad. You know how he likes everything to be just so. Any little variation from what he deems to be normal and he has trouble dealing with it. I'm sure he didn't really mean what he said," I told her seriously, bending down to give her a hug. Her arms came around me and clutched me tightly to her. I really meant it to be a short little hug, but she held me tightly not letting me go. I felt her shake lightly as she sobbed a few times. I felt so helpless, I didn't know what to do to make her feel better. We were very close, both in age and emotionally. We depended on each other a lot, and we spent quite a bit of time together. Both of our parents worked full time, but ever since we were young they expected us to come home right after school; no going to friends' houses, or having friends over. They were slackening off a little bit now that we were older, but it suddenly occurred to me that this incident might have pushed that back a little bit. We thought we were quite grown up, but since we were both still teenagers I don't think our parents thought so. I kept hugging her shoulders, telling her everything was going to be OK, her arms wrapped tightly around me. I turned my head and kissed the side of her head a few times, not knowing what else to do. I slowly became aware that my back was getting sore, bent over in the position I was in. I slowly rotated my hips so that I was lying on the bed, my legs beside hers, our torsos still clutched together. "Uncomfortable?" she muttered into my shoulder. "Much better now," I said into her hair, kissing her again. Her arms slackened on me and I rolled over her to lie on my side along her left side, one arm over her tummy. From where I was I got a good up-close view of her formerly dirty-blond hair, my hand coming up to touch it. The colour was actually a rather pale pink, but pink none the less. "I can't believe that witch made me get this hair cut," she said angrily, her body tensing beside me. "She didn't even ask me, just told the stylist what she wanted. I couldn't see what was going on, she had me facing away from the mirror, but I knew she was cutting a lot off. I just didn't realize she was cutting so much off! I look like a Pixie!" "I think it looks really cute," I said gently, hoping my tone of voice would calm her down a little. "It's definitely a big change from before, but I like it. Sometimes a change is good." My hand was stroking her hair now, my fingers running through it. I always liked it when people did that to me. My Mom used to do that, and called it a scalp massage. I thought the word 'scalp' was a stupid word, but the action felt really nice. She looked over at me with a distrusting cant to her mouth. "I do!" I insisted. "I like how it curls around on the ends like that. Your hair was so long before that it never got a chance to curl. Your hair has a whole new attitude now." "Ugh," she said with disgust, now a little calmer. "I hate it." "Well, the good thing is," I told her, "it'll keep growing and before you know it, it'll be as long as before again." "Yeah, in a couple of years!" she said, now much calmer than before, the hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. "I think the guys are gonna love it," I said genuinely "You think so?" her hand now going to her hair and feeling it's length. "Of course," I assured her. "I'm a guy, aren't I? I like it." She looked over at me again. "I guess you are a guy," she smiled and kissed me lightly on the nose. "Thanks for making me feel better." There was a pause, me now quite glad that I was able to calm her down and hoping that I might have given her a positive perspective on the issue that she could think about. "How did you do it?" I asked after a few minutes. "I was over at Katie's place and we were talking about makeup and stuff. You know, girl stuff. She said that since I already had a big look change I should keep going. She says since we're out for the summer now's a good time to do it. She said she's been thinking of changing her hair colour, and asked if I wanted to, too. I said I was a little scared, I already had a big change to deal with, but she finally convinced me saying that we would both do it. "She said the best way is to try it out is to use a temporary colour rather than a permanent one. We looked though her cupboards and found a couple of different flavours of Kool-Aid. She had a box of Black Cherry that she was planning to use, and I had orange, cherry and pink lemonade to choose from. I wasn't really sure about the others, but the pink lemonade looked like a nice soft colour, not too bright, and I thought I might look like Lady Gaga. So, that's what we did." I leaned in and inhaled deeply from Alie's hair. "Yummy." Katie was Alie's best friend. They had been inseparable since kindergarten always did everything together, so it didn't surprise me that they did this together, too. Katie was actually the first girl who really caught my eye. She had always been around, but when she was 12 she started growing hips and breasts. It took me a while to really notice that, me being a year and a half younger, but here was this girl who was always around who was suddenly a young woman, and quite a cute one, too. It was quite a shock to my system when this thought finally registered with me when I was 11 or so, and even though Katie and I always got along really well I think I went a week or so without saying a word to her. I found myself really shy and nervous every time she was around. Ever since then I've had a little crush on her but she doesn't know it. She was my first real-person masturbatory fantasy. Prior to thinking of her in that way it was always the women in my Dad's Playboys flitting across the insides of my eyelids while my hands were busy stroking my erect penis. I couldn't help, now, letting my mind wander, tying to imagine what Katie's brown hair would look like with Black Cherry in it. I imagined black with red highlights and it made me smile a little. Alie looked over at me, a smile growing on her face, too. "You're wondering how Katie looks with her new hair colour, aren't you?" she accused, poking me in the tummy with her finger. "Well, just for your information, she looks pretty cute. Not as cute as me, but almost," she winked at me giggling and poking me again. "She'll never be as cute as you," I said patronizingly. I did think Alie was really cute, and locked away way in the back of my mind where I never brought them out for scrutiny were the memories of glimpses of her in her bra and panties that I had been lucky enough to catch over the years since I'd been looking. I would never admit it aloud but she was another real-person guest in my masturbation fantasies. I'm not sure that there's anything that gets me going as quickly as the image of her pretty face perched atop her delicate shoulders; her soft breasts cradled in pink lace; her soft flat tummy; her cute little belly button; her hips pulling taut a pair of pink lace low-rise panties that the slope of her tummy disappeared under; the triangle of those panties leading down to the spot where her thighs didn't quite meet, where the material turned and headed out of sight, where the flatness and smoothness contrasted so sharply with my own equipment in that location, where just the faintest hint of her cleft could be detected, whether a slight indentation in the material as it followed her or a slight shadow through the lace I wasn't sure; her soft thighs; her cute knobby knees; her pretty, slightly pigeon-toed feet. But, as they say, I digress. "Oh, you lier," she said slapping me lightly on the tummy. "You love her and you know it. I've seen how you look at her, all googlie-eyed. You'd jump her bones if she gave you the slightest chance." "What?" I can't believe it. I thought it was my secret. "I would not! Well, maybe if she begged me." "Pthhh. You'd do it if she winked at you." It's always good to know when to give up on the ruse. "What can I say? I'm a guy. I'd do it with any girl who winked at me." Alie giggled, rolling toward me and poking me in the tummy again. She looked me right in the eye and gave me an exaggerated wink before breaking out in giggles again. I would have stuck my tongue out at her if we hadn't been almost nose-to-nose. Instead I thought I'd play along with her game and with exaggerated moves I pushed her over on her back, rolled on top of her and pressed my lips to hers. She paused for a second and kissed back before breaking out in giggles again and pushing me off her. "Get off me, Horny-boy," she giggled "Careful who you wink at, Girly," I laughed back at her. We laughed and rolled around on the bed for a few more minutes before we calmed down and relaxed again lying side by side. Alie looked over at me with a thoughtful look on her face, like she was trying to decide something. "You want to see something Mom and Dad don't know?" she asked me? "OK." She reached down and popped the button on her white denim shorts, following that by pushing down her zipper. The waistband of a pair of purple satin panties came into view, topped by a tiny bow of matching material. I swallowed hard, my mind trying it's hardest to memorize what she was showing me. She paused for a second after pulling the flaps of her shorts open, making me wonder why it would matter to our parents that she was wearing purple satin panties. I knew she had smaller ones, and sheerer ones, and Mom often did the wash. I didn't really spend much time thinking about that, though, rather enjoying the view down between her breasts, along her flat tummy and down to her cute little panties. Alie finally gave a little sigh and grabbing the waistband of her panties with the thumb and fore-finger of each hand she pulled it away from her body and down slightly. Into view came her pubic hair which I stared at for long seconds before it registered that this hair was coloured pink, too. "Oh my god, Alie! You coloured all your hair!" I swallowed hard again, a smile braking out on my face. I wanted to laugh with her about it, but even more I wanted to look there for as long as she would let me. Even more I wanted to get up on my knees and take a closer look, but I didn't think I had time for that, and I didn't want to scare her. She was taking a big step in showing me this, and I wanted to show her she could trust me. I hadn't seen Alie naked since we were little kids and would bathe together. She didn't look now anything like she looked back then, nor had I been very interested in how she looked. But I was now, and I didn't want to spoil any possibility of future opportunities. Her fingers suddenly let go of her panties, the waistband snapping back against her tummy, the sound snapping me out of my daze. I looked up into her face with a big smile and laughed. "Good job, Alie," I told her. She had a slightly worried look on her face, her bottom lip held between her teeth, but a smile broke out with my words and she giggled with me. "I thought you'd like that, Horny-boy." We giggled and rolled around some more, tickling each other. We hadn't had so much physical contact since we were kids and I think we both liked it. I felt really close to her, and I think she felt the same. We hugged a little between tickles, then ticked some more, squirming around on the bed. I noticed that Alie didn't make any move to do up her shorts and while she wiggled around they had come quite loose. At one point while I clutched her to me in a hug so that she couldn't tickle me I looked down her back and saw most of her cute little bum covered in just her purple panties. After a while we were just hugging on the bed, lying side by side, calming down from our physical play. I was trying not to press my pelvis against her, since I didn't really want her to know that I had a raging hard on. Finally I let her go and rolled onto my back. Alie propped her head up in her hand and looked over at me, her face flushed. I watched as her eyes moved down my body, coming to rest on the obvious bulge in my shorts. I was hoping that she wouldn't know what it was, but that seemed unlikely. I took the opportunity to let me eyes wander down her body, too. Her t-shirt was quite tight, especially after all her squirming around and her breasts (A-cup I knew from peeking in her drawers) were quite prominent, her nipples poking out the fabric. The bottom of her shirt had pulled up a little, and it seemed like a long ways down to the top of her panties, almost all of her tummy exposed and part of the slope of her pelvis. The waistband of her shorts was down to almost the bottom of her hips, showing all of her panties. I couldn't help but stare, but when I brought my eyes up to hers again she was looking into mine with a smile on her lips. "I might as well have taken them off," she said, biting her lower lip between her teeth and giving another slightly exaggerated wink. "I guess so," I said winking back at her, the dare in my tone. Still looking directly into my eyes Alie squirmed around a little, wiggling first her hips, then her legs, before finally swinging her top leg up toward us, flinging her shorts at me and hitting me in the head. "Hey!" I said, pulling the shorts away from my face and looking down to revel in Alie's panty-clad splendor. "You're right, that's much better," I said with a big smile. "Horny-boy!" Alie accused before swinging her legs off the bed and getting to her feet. "Now get out of here so I can have my dinner." She stood in front of me with her hip cocked to one side, one hand on her hip. It seemed to me that if she really wanted me to get up she would have moved out of the way more, but instead she stood there, displaying herself for me. Finally she turned on her heel and strode over to her desk where I had left her plate. Her hips seemed to swing a little more than usual as I admired her trim little bum moving under the material of her panties. I stood up, and before leaving, went to where she was sitting and leaned over, kissing her cheek. "Enjoy." As I was heading for the door I saw her shorts on the bed where I'd left them so I quickly picked them up and took them with me before she noticed. -- That night I was reading a book in bed before turning off the light. I was dressed in my normal night attire of just boxer shorts. I sometimes switched that up with briefs, but it was usually boxers these days. I found briefs to be much more comfortable to wear on a daily basis, sometimes I found the freedom that boxers afforded to be a bit distracting. At school the looseness of the boxers meant my penis moved around more, and that sometimes lead to spontaneous hard-ons. Briefs weren't quite as exciting, but the last thing I needed was any help getting an erection during a school day. My Mom had bought me some boxers recently, even though I told her I liked briefs better. I found, though, that they were quite comfortable to sleep in, so that's the duty they were put to most of the time. I have to admit, though, that sometimes I wore boxers during the day just for some fun. Sometimes it's entertaining to go to the mall and wander around with an erection. There was a light tapping at the door and I heard Alie's voice calling my name quietly. "Come in, sis." She was dressed in a white shorty nightie, the hem of which just covered whatever panties she was wearing underneath. She quietly closed the door and stood a little awkwardly, glancing around the room. "You little shit," she said, her posture straightening when her eyes fell on her white jean shorts lying on my floor. I hadn't tried to hide them from her, I just thought it was funny to take them from her room. "Daddy came to my room this evening and apologized for being so mean to me. When he knocked in my door I was still just in my panties and I went to put these on, but I couldn't find them." Now the garment was in her hand and being shaken at me. "I had to dive into my closet to find something else to wear and all I found was a little skirt that belongs to Katie. It's a little small for me, and even though he apologized I could see the disapproving look in his eyes. I think I flashed him a couple of times accidentally," she giggled at that a bit, and the tension drained from her body. She sat down on the edge of my bed, looking at the shorts in her hand. She went on to explain that Daddy had said he and Mom were disappointed with what she had done, but that he had overreacted. They weren't going to ground her, but he said when the color washed out of her hair they would rethink it if she put more color in. "I'm sorry, Alie. I didn't mean to cause you more trouble, I just thought it would be kinda funny." "It was, I guess. I was rummaging around on the floor of my closet looking for something to wear with my bum up in the air. I'm glad Daddy didn't just walk in," she giggled again. "But I'm sure he got a good look at my panties anyway, 'cause I couldn't keep them covered with that little skirt." The image of her purple-clad bum sticking up in the air, and her flashing my Dad momentarily stole my attention. "I'm surprised you took my shorts and not my panties," she looked at me slyly. "Well, you were still wearing your panties," I answered, returning her sly look. "Too bad for you," she swatted me on the chest. "Not really..." I trailed off, turning my head a bit and looking toward the ceiling, as though I was remembering her in her panties (which I was). "Besides," I said, "I already have a drawer full of your panties." I didn't really, but I could describe just about every pair she had. "You're nasty, Horny-Boy" she swatted at me again. I think she then realized that she was hitting my bare chest. "Are you naked!?" she asked, the thought scandalising her. I was sitting up in bed, but my duvet was pulled up to my waist and so covered my boxers. I tried to give her a look as though she'd caught me at something. "No..." I said, grasping the edge of the duvet. "Oh my god, you are!" she accused, her eyes going big. I wasn't much of an actor, but she seemed to buy my performance. She grabbed at my duvet trying to pull it down to take a look. I held on for a few seconds before letting her pull it away revealing my boxers. "You liar," she accused, suddenly launching herself at me, knocking the book out of my hand and landing on top of me. I was startled for a second, but then started wrestling her back. It was a continuation of our earlier wrestling. Both of us are about the same size, although I'm younger. We're at that point where I'm going to pass her by in size, but it hadn't happened yet. Instead we're fairly well matched, although I'm a little stronger. We rolled around on the bed, both of us trying to grab the other's hands and go for a pin. In the end I ended up on top, pinning her arms to the bed above her head, sitting on her pelvis, both of us breathing hard. "Give up?" I challenged her. "Never!" she retorted, squirming around trying to dislodge me, but not quite able to. "You're lucky I've had a long day and I'm tired, or else we'd be reversed and then you'd be in trouble." "Yeah, I guess it's my lucky day," my voice thick with sarcasm. "OK, you win. Let me up." I rolled off her, thudding to the bed beside her, now quite exhausted and trying to catch my breath. She didn't move at all, her arms still above her head, her chest rising and falling at a similar rate to mine. I could see that her nipples were quite erect and they drew my eyes as they moved up and down with her breathing. I also noticed that her nightie had drawn up, the hem of which was well above her small, almost transparent white panties. I could even make out the slight pink tint of her newly colored pubic hair. I looked back up to her face and saw that she was looking down my body, too. Her eyes were fixed on my boxers, and when I looked down I realized that not only had our exertions given me an erection, but the head of my penis was sticking out of the fly of my boxers. These boxers had a little button in the middle of the fly to close the opening, but I rarely did it up: it was much easier to masturbate if I had good access. "Oops," I said, reaching down and quickly trying to do up the little button. I wasn't very familiar with how it closed, since I rarely did that, so it took much longer that I had hoped. "Sorry about that," I said. "It's OK. You know in Ancient Greece they used to wrestle in the nude," she said with a bit of a far-away look in her eyes, which were still watching my hand trying to do up the button, My fingers paused in their task, my mind trying to figure out if she was saying we should just wrestle in the nude. I wasn't sure if I wanted to do that, I'd probably never win another match, enjoying letting her pin me each time. Finally I decided she was joking and went back to my task. "They sure don't make these easy to do up," I said. "Forget it, then. You're covered up, and it's not a big deal anyway. I showed you my pubic hair before." "Yeah, I guess so," I said, my hands nervously leaving the confounding button, but making sure my penis was back inside and covered. I was still quite hard and I was a little afraid it would find it's way back out the hole again, but Alie didn't seem too worried about it, so I tried not to be. I wondered if she could still see it pressing out the fabric. "I already know you're always horny, Horny-Boy, so it's no big deal," she said looking back up at my face and giving me her exaggerated wink again and giggling. Alie rolled toward me, propping herself up on one arm and looked down at me. "I just wanted to say thanks again for cheering me up earlier. That was really nice." "What are brother's for?" I asked rhetorically. "I have no idea, really," she answered with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Well, I've never been so insulted in all my life," I said dramatically, rolling away from her as though I didn't want to look at her anymore. She grabbed my shoulder pulling me onto my back again and quickly jumped on top of me, straddling my hips and wrestling my hands above my head. I put up a little resistance, but was rather tired from our earlier bout and just let her take me. "Ha ha!" she said, the traditional exclamation of the victor, while smiling down at me. I wiggled my hips a bit in a token effort to dislodge her, but she held me down. Suddenly she got a funny look on her face and looked down to where she was sitting on my hips. The fly of my boxers had come open again and the full length of my hard penis was now available, although only the end was visible up to where her pantie-clad crotch was sitting on it. After a few seconds of looking at our junction she said "I guess it's half Ancient Greek wrestling we're doing," giggling again. I felt myself turning red from embarrassment, and that made Alie giggle even more. She gave me another exaggerated wink, then leaned down and pressed her lips to mine. "You're such a Horny-Boy, but I love you," she said before she sat up putting her whole weight on my pelvis. I looked down and it looked like her vulva were split around my penis. She moved her pelvis once forward and back, and I'm pretty sure I almost came, then she jumped off the bed and headed for the door. She paused at the door and turned back to me, lifting her nightie to show me her panties. "Sleep well, Horny-Boy," she said, one hand holding the hem of her nightie to her tummy. "Those panties are so transparent you might was well not be wearing them. I can clearly see your pink pubic hair," I told her trying to embarrass her as much as I was embarrassed, still lying on my bed exposed. She paused for a second before grasping the waistband of her panties with both hands and pushing them to the floor. Stepping one foot out of them she used the toes of the other foot to awkwardly flip them into the air so she could catch them in her hand. The other hand still held the hem of her nightie to her tummy, giving me a fantastic look at her pink curls. Unlike the last time, though, I could clearly make out the deep pink color of her vulva and the darker cleft between them. She gave me another big wink before stepping though the door and pulling it closed behind her. As soon as the door was closed I grasped my penis (I told you it was handy to leave the fly open) and started stroking for all I was worth. I had the momentary glimpse of the full length of her vulva in my mind from when her legs scissored, kicking her panties into the air. In just a few seconds I was squirting come all over my chest in the most amazing orgasm I'd ever had. I thought I heard Alie's bed squeaking a little bit as I drifted off to sleep, but I might have made that up. -- The next day was Saturday and when I arrived in the kitchen for breakfast Mom and Alie were already there, Mom washing dishes, and Alie sitting at the table eating a bowl of cereal. They both looked at me and smilingly wished me a good morning. Mom was dressed for the day, but I noticed that Alie was still wearing the nightie she'd had on last night, just like I was still wearing just my boxers. Finishing the dishes and drying her hands on a tea towel Mom said "Dad had to go in to work this morning, some emergency he had to take care of. I'm going to do some shopping and should be back later this afternoon. I don't suppose either of you would like to come with me, would you?" When I was younger I liked to go shopping with my Mom, but lately I've enjoyed staying home, or going out with friends more. With school being out for the summer I was getting used to relaxing in the mornings. Maybe I'd head down to the mall in the afternoon to see who's hanging out there. Alie and I both muttered our disinterest, and Mom gathered her purse getting ready to leave, while I got myself a bowl of cereal and joined Alie at the table. I again admired Alie's new haircut and color. The style changed the look of her face quite a bit. She looked like a different person, a little more mature, but the pink in her hair gave her a playful look that suited her personality. She caught me staring at her and gave me a sly smile as she got up to put her empty bowl in the sink, the sound of her bowl punctuated by the sound of Mom's car starting and the tires crunching in the gravel driveway. She turned to face me, leaning back against the counter. I looked at the bottom of her nightie, wondering if she'd put her panties back on or not. I couldn't really tell since the hem was lower than her crotch, and the white material was thick enough that no hint of her pink hair showed through. She leaned back a little, causing the hem to lift up tantalizingly close to where I should be able to tell, but not quite close enough. I looked into her eyes and she was enjoying giving me a show without giving me a show. Without a word she gave me her big wink and walked out the doorway. My eyes were glued to her ass trying to answer my question, but I still couldn't really tell. I didn't think I saw any panty lines, though. When I'd finished my breakfast I headed back to my room, looking in Alie's doorway as I went by. She was lying on her bed, on her tummy, flipping through a magazine, and the hem of her nightie was lying just at the bottom of the slope of her bum. With her legs closed I still couldn't really tell if she was wearing panties or not, but it sure didn't look like it. There was nothing pushing against her nightie but her bum, I was pretty sure. Maybe she was wearing a g-string, since I knew she had at least one pair. I decided I really wanted to know, so I went in and sat down beside her on her bed. She turned her head to look at me, but only moved her upper body so that she could see. I glanced down and there was no change in the placement of her nightie hem. I asked her what she had planned for the day, and with a little smile, noticing that I had looked down at her ass, she told me that she didn't have anything much planned. She was going to meet Katie at the mall at 2, but till then she was just going to take it easy. I told her that was pretty much my plan, too. She was adjusting her posture a little bit, trying to get a more comfortable position to see me, but I didn't help her, just staying where I was, hoping that I might catch a glimpse of something with her movements. Finally, not able to get comfortable and still have a conversation, she rolled over, but also reached down to hold the hem of her nightie down while she did. My eyes were glued to the spot, hoping that in her gyrations she would slip up, but she didn't. The nightie stayed pulled taut in her hands, and the evidence remained out of sight. I looked back up at her face and she was smiling, watching me watch her. "You're wondering if I put my panties back on, aren't you?" she asked me knowingly. I had noticed that her pulling on the hem of her nightie had stretched the material over her breasts, showing them quite well now. "Not really," I said. "I know you put them back on after teasing me last night." "Actually," she said slowly, "I didn't." "Yeah, sure," I kidded her. "Like I'm going to show you," she retorted. "You'll just have to take my word for it." "Like I even care." "It sure looks like you do," she inclined her head toward my lap, where my hard penis was pushing out the fabric of my boxers. Traitorous little bastard, I though. At least it wasn't sticking out the hole again, I'd still not done up the button. "It's always like that." Not really a lie. "Yeah, especially when you're thinking about naked girls, Horny-Boy" she giggled. I reached for the hollow just beneath her rib cage, where I knew she was ticklish. She squirmed on the bed and laughed out loud as I continued my assault. I wasn't even thinking about her panties any more, just laughing along with her like we had when we were little and had a tickle fight. She gave up trying to dislodge my hands and went on the attack herself. Soon we were rolling around on her bed, laughing and tickling, but eventually we were both exhausted. We called a tentative truce, and suddenly I remembered to check for her panties. Looking down I could see that her nightie had ridden up over her tummy, and her pink hair was fully on display between her slightly splayed legs. She saw me looking, and with a grunt, attacked me again, digging her fingers into my sides and trying to get above me to weigh me down. I went back at her, too, my fingers now on her bare sides. My mind seemed to be only half on the tickling, the other half on the feel of her soft skin under my hands. I let my hands roam a little more than I might if I was just tickling her, feeling her soft tummy, and the little slope that I knew headed down to her pink hair. I couldn't help but let me fingers just graze that hair, trying to see if it felt like my pubic hair felt. It was very similar, maybe a little softer if anything. I suddenly remembered that I was supposed to be tickling Alie so my hands went back to her sides. I climbed her ribs heading for her underarms where I knew she was also very ticklish. With all the squirming and the movement of my hands I had inadvertently pushed her nightie up high enough that it was getting tangled in her arms, which were still hitting my ticklish spots. I could tell she was getting pretty frustrated with the sudden lack of mobility so she tried to pull it down a couple of times but it kept moving back up (I have to admit I wasn't helping her pull it down), so finally she seemed to lift her arms above her head, grabbing the garment on their way up and popping her head out of the head hole, the nightie pooling behind her neck, her arms still in it. I was now totally distracted. Here was my sister Alie, lying beside me on her bed, essentially completely naked. My hands had stopped moving, my eyes now roaming over her whole body, taking in her heaving, bobbing breasts with their very pink areola and erect little nipples. Her soft, smooth, flat tummy and little waist flaring out a bit at her slim hips, her hip bones poking above the plain of her tummy, her very cute pink pubic hair, and below that, her very pink, slightly red, labia. All was quite visible because it's difficult to have a tickle fight and still remain in a demure and lady-like pose. Her legs were splayed for leverage, giving me a great view of my first real live pussy. Since I had paused to take in the view Alie took the opportunity to get the upper hand and threw herself on top of me, trying to hold me down with her weight while still tickling with her fingers. I squirmed around underneath her, realizing by the feel, and a quick peek, that my penis was once again sticking out of the gap in my shorts. I could feel her pressing against it, and squishing it between us at times. I continued to move around underneath her, trying to dislodge her, but she held tight to me, still tickling as she was able. Finally with one big effort I flipped us over, gaining the higher ground, my hands holding her shoulders down to the mattress. I paused for a second, both of us taking a rest to catch our breath, both of us panting. "Not exactly Greek wresting," Alie said looking down at my boxers. "Looks like only one of us is naked." "Too bad for you," I retorted. "We'll see about that." She reached her hands down and tried to push my boxers off my hips, managing to move them only an inch or so on each side. I pressed my pelvis to hers trying hard to keep my advantage, both in position and the fact that I wasn't as naked as she was. Her hands alternated tickling my ribs, which caused my hips to move up trying to get away from them, and pushing at my boxers before my hips crashed back to hers. Through a few iterations of this cycle she had the back down below my bum, and the front pulling rather painfully on my erection. She had gotten her legs outside mine, and by curling them up, was using her feet and toes to push the garment further off. Any further movement now, though, was getting a little painful as the waistband tried to bend my cock in a direction it didn't want to go. "Wait, wait," I said, Alie stopping her movements, both of us looking down between us. Alie's legs were up along my hips, her toes tucked into my shorts along my thighs pushing them down but the waistband in front stretched tightly where my hard penis met with my body. "I don't think it's going to go down any further." Alie started giggling. "Sorry, I didn't realise it was caught on you," she said between giggles. I couldn't help but notice that with Alie's knees up and apart as they were I could clearly see that the outer lips of her vagina were parted, her inner lips quite obviously red and glistening. I could also see that my penis had some moisture on it, possibly Alie's. For some reason I was a little surprised to find that she was as sexually excited as I was, but that thought really excited me. Suddenly I didn't mind the thought of being completely naked with her. But I didn't want to concede too quickly. "You're obviously not going to get them off me, they're stuck." "Oh yeah?" She pushed down a little harder with her feet, both of us watching as the pressure made my hard penis dip down a little, lightly touching her splayed vaginal lips. Both of us exhaled a bit with the contact, Alie's legs wavering slightly, but neither of us giving up. "I'm going to keep pushing till they come free," she told me matter-of-factly. "Alright, alright," I obviously wasn't going to win this one. I reached down, grasping the waistband trying to pull it up, to get it up and over my penis but Alie kept up the pressure. "You have to let me pull them up a bit to get them off," I said looking up into her eyes. "OK, but no tricks." Alie eased her feet higher up my thighs, but still kept her toes tucked into the waistband. Finally I had enough slack to pull the shorts over the head of my penis and immediately Alie pushed them down to my feet and with a little kick I was as naked as she was. She went right back to tickling my ribs, but also brought her legs back up to hold my hips in place between her shins, and now I was even more aware of the fact that my hard penis was lying along her wet slot. As she tickled I couldn't help by wiggle my hips, the feeling of our intimate areas sliding together so intense. From the way she rocked her legs, moving my pelvis against hers I knew she liked the feeling, too. I put my forehead on one of her shoulders to keep her down and moved my hands back to her ribs to keep up the tickling assault, but she had other ideas as she flipped us both back over so that she was again on top, hugging me tightly. We both paused again, both still breathing hard, possibly not entirely from all the exertion. Her upper body was pressed tightly to me, and I could feel the soft sponginess of her breasts pressed against my chest, her hard nipples dragging across mine. She was also moving her hips around a little, too, and her breathing was very quick, small sighs or slight groans coming from her mouth very close to my ear. As we moved, sometimes I could feel her pussy against my very hard cock, sometimes her hips were off to the side. Wherever her hips were they seemed to be making little circles, rubbing against me, against my penis or my hip bone. I could feel that she was leaving her wetness on me, and there was a new smell in the air. We were both perspiring, so there was the smell of sweat and exertion, but there was something new there, too. A smell that was making my head spin, and my penis feel even harder, if that was even possible. I tried to keep tickling her, but it was difficult with her pressed against me, so my hands moved to her back, my fingers still moving in tickling motions. Somehow my hands made their way down to her soft bum, that was rotating on me and giving me such great feeling in my cock. I squeezed and kneaded and pulled her pelvis tighter against mine, helping her keep moving. She reached back, grabbing my hands and pulled them above my head in our classic victor/vanquished pose, and I let her do that. She sat up on me a little, looking into my eyes with a winners smile on her lips and in her eyes, but she didn't stop the rotating of her hips. I looked deep into her eyes, feeling a great love for her, before my eyes were pulled away to her bouncing breasts. I'd rarely seen them move like that before. There were times since her breasts had started growing when Alie went around the house without a bra under her shirt, and I was always fascinated with the way they moved on those occasions. Each one seemed to have a life of it's own, doing something similar to it's neighbor, but not the same. Now they were doing that in a much more pronounced fashion and I was mesmerized by their bouncing, my eyes trying to follow the complex curves that her erect little nipples were describing in the air. I then looked further down between us and could see her pink hair pressed against me. She was moving her hips in jerky movements from side to side, and up and down, and in circles, rubbing and pressing herself against me. I couldn't help but press my hips against hers as she moved. My penis felt like it was being attacked; moved back and forth, crushed and freed, sometimes I could feel her coarse pubic hair rubbing against the head, sometimes her soft inner thigh, sometimes her even softer and very wet labia. Most of those movements felt fantastic to my penis, it was the greatest feeling I'd ever felt. Way better than stroking it myself. Suddenly there was a feeling of heat and wetness that seemed to surround my penis. Alie let out a startled "Oh!" and froze above me, getting a shocked look on her face and staring into my eyes. I stopped all my movements, too, because I wasn't sure quite what had happened. Alie looked down my body to where our pelvises were still tightly pressed together, it all looked the same as it had before to me. Alie lifted her left knee off the bed a little, though, lifting her pelvis off mine just a little bit, and then just a little bit more. I couldn't see the head of my penis, which I thought I should be able to see lying against my tummy, but I could see the shaft. As she pulled away a little bit more sudden realization hit me; we were still attached, my penis was up inside her pussy. I moaned out loud with the revelation that I was finally inside a girl, my penis was deep in her warm wet pussy, the thought almost causing me to come right then. The fact that it was my sister was a little shocking, but I felt another wave of overwhelming love for her. Alie had stopped moving, my penis still buried in her. She was still staring down to where we were joined and breathing rapidly. She suddenly looked back up into my face, causing her body to fall back on top of mine, impaling herself fully again. That caused her to let out another little "Oh!", but she otherwise kept our pelvises pressed together. "Oh my god, Paul. What have we done?" she exclaimed. I swallowed hard and loud. "I...ah.." I was at a loss for words. It felt so good to be inside Alie, and I really wanted her to move around again, but she looked very distressed and the last thing I wanted was to upset her any more than she already was. "Oh god! We can't do this. Not with my own brother! I can't believe my own brother just took my virginity." She was shaking her head and looking away, a slightly confused and sad look on her face. "Hey, wait a second," I said, my hands reaching up to touch her arm in a supportive gesture. "We were just playing around, we didn't mean for that to happen. Maybe it doesn't count." I had no idea what the rules were for losing your virginity, but it didn't seem to be that big a deal to me. Whatever the issue was, it seemed to be already done and I didn't want to see Alie get upset about it. Any time I'd ever thought about my own virginity I was trying to figure out how to lose it. I guess it's different for girls than for guys, though. I still didn't think it was a very big deal. Either way, though, I was a little surprised Alie was still a virgin, I thought she'd had sex with her last boyfriend. I came home once about a year ago and caught them in her bedroom, both on her bed and almost completely naked. "You're still a virgin? What about Tommy Hargrove?" I asked, mentioning that last boyfriend. "What, you think I had sex with him?" her eyes quickly turning back to me. "Well, you were here naked with him that time." She giggled a little, which I could feel with the tip of my penis, reminding me that we were still joined. "We were just showing each other that time, we weren't going to have sex. We did masturbate together a couple of times, though, but he never put it in me." The slightly sad look came back to her face. "We were going to do it, at least I was planning to. I even popped my own cherry so that it would be a little easier, but then he got together with Becky, that bitch," the sadness being replaced by anger, her brows knitting together slightly. "Pppopped your own cherry?" I asked, not really understanding. "Yeah, you know," she looked back into my eyes. "Do you know what a cherry is?" I'd heard the term before, when guys talked about popping a girls cherry, but I thought it was some figure of speech. "Ummm..." I said intelligently. She let out her breath in the display of fake exasperation she used on me whenever she got to teach me something I didn't know. "A girls...vagina...often has a flap of skin at the entrance that blocks it or closes it down a little. It usually gets stretched or broken the first time she has sex, but sometimes it can break from other things, too, like a tampon. Julie broke hers on her bike seat when she went over a jump and sat down really hard." She giggled a little again, but I winced a little knowing what sitting down hard on your bike seat felt like. "It usually hurts when it happens, so I broke my own so that having sex would be easier." "How did you do that," I asked a little tentatively, not sure if I wanted to know the answer or not, but curiosity getting the better of me as usual. She got a smile on her face again, looking at me slyly. "Mom's got a vibrator..." It took me a second to figure out what she was saying, but I suddenly realised that she had fucked herself with Mom's dildo. I didn't even know Mom had one, so there were quite a few surprises in that short little phrase. "No," I said, meaning I was surprised to hear that Mom had a dildo. "Yes," Alie nodded, meaning that that's what she'd done. Leaning a little closer she whispered conspiratorially "sometimes I still use it when no one else is home." "No," still shocked. "Yep. Feels really good." She shifted her hips a little, lifting up and letting herself down again just a tiny bit. "Although this feels nicer. You're much warmer." I was too shocked to reply; I just stared at her with big eyes. My mind was full of images of Alie rubbing and fucking herself with a vibrator, lying on this very bed with her legs spread. That is until she shifted her hips again and the incredible feeling on my penis brought me back to reality. Looking down to where we were joined was way better than thinking of Alie with a vibrator. Well, both were really exciting, but one was more real at the moment. I looked back into her eyes again, that sly look still on her face. "Are you sorry that you lost your virginity to your sister?" she asked. "Well," I began. "I don't think virginity is quite as prized by guys as it is by girls. A guy is usually trying to find a way to get rid of his." A slightly sad look overcame her face. "Well, it looks like you've found a way to 'get rid of' yours..." I guess she was in a rather vulnerable place. I never thought of Alie as vulnerable, she always seemed to be in control, but I did remember when she'd broken up with Tommy, and how she'd cried all night. I hated to see her sad, so I just said what came to mind, which turned out to be how I was feeling. "No, Alie! I'm glad it's with you. There's no one I love as much as I love you," I realised that was true as soon as it was out of my mouth, even though I'd never really thought about it before. "You've always been the one to make me laugh when I'm sad, and celebrate with me when I win. You're my favourite person." I felt a little tear come to my eye. Looking back at Alie I saw that tears were coming to her eyes, too. "Oh, I love you so much, Paul." She bent down and hugged my tightly while my arms went up and wrapped around her. We lay like that for a while, a few sobs causing tremors in her body that I could feel all over mine, especially where my penis was still buried in her. She sat up a bit again, supporting herself with her arms on the bed and looked deeply into my eyes. "I'm glad it's with you, too, Paul. If it had been with Tommy he would have eventually left me for Becky anyway, but I can always count on you being there for me. You always have been." I hugged her to me again, pulling her tightly against me and kissing her head. We lay like that for a few more minutes until, without moving her upper body, Alie flexed her hips, lifting her bum off me slightly before moving it back down again. We both let out a little "Oh!" at the same time as her movement caused my still-hard cock to move inside her still-wet pussy. "You're still in me; I almost forgot," she said getting up on her forearms again and looking at me. "I didn't," I said with a big smile. She slapped my chest and giggled with me. "I bet you didn't, Horny-Boy." Her giggling caused her insides to move, causing her pussy to move around my buried cock, causing my cock to jerk, causing Alie to sigh and close her eyes. "It feels really nice to have you inside me like that," she said experimentally lifting her hips a couple of times. "Ohh god, it feels so good," I sighed, my hands running over her back and along her bum. I reached my left hand around cupping her breast and running my thumb around her nipple. She watched me doing that, her breathing getting quicker as my thumb pressed more on her little erection. "Mmmmm," she sighed, her hips starting to move up and down a little, also making little circles against me when our pelvises were together. Suddenly she stopped. "Oh god!", her eyes getting wide she pulled her hips up and off me, my wet penis slapping against my tummy. She jumped up off the bed and went to her dresser, my unbelieving eyes watched her go, incredulous that she had just stopped it all like that. She rummaged around in one of her drawers before exclaiming "Aha!" and pulling something out. She came back to the bed with a little purple square in her hand, holding it out to me like a prize. "We have to be very careful," she said getting back on the bed and sitting on my shins facing me. "I got these to use with Tommy; he was too chicken to buy them." She tore open the package pulling out a condom. I recognized it right away and chastised myself severely for not thinking of it before. That was a close one. Alie grabbed my cock and expertly placed the condom over the tip and started to roll it down. "I practiced THIS with Mom's vibrator, too," she said looking back up at me as her fingers unrolled the latex. When it was unrolled to the base she knee-walked her way back up my body until she could sit on my pelvis again, staring into my eyes the whole time. Once she was in place she rubbed her pussy along my cock again, smiling down at me, her mouth opening a little with the feeling of being back together again. Finally she lifted up a little and reached her hand down, taking my cock and pointing it up. It took her a few seconds of moving the tip around against her pussy before she was satisfied with where it was going and that it was wet enough to go there. Still looking into my eyes she said "this time we're going to do it on purpose." With that she let herself down onto me, the tip of my penis disappearing inside her. We both let out another "Ahh," as she moved up and down, getting the latex wet with her secretions. After a few in-and-out movements out pelvises were back together again, my hard cock again buried inside her. She only paused for a second before starting to raise and lower her hips, moving my cock in and out of her pussy. Every couple of strokes she would grind her pelvis against mine, then go back to stroking. I can't possibly describe how amazing it felt to be inside Alie. So soft and warm. It wasn't quite as good inside the condom as it had been without, but it was still amazing. Soon we were both moaning, our breathing coming in gasps. Alie's hips were lifting and falling against me quite quickly and the sounds of me moving in her wetness filled the room. My hands were flying over her body, too, alternately rubbing her breasts and nipples, running up and down her back, and squeezing her bum. I was in heaven, inside Alie. I have masturbated for several years, so I'm familiar with the feeling of an impending orgasm. I could feel one coming on now, but I didn't want it to end yet, and I wanted Alie to have an orgasm, too. I grabbed her hips and tried to get her to stop, so I could get back under control. "Did you come?" she asked me breathlessly, her eyes coming back into focus on my face. "No, but I'm just about to..." I said. "Ohhh, do it," she said, her eyes closing again and her hips going back to their rhythm. "I'm about to, too." Her rhythm started me climbing the peak again, and I concentrated on the feeling from the head of my cock buried so deeply in my sister. I could feel the tickling starting again, the come boiling inside me, looking for a way out. I was getting closer and closer, and suddenly Alie lifted her head to the ceiling and let out a strangled exclamation. Her face contorted, her muscles tensed, she started jerking around above me. I could feel the muscles inside her moving against my cock, gripping it, and it sent me over the edge, too. I grabbed her hips and thrust deeper inside her, filling the condom with squirt after squirt of come, my cock jerking in it's tight sheath. We both jerked our hips together for several long seconds that seemed like and eternity, before Alie let out the air she was holding with a whoosh and collapsed on top of me. My arm went around her and hugged her tightly to me, our sweat commingling, our chests heaving for oxygen. We lay like that for quite a while, our breathing slowly returning for normal. "I'm crushing you," Alie said, starting to lift her weight off me. I pulled her back to me. "Not at all, I like having you on top of me." "Hmmmm," she signed, hugging me back. "I think I have to go have a shower, though," she said, sitting up again and looking into my eyes. "But first..." she leaned back in and pressed her lips to mine. Holding them there we slid them against each other for a few seconds before she sat up again. "That was way better than I imagined it would be." "Ohh, me too," I sighed. "That felt amazing". She looked down at where we were joined, my still-partly-firm penis still inside her, and lifted her hips slowly until I fell out, condom and all. We both said "Oh!" as we separated. Alie gently took my penis into her hand and slowly pulled the condom off. "Wow, that's a lot of come," she said looking critically at the latex. Pinching the end between her fingers she jumped up and headed for the bathroom, my eyes following her naked departure. In the doorway she paused, and turning her head back to me she gave me a big exaggerated wink and a big smile. --------- I have some ideas for continuing this story, if anyone is interested in reading more. Let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you: [email protected]

Pink Part 2 (m/f inc slow) By Pauley If you haven't read the first part you can find it here: http://www.asstr.org/~Pauley/ --------- I was still lying on Alie's bed when she came back from her shower. I think that startled her a little; when she came through the doorway she paused momentarily with a slightly surprised look on her face before marching determinedly in. It also might have been the fact that I was still naked, too. I saw her eyes lock onto my flaccid penis as she walked by, a sly smirk on her face. I had been lost in thought, and didn't realize that so much time had passed. I was thinking about our new relationship, Alie and me. We'd been fairly close up to this point, doing some things together, but also having our own friends to do things with, as well as having time to ourselves. Generally I really enjoyed spending time with her, as my older sister I looked up to her quite a bit. She often seemed to know the answers to my questions, and if she didn't she took to time to help me find them. To say that I loved her would have been an understatement. In reality I couldn't imagine what my life would be like without her, and I didn't want any of that to change. If anything I wanted to spend more time with her, but I didn't want to become the pesky little brother. My eyes followed her as she came into the room. She had a towel wrapped around herself that covered her from under her arms to mid-thigh. She went over to her dresser and I noticed that the first drawer she opened was her panty drawer. I was familiar with that drawer. Now, she rummaged through the contents looking for a particular pair. I was intrigued; which pair was she looking for? I rolled to my side and propped my head up on my hand to get a better look. Alie noticed my movement and her hands paused while her eyes looked over at me without fully turning her head to me. Her pause lasted for a couple of seconds before she went back to her task without a word, finally pulling out a small pink and white garment and pushing the drawer closed. She paused again, hands on the dresser drawer just closed, white cloth dangling from one finger, her eyes rotating toward me again. I could see that her breathing was a little quicker now than it had been. She turned her head towards me, slyly giving me a once-over. She seemed to be trying to decide something, maybe whether or not to drop her towel in front of me. We rarely were naked in front of each other. Not because we were brought up to be prudes, exactly; our parents sometimes went naked around the house, but usually it was incidental nudity, going from the shower to the bedroom, or getting something from another room when getting ready for bed. Several years ago we had a bit of a heatwave and for a weekend we all seemed to be much more comfortable wandering around the house nude. I remember being quite interested in Mom's breasts at the time, I guess I was starting to take notice of that sort of thing. I also remember noticing that Alie still had the body of a little girl, her breasts were just little cones on her chest and no pubic hair covering her little slit, unlike Mom's developed body. Mom's pubic hair was quite a bit shorter than Dad's, she probably trimmed it, and I could just make out the dark shadow of her slit at the bottom of her curly triangle. I also remember noticing that Dad's penis was MUCH bigger than mine. He also liked to touch my Mom more than when they were clothed, which I didn't understand at the time, but I sure do now. I saw him squeeze Mom's breasts and bum several times, which often made her giggle. She sat in his lap a couple of times, too, before saying it was too hot for that and getting her own seat. I sometimes noticed that Dad's penis was even bigger at those times, which I also understand now. I saw him looking at Alie differently a couple of times, too, maybe staring between her legs, or just watching her walk across the room. He touched her a little more, too, but not really in the same way he touched Mom. Sometimes he would just put his hand on her arm, or her back. Nothing more than that. Nothing more than Mom did to me at that time. In the evenings when it was cooling off we would cuddle together on the sofa and watch a movie. It was so comfortable to be in contact with each other like that. I loved having my Mom's arms around me while I sat in her lap, or lay beside her with my head on her tummy while she stroked my back, or my hair. Hmm, so nice. Just like Alie has matured since then, so have I. I started to grow pubic hair about a year ago, and instantly didn't like it. It's something I've decided to put up with for now, though, although I trim it with a pair of scissors every now and then. I don't really like having puffy pubic hair. Sometimes it gets caught under my foreskin and gets pulled. That's no fun. My penis has also grown quite a bit recently. I measure it every now and then, and thought it was really big until I found out that the measurement is about average for my age. Oh well, it seems really big to me. Finally having decided what she was going to do Alie turned her back to me and slowly, one side at a time, pulled her towel wide open, looking back at me over her shoulder. Winking at me she dropped the towel, letting it fall to the floor at her feet. She stood like that for a few seconds, her left leg slightly bent, up on her toes on that foot. I couldn't help but stare at this beautiful sight. Her arms, still held up, accentuated the lines of her body, her sides tapering in ever so slightly from her shoulders to her waist before flaring out again in the softest, gentlest of curves over her hips and back in again to her legs. The indentation of her spine divided her back precisely, disappearing just where her waist tucked in and her bum started to flare out. The top of the crack of her bum was punctuated by a cute pair of dimples, just above. The crack of her bum continued down to the start of her legs where it flared out in a soft curve, seeming to divide her legs from her body. There was a slight gap there, where her legs didn't quite meet each other at the top, leaving a little triangle. Not such a large gap that much light came though but I could make out some pinkness of her labia or her new-color hair in the darkness there. She was all soft curves and beautiful lines and lying there watching her was really exciting. I didn't realise that my penis had gone fully hard again until my eyes made it back up her body, back to her pretty face that was turned looking at me over her shoulder. Her eyes were looking me over, too, but spent more time looking between my legs than anywhere else. It was then that I noticed the tension down there, feeling the hardness that had grown. I made it jerk once and watched her eyes get big and heard her intake of breath. She'd watched it grow while I surveyed her beautiful body. Finally she turned to face me, her hands each holding one side of the panties she had chosen and stretching them to cover her pubic area. "You're the expert, Horny-Boy," she said. "Will these be OK?" I was trying to take it all in. My eyes flew from her slyly smiling face, down to her gently curved breasts capped with erect pink nipples, along her flat soft tummy and down to the panties she was holding. I was a little surprised by them, thinking that she would have chosen some of her more mature silky or lacy ones. Instead the pair she was holding were white cotton with hot pink elastic openings and a smiling cartoon honey bee in the middle. Very cute, but not the sexiest pair she had. While I was taking in the sight and thinking about the panties she quickly stepped into them and pulled them up her legs, wiggling her hips to get them into place. They were just a little small on her, but not enough that they cut into her and ruined her flowing curves. I then realised that they were a very small pair of panties. They were what you might call a low hipster, coming just halfway up her hips and leaving a lot of skin above including the points of her hips. They were actually incredibly sexy on her, and very brief. The waistband really only came to the top of her patch of pubic hair. "Oh my god, Alie! You are so incredibly sexy." I told her honestly. She gave me a beaming smile and turned to show me the back, swinging her hips as she did. So amazingly sexy. I was again reminded of the tension in my penis; I'm not sure that it's ever been that hard before. I couldn't help but drag my fingers over the shaft as I watched Alie, her eyes watching my fingers. "OK, Horny-Boy," she said finally. "Go have a shower, you stink. I'm leaving for the mall in 20 minutes with or without you." I had forgotten she said she was going to meet Katie at the mall, and upon remembering that I was surprised that so much time had passed since Mom had left. I guess what they say is true: "time flies when you're having fun." I wished we could just stay home and have some more fun, but I guess Alie didn't want to stand up her friend. Having sex with your brother is a tough excuse to pass off. I got up reluctantly, and, before heading for the door, gave Alie's bum a few pats as she stood looking through her shirt drawer. "Go on, you," she said, not really chasing me out. When I was dressed and ready to go I found Alie in the living room waiting for me. She had dressed in a pair of jean overall shorts and a pink t-shirt. I was a little disappointed with the overalls as they weren't very sexy, although I know she liked them because they were comfortable. She stood up and came over to me, and noticing my disappointment, put her arms around my neck. "I wore these just for you," she said pulling away a little and turning to the side. Her hands went to the hip, where the bib attached to the shorts part, and I noticed that it was quite loose there. Standing as she was I could look down inside and see that her t-shirt ended at about her navel and there was a large expanse of skin down to the pink waistband of her little panties. My penis started stiffening again. Tentatively I reached out and pushed my hand into the opening, laying it on the soft skin of her tummy. Alie let out a little sigh and her grin changed as her lips parted. I moved my hand down further, down and down, finally finding her panties. I pushed my fingers under the waistband and felt the crinkly softness of her pubic hair before she twisted herself out of my reach, my hand coming back out. "Naughty Horny-Boy," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "Sorry these aren't very sexy, but I thought you'd like it if you could have a peek now and then," she winked. "I love that, Alie, thank you," I kissed her on the cheek. I looked critically at the overalls. I really did like the access, but they were still a little unflattering to Alie. "You could make them a little more sexy if you want." "Really? How?" "Well, girls always look sexier when their pants are tight to their crotch. These are close, but they're a little bit baggy there. I bet you could tighten the shoulder straps a little to pull them up." There was just a short distance to go, and it looked like the straps were almost all the way down. Alie grabbed the sides of her overalls and pulled them up so that they were tight to her crotch. I was right, that was much better. Not only was the curving-under of her crotch more defined, but the leg openings were a little tighter now that they were further up her thighs, too. "OK, lets try that," she said, continuing to hold the garment in the right place. I reached out and adjusted the straps through the buckle for the new fit and stood back for a look. Now the look was defined by her shape, rather than the shape of the baggy overalls and it was much sexier. I put my hands on her hips and turned her side-on to me and had a look into the gap again. The view was a little different now, but in the right position I could still see the expanse of skin down into the darkness to where the pink of her panties glowed. I turned her around and noticed that the full shape of her bum was now quite defined. It might have been better cinched in a bit at her waist to give more definition to the flare of her hips, but that would have taken away my view and I didn't want that. "This is just for you," she told me, looking at me seriously. "You can look in here any time you want to," her fingers holding the gap open. "You make these overalls incredibly sexy," I told her. "You are a really beautiful and sexy girl," I said looking into her eyes. She threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly. "You're so good to me," she said, a little hitch in her voice. After a few seconds of holding each other closely she released me and stood back. "We'd better get going or we're going to miss the bus." She took my hand and pulled me towards to door. -- We were a little late by the time we got to the mall. I was very surprised to see my friend Justin sitting with Katie in the food court. I'd never seen these two spend any time together other than when they both happened to be at our house at the same time. "Here they are, finally!" Katie said as she saw us approaching. "I thought I was going to have to listen to Jussy tell me again how much better Grandma Lynn's fries are than Burger Master," she indicated the two fast food French Fry containers on the table in front of them. I could see Justin wince a little at the truncation of his name. He was about to make a retort when he noticed Alie's new hair color. "You both dyed your hair!" he observed, looking back and forth between Katie and Alie. "I was telling Katie that hers looks like she's got some blood in her hair, looks like she's been in an accident. Yours looks great, though, Alie. You look like a subtle Lady Gaga. Very nice." I looked at Katie's hair, and her normal brown hair was now tinged with red giving it an Auburn look, but quite red in some places. I really liked it, and told her so. "Finally someone with some sense," she said to my compliment, looking back at Justin with a there-you-have-it look. "He would say that," Justin said back to her. "He's just trying to get into your pants." "Well, he just might," Katie said, standing up from the table and giving me a kiss on the cheek before looking back at Justin to see his reaction. She was satisfied with the shocked look she had garnered. "Come on, Alie," she took my sister's hand. "There are some cute skirts I want to show you." I had a big smirk on my face and adjusted my shirt as I looked over at Justin's surprised face. I then looked over to Alie and she had her hand in front of her mouth suppressing a laugh at the whole proceeding. "Don't get into trouble, boys," Katie said over her shoulder as the two walked away. I sat down in Katie's vacated seat as Justin and I watched the girls walk away. "That girl is crazy for me," Justin said turning towards me with a big smile on his face. "If you say so." I started eating the left-over fries. I was suddenly starving, and little wonder after the morning I'd had. Justin waited while I got some lunch, and I hoped Alie would have something, too. She must have been as hungry as I was. While I ate Justin told me that he'd run into Katie while looking for me and decided to wait with her since he figured I might be coming with Alie. They had talked quite a bit while waiting, it was the first time they'd really spent much time together. I reflected that they both had similar playful attitudes and even though they were probably verbally sparring the whole time, I bet they would get along well. It did seem that Katie was trying to get a rise out of Justin when we arrived, and that was a good sign for him. I knew he had liked her for a while now, and often asked me about her since she was often over at my house. He often asked to sleep over when he knew Katie was staying with Alie, but usually our parents didn't want to deal with more than one extra kid in the house. Lately, though, they'd been OK with it, since we were older and didn't need so much supervision and entertaining; we could handle that ourselves. Usually the girls kept to themselves, though, and didn't really want us around. After eating I grabbed an extra sandwich in case I ran into Alie and we headed down the hall to see what was going on. There weren't many kids there for some reason, we only ran into a couple of people we knew, but no one we liked enough to hang out with. As we walked past clothing store Justin poked me in the shoulder. "There's the girls," he inclined his head through the door. I looked over and saw them going through the racks and chatting. I remembered the sandwich so we headed in. "You couldn't stay away from me, I see" Katie said to Justin as we drew close. "Get a room, you two!" Alie rolled her eyes. I walked past the two who had started eyeing each other up like a pair of lions about to fight over a rack of girls skirts and showed Alie the sandwich. "Oh my hero!" she said throwing her arms around my neck and kissing my cheek. She suddenly got self-conscious as the other two pairs of eyes turned our way, her cheeks getting a little pink tinge to them as she pulled away. She held up the sandwich, showing them what she was so excited about, saying: "I'm starving." That seemed to be enough as the other two went back to sizing each other up. "Be careful of short skirts with your chicken legs," Justin said turning from Katie and looking through the rack. Katie made a clicking sound with her tongue, her hand going to her hip indignantly. "I don't have chicken legs!" Justin pulled a skirt from the rack and gave it to her before going back to thumb through some more. "And I don't need your help picking out clothes!" Katie was about to put the skirt back on the rack when she got a look at it. It was a short pleated skirt, mostly black with some red streaks. "But I'll try this one on, just to make you happy." Her hand stroked the material, obviously liking it now that it was in her hand. I looked at Alie and we giggled together while she powered through her sandwich. Justin picked out a couple more skirts, one of which Katie vetoed, but most of which were quite cute, and she seemed to agree. I tried to pick a couple for Alie, too, most of which she didn't like. She did agree to try two of them, so that was good. I also found her a couple of summer dresses. One was empire-waisted which she used to wear when she was younger and I was curious how it looked on her how that she had hips and breasts, and the other was just a very light material. I thought I might be able to see through the latter one and was wondering if Alie would even try it. "OK, OK, that's enough," both girls said at about the same time. "Do you need us to pick you out some panties, too?" Justin asked after them as they headed to the change rooms. All he got in reply was a glare from both girls. We both wandered over that way, hoping that they'd come out and show us ones they liked. The changing room area was off to the side and accessed down a little hallway. From there there was a T-junction with changing rooms in both directions. As we reached the intersection we could hear that they'd gone into a room down the far end to the left, so we walked a few steps in that direction. "Oh, this is cute," came Katie's muffled voice. "Let me see," Justin called. "No way! Get out of here!" came the reply. "I picked it out, I should get to see how it looks." After a long pause with some whispering Katie finally said "OK, I'll show you. Wait there." A small gap appeared in the curtain and Katie stepped through it. I tried to see if I could see Alie in there, maybe in those tiny little panties, but the opening wasn't big enough. Anyway, Katie was there in the black and red pleated skirt that Justin had picked out. It did look really cute on her. Even the white shirt she had on, that she was wearing earlier, looked really good with it. "Wow," we both said at the same time. Katie did some model moves, prancing back and forth and sticking first one hip then the other out. She even made some pouty faces that made us giggle. At one point she spun around quite quickly and I saw a hint of her white panties underneath. I guess she wasn't sure if we'd seen anything because she grabbed the hem of the skirt and did some dancing lifting it more and more as she did. The whole time she was watching Justin for his reaction. I was enjoying the show, too, though. Finally she went back behind the curtain with one final flip of her skirt. "Alie, do you have one to show us?" I called. "OK, just a sec." The curtain flipped open, maybe more than Alie meant to because we saw Katie's white panty-clad bum as she changed. Alie strode out with the curtain closing behind her and struck a pose in the thin summer dress. It was thin, I was right. It was probably meant to be worn with something else underneath it, because I could clearly see her nipples where her breasts pressed them against the material. I could also see the outline of her panties, especially with the pink openings, and I thought I could even see the bumble bee. "Wow," we both said again. "It's kinda transparent," Alie said, still standing in front of us in her pose. "Yeah, I can see your panties," I said needlessly. Alie shrugged, then reached up under her skirt and pulled her panties down and stepped out of them. "Better?" she asked winking at me. I couldn't quite make out the color of her pubic hair, but I could see it. It was almost as though she was naked in front of us, just with a dark blue tinge to her body. I looked over at Justin to see what he thought, and his eyes were running up and down her body trying to take it all in. "Ahhh...." I said. "Wait a second," Alie said holding up a finger and disappearing behind the curtain. There was some giggling and whispering that followed, and a minute later Alie reappeared. She was still wearing the dress, but this time she was wearing a white slip underneath it. The slip was shorter than the skirt, so you could see her legs from her upper thighs, but she was nude no longer. "I figured it would need this," she said smiling at me, letting me know that she'd picked this slip out knowing she would need it under this dress. That thought was all the more sexy, knowing that she wore that dress without anything under it on purpose. Tricky girl. "Nah, it was better before," Justin said, one of us finally getting our tongue back. "Silly," Alie lightly pushed him before going back into the change room. Justin and I stood there for the next 15 minutes or so, watching the girls prancing in front of us, showing their cute outfits and quite often their panties. I guess Katie didn't want to be upstaged by Alie and came out once without panties on, letting us both get a good peek under the skirt she was trying. I had wondered if Katie had dyed her pubic hair like Alie had done, and now I knew that Katie didn't have any pubic hair to dye. Sexy girl. By the time the girls came out dressed again in the clothes they had arrived in I had a huge hard-on, and I'm sure Justin probably did, too. Both girls had big smiles on their faces knowing they had teased us so mercilessly. They strode right past us headed for the check-out counters, both buying some of the things they had tried, and casting off the rest. Alie was buying the summer dress and the slip, and Katie had a couple of skirts. I was looking forward to seeing it all again. As Alie walked passed me I took the opportunity to look down into the gap in her overalls, my eyes following her smooth skin down into the darkness past her waist. I looked up into her eyes and she was watching me, a little smile on her lips knowing I was peeking. Just before she turned her head she gave me a big wink. -- "I feel sorry for you, Man." Justin and I were standing in the mall while the girls finished their transactions in the store. "Why zat?" I was a little curious what he meant. "For me there were two sexy girls giving us a show in there, but for you it was one sexy girl and your sister. Seeing your sister dressed like that is kinda boring. I've seen my sister naked lots and it's not like seeing someone like Katie naked." "Yeah, but your sister's a bitch, I wouldn't want to see her naked either," I punched him in the arm playfully, hoping to divert the conversation a little. His sister was a couple of years younger than we were, and she was a complete brat. Whenever I was over at their house she seemed to go out of her way to make fun of me for something. Besides, she was just a kid, hardly a good comparison. "I still thought it was pretty exciting. Alie's pretty, and she's got a nice body. She doesn't put on a show like that at home, so it's kinda like she's just another girl, you know? Besides, Alie's cool. And it was great to see Katie like that." "Aww, she's you sister! That's kinda gross. She really did surprise me, though, with that see-through dress she wore. I never thought I'd ever see her in anything so revealing. She usually dresses so conservatively, like those overalls she's wearing. For some reason they look really good on her today, but they're still just overall shorts. Not very exciting." I guess he was so focused on Katie that he hadn't noticed the gap in the side that gave a good view inside those overalls. Too bad for him. "You and Katie seem to be hitting it off today." "Yeah, I've liked her for quite a while, and I think she likes me. She keeps giving me these looks, you know?" "Yeah, I know those looks." When the girls arrived they were both smiling, obviously they'd had a chance to chat about the show, too. "You guys want to catch a movie?" I asked. Everyone thought that was a good idea, so we headed for the theater, Katie and Justin pairing up and continuing to tease each other, Alie and I following along and giggling at them. Inside the theater Justin lead us to the back row, but before going in he grabbed Katie's hand and pulled her along with him. She gave a little surprised squeal, but followed with a big grin on her face. With the other two occupied Alie took my hand and followed Katie towards the middle of the row. We had a box of popcorn for each couple, so we made ourselves comfortable and chatted quietly waiting for the movie to start. We had allowed the girls to choose and it was a romantic comedy, which usually neither Justin nor myself would have chosen, but, you know, maybe chivalry's not dead. Or maybe it was something else... Soon the lights were out and the movie rolling. I reached to the popcorn tub Alie was holding in her lap and found it empty already. I guess we'd still been hungry. I moved my hand to Alie's thigh, the view of which the popcorn tub hid from Katie and Justin. I looked over at them and they wouldn't have noticed anyway; Katie was leaning over the armrest with her face stuck to Justin's. I nudged Alie a little and pointed towards our seatmates and she looked back at me with a big smile on her face, suppressing a giggle. Suddenly she got a serious look on her face, and after a second or two pause, she pressed her lips to mine, holding them there for a few more seconds. I couldn't believe what she was doing. What if our friends looked over and saw us. As soon as she pulled away I looked over her shoulder and saw that the other two were very preoccupied. I looked back at Alie and she was looking at me still, looking into my eyes to see what I thought of what she'd done. I found it really exciting, adrenaline pumping through my veins with the thrill of kissing Alie and the risk of doing it when our friends might see. I couldn't help myself and leaned in, pressing my lips to hers. They felt moist and rubbed against mine easily. I could hear her breathing coming fast through her nostrils, as was mine. It scared me a little and I pulled back in case we have pushed our luck too far. But we hadn't, they were still very preoccupied. My hand was still on Alie's thigh and I squeezed there, enjoying the feel of her skin under my fingers. I guess Alie enjoyed it too, because she put her hand on top of mine and squeezed, too. I kept lightly rubbing my fingers in little circles on the smoothness of her inner thigh until she suddenly pulled my hand away. I was really disappointed and looked over at her to find her looking back at me, her bottom lip lightly grasped between her teeth. She pulled my hand up a little and then back towards her body. I had no idea what was going on until she put my hand onto her side, then I realized that my fingers were pointed into the gap in he overalls. She was giving my hand access where she had given my eyes access earlier. I was in heaven. I moved my fingers around, feeling the fabric of her shirt on my fingers and the fabric of her overalls on the back of my hand. I pushed down a little bit and felt the hem at the bottom of her shirt, and more soft Alie skin below that. I let my fingers wander, moving back and forth as well as further down inside her overalls. I could feel the softness of her tummy, the indentation of her belly button, the rounded edge of the belly where it met the plain of her hips. A little further on my fingers met the crinkly softness of her pubic hair. I was expecting to meet the waistband of her panties, but nothing so far. I looked over at her with a bit of surprise and she just gave me a smile and her wink, shifting a little lower in her seat at the same time. I pressed on a little further, letting my fingers entwine with her hair, skimming over the top of it and feeling it's fluffiness, pressing through it, rubbing it against her skin. I ran my fingers into the sloping valley, that leg-of-the-V that led down between her legs, following it with my fingers, before moving back up and over her hair again, and into the valley on the other side. Alie was gripping my arm rather tightly with one hand, but still holding the popcorn tub on her other thigh, hopefully blocking the view of my hand wandering around inside her shorts in case someone happened to look at us. I glanced over at the other two and found them still kissing, but with Katie's back to us I wasn't sure what else was going on there. I continued pressing my hand lower into Alie's pants. The valleys on either side of her pubis were getting closer together, and Alie's breathing was coming faster. She was squirming around a little in her seat trying to guide where my hand was going but I wouldn't let her control the pace. Finally I felt the indentation that was the top of Alie's slit. I pressed my finger there, trying to push between the folds, wiggling my finger back and forth slightly to help. There was a sharp intake of breath beside me and Alie put her head on my shoulder for a second before looking back to the screen and trying to control herself. Now that I had found the right valley I couldn't bring myself to leave it. I pressed downward a little further, following her folds as they went down between her legs. Alie suddenly moved a bit, pulling the bottoms of her overalls down and making some room for my hand in the crotch of her pants. I paused for a few seconds to be sure that our neighbours didn't notice anything, but then went back to my assay. I was just an inch or so down her slit when I decided to try to press between the lips again. I wiggled my finger back and forth and pressed inward. Suddenly my finger was surrounded by wetness and warmth. I could feel her lips on either side of my finger, and smoothness underneath it. I was amazed at the amount of wetness I had encountered. I though Alie was wet this morning, but she seemed even wetter now, if that was possible. Because of the lubrication my finger now slid around with no problems. I slid it up and down, feeling and being amazed by all the folds of skin she had down there. I hadn't had a chance to have a look at what she looked like here, so I was trying to let my fingers do the exploring. I moved my finger back towards the top of her slit, keeping some pressure on my finger to keep it between her rubbery soft lips. Towards the top of her slit I found a hard thing. I remembered my Dad telling me about a girls clitoris, and that made sense now. He told me that a girl likes to have that spot rubbed, like a boy likes to have his penis rubbed. So I did that now. I moved my finger over the top and back down again a couple of times, hearing Alie take in and hold her breath, and feeling her pelvis jerk towards my finger slightly, and her grip increase on my arm. Enjoying her reaction immensely I decided to just rub there for a little while. I absolutely loved being able to make Alie move around as she was doing under my fingers. I looked into her face and her eyes were closed, her lips parted and her breath coming in gasps. Oh Alie, I loved her so much at that time, I wanted to give her all the pleasure in the world. But I also wanted to explore. I wanted to feel with my finger where my penis had gone earlier. So I regretfully left Alie's clitoris. Her eyes opened and looked at me as my fingers moved down her slit. I couldn't help myself and leaned in and kissed her full on the lips. I had pressed my lips there for a few seconds when I felt the tip of her tongue poking at me. I'd heard of French Kissing before, and knew what the process was, but I'd never done it before. But suddenly I understood, I wanted so badly to feel Alie's tongue against mine. I parted my lips and opened my mouth slightly, accepting her tongue, inviting it in. I was suddenly filled with a great passion, I wanted to consume her. I sucked on her tongue as it entered my mouth. I moved my tongue against hers, wrestling with it, feeling it's texture and strength. I didn't want this to ever end, but Alie pulled away. I looked into her eyes and she into mine, but then she turned away and looked towards Katie and Justin. Luckily they were still occupied, but when Alie looked back at me she had a slightly concerned look, along with one I'd seen earlier today; passion. I remembered the risk, though, and didn't go back for another kiss, although I really wanted to. I then realised that my fingers had been idle while we kissed. I put them back to work. I moved down further, down and around the corner when finally I felt her opening. I hooked my finger a little to feel it and pressed inward. I could feel her warmth completely surrounding my finger now, her wetness everywhere. I pressed in as far as my finger would go, feeling the soft smooth warm wet walls of her vagina. Alie had closed her eyes again, her breath again ragged. I moved in and out like my penis had done. I pushed and pulled, moved in circles, stretched her, let her go. I pulled my finger out and felt the different texture at the opening, swirling my finger around it. I could tell how much Alie was enjoying it, and could tell also that she was climbing towards an orgasm. I moved my finger away from her vagina, moving back up her slit between her lips until I could feel her clitoris again. This time I moved my finger around it with abandon. I wanted Alie to have a great orgasm. I also wanted to see if she could suppress her moaning so that she didn't attract attention. It would be tough for her, but I figured she could do it. I wiggled my finger back and forth over the tip. My hand was rather constrained in her pants, but I moved as I could. Alie put her head on my shoulder again and whispered in my ear: "Faster." It was the sexiest whisper I'd ever heard, and sent my finger flying around her clit. Her warm breath was blowing directly into my ear and sending me mad, her little moans doing their part, also. Suddenly she stiffened against me, her legs closing slightly on my hand. She had been sighing little "Oh"'s in my ear, and now they stopped with one last "Oh!" that was drawn out for the duration of her first contraction. She was being as quiet as she could, and trying to keep the wiggling of her pelvis to a minimum, and she did a good job. I kept up the finger movement until her hand clamped onto mine, keeping me from moving and pushing my fingers hard against her clit. She wiggled a few more times, then every muscle in her body relaxed. Her hand went loose against mine, her head fell to my shoulder, her breath blew against my neck with a sigh. I relaxed my hand too, and twiddled my fingers around just a little, but that brought her hand back to steady mine. I know I get very sensitive after I come, and I guess she did too. I slowly and gently pulled my hand from inside her pants. She sighed a little as my fingers left her slit and dragged over her pubic hair and along her tummy. Once my hand was in open air again I realised that my fingers were really wet. I lifted them to my face, to see what she smelled like and inhaled her pheromones that made my head spin a little. She didn't have a very strong smell, but I really liked it. Alie watched as I did it and breathed a little "Ew" into my ear. "You smell delicious," I said, touching my finger to my tongue to see if she tasted that way, too. Her juice was very slippery on my fingers and against my tongue, but didn't have a lot of flavor. I noticed she was still watching me so I stuck my fingers in my mouth and sucked them clean. Looking into her face she wasn't as scandalized as I thought she'd be, she was actually smiling at me a little. She looked into my eyes and gave me a wink. I looked over at the other two and they were still pretty engaged. It looked like Justin had his hand on Katie's breast and was rubbing in circles while they kissed. I looked up at the screen and the movie was coming to and end. The two main characters were kissing (without the breast pawing that was going on beside us) and everyone was smiling. It looked like another happy ending. But not for me: I was still as hard as a rock and dying to come. Alie reached into my lap and squeezed my penis through my pants and whispered "Later" to me with a smile, just before the lights came up. I headed for the bathroom to wash my hands in case someone noticed the strange smell in the air, and Justin followed me in. "I can't believe it! I just got to second base with Katie!" he enthused. I didn't want to tell him that I'd hit a homer this morning and a triple during the movie so I just grinned at him and said "Lucky you." "Sorry again to leave you with your sister. I hope you guys enjoyed the movie at least." "Ah, it was a chick flick, what can you say?" I deflected. I hoped he wasn't going to ask me anything about the plot because I had no idea, either. --------- I have some ideas for continuing this story, if anyone is interested in reading more. Let me know what you think, I'd love to hear from you: [email protected]

Author: Nikki Heat Title: The Invitation Part: Chapter 10 Summary: A story about Nikki and her reintroduction to an old fetish Keywords: Fb, Fbbbbbbbb, pedo This Is A Work Of Adult Fiction And Should Not Be Viewed By Minors. I Am The Author Of This Text. Please Do Not Repost Without Contacting Me First. If You Are Forbidden From Reading Works With Sexual Content, Either Due To Age Or By Law, Please Do Not Continue. The Invitation Chapter 10 Note: If you have not read the previous chapters, then please do so before proceeding. This work is episodic and as such you might be missing out on the atmosphere created to fully enjoy the literature. Thank you. Nikki woke up to the alarm clock on her phone telling her it was 7:30am. The slow melody slowly coming into volume of a chilled out dance track pushing through the air in the room as the phone vibrated. She leaned slowly away from Josh who was still snug and comfortably sleeping against her. He had nestled against her right breast and she felt the cool air as the warmth of his face left her skin. She looked down to her breast which felt wet whilst simultaneously reaching for her phone. Her breast glistened covered lightly with the drool from his mouth. She smiled to herself. He was out cold after last night and he must have been very tired she thought. She tapped on the screen to stop the alarm and slid the lock slider to access her phone, checking any txt messages she may have received. A couple which Nikki replied to. She quickly opened up her email to check of any unread messages that may have been work related. A few, but nothing that required urgent responses as she skimmed through the subject lines. "Good", she thought as she placed the phone back onto the bedside table. Nikki turned to look at the birthday boy as he slept peacefully, a slight curve at one corner of his lips one could mistake for a subtle smile. She felt at peace finally having had the opportunity to re-live her taboo. It was wonderful to be completely unburdened and open to the experience. She traced the 5 year olds body as he lay dreaming. He was sleeping on his back but turned slightly away due to the fact that he was leaning against her while they were asleep. He was still very much an adolescent so his body had not left the roundness of that of an infant. He still had an adolescent ribcage, very small and tight with a round pouty tummy that had a layer of baby fat on them. She noticed his light coloured nipple that stood out. He was wearing a white brief which had a Y front. She noticed a small bump, not an erection yet but it was enough for Nikki to start warming to the idea of encouraging and persuading a growth. "What a wonderful way to start your day on your birthday", she thought as she licked her lips. She softly moved down to Josh's groin, almost like a predator lining up its prey. Like a cougar moving through grass, low and deadly, as it approached its kill only a few inches away. With her fingers she pushed into the Y front and under the material, parting it aside, opening up her own little present this morning. Josh's bald little cock came into view resting against his little balls. A smell hit her as she breathed it in, recharging her passion. It smelt musky of dry sweat and urine. He wasn't a clean little boy but then something like that would be a little unrealistic to expect. Boys are not clean. "They are made up of caterpillars and spiders not candy and spice", she grinned. "Time for a clean..." Nikki whispered to herself. She revelled in the idea of grooming a completely flaccid cock into its full attention and especially a cock that was so young. Nikki opened her mouth and pushed her tongue out, with just the tip she pushed it between his right testicle and his inner thigh. Her tongue lifted his ball as she traced it towards the middle, wetting his under carriage. She continued to trace the tip of her tongue in the crevice between his thigh and his left testicle licking up the dense deposits of Josh's sweat. Recoiling her tongue back into her mouth she tasted the salty taste of sweat mixed with a strong taste of urine. Her loins quivered and she felt her walls moisten inside. Josh stirred a little and started to wake. He looked down his small frame. The details of Nikki's face became clearer through the blurred vision as he transitioned from unconsciousness. Nikki greeted him with a smile, "Happy Birthday my little man", she continued, "I thought I'd wake you in a special way seeing how its your birthday." Josh smiled back at her, just starting to feel a slight wetness underneath his balls. "What are you doing?" he asked curious about this "special way" "Well..." Nikki implied by opening her mouth and lowering her head over his boyhood, engulfing his soft penis and testicles into her mouth. She swirled her tongue encircling him completely, over and over, so as to produce a thick stream of saliva in her mouth wetting him completely. Mixing his dried sweat and urine covered with her saliva Nikki tasted the change as the flavour grew more intense on her tongue. Josh squirmed positively accepting the sudden rush of the feeling as it swept his cock. His senses attuned to the tip of his cock head sprung into life as he felt the limp in his shaft suddenly strengthen and start to grow. This is what Nikki was waiting for. She could literally feel the cock expanding in her mouth making her wetter by the second. She pressed her right hand underneath her and pushed it down between her naked body down to her sex. She reached into her pussy with two of her fingers to pull out some of her wetness pulling down on her entrance stretching herself open. Nikki dragged her fingers out from her hole and pressed it against her clit, now lubricated with her own juices. She started to roll her fingers against her hardened button as she sunk into her own ecstasy. She fed on his cock and swallowed her urine and sweat mixed saliva savouring the flavour and the after taste. Josh reached down with both his hands, spreading his fingers and combing them into Nikki's hair. He held her head and steadily started to move with the rhythm of her mouth. He started to fuck her mouth with his hard and pointy little cock with increasing thrusts of his hip. He felt his little shaft sliding above her tongue as his cock head slid in and out of Nikki's mouth. With every thrust Nikki sucked ever so much more intently, tightening her mouth around the 5 year olds member. Josh could feel the pressure as the top of his cock slid against the roof of Nikki's mouth. He felt the helmut of his cock squeezed hard as Nikki swallowed whilst sucking him in. The little boy had never felt such intensity in his loins before and to him this was heaven. He gripped harder on Nikki's head holding her in place and instinctively started to drive his shaft harder and faster. His pace quickened and he thrust his hip more violently now. He was seriously fucking her mouth, driven by an unknown force and Nikki welcomed it all. Her fingers rubbed more furiously against her clit as the sensation grew stronger at the tip of her clit. She craved being used so viciously by a lover so young as Josh. His little balls slapped against her chin as he felt all blood leave his head and ecstasy tingled at the root of his small testicles. He brought his thighs up and closed around Nikki's head, pressing her hard onto his shaft as he started to dry cum. His stomach tensed up and he buckled inwards, both hands holding Nikki firmly on his little prick as waves of pleasure flashed through his body. Nikki also erupted as she pinched her clit hard bucking onto the mattress of the bed, her tongue pressing Josh's cock hard against the roof of her mouth not willing to let go. It took a moment for Josh to release her from his grip, his fingers held onto her hair so tightly, clenched so hard he had the marks of his own fingernails imprinted in the palm of his hands. Nikki looked up at Josh and cooed almost melodically, "MMMmmm I think you liked my little present huh?", she teased. "Oh wow!" Josh exhaled, "That was awesome!" Not giving up the opportunity the boy quickly asked, "Can I have some more yummy cream?" Nikki spared no time as she got onto her knees and moved up next to Josh, "Move in under me then" she instructed the eager little boy who quickly manoeuvred himself underneath her. He tucked his shoulders in and scooted further down positioning his face right below Nikki's furry patch of pubic hair. She looked down at Josh between her cleavage, the boys gaze locked onto the glistening lips of her pussy. Nikki spread her knees and parted them wider to lower herself over Josh's face. Josh brought his arms up behind Nikki's thighs and held her for leverage pulling her down onto his open mouth. She gasped, feeling him grip around her pussy lips with his teeth as he softly dug into her sex biting down gripping with his mouth. He knew from seeing her before that when Nikki made this "yummy cream" she would convulse and jerk a little. His most primary concern was not to let a single drop go to waist so what better way to be sure then to grip down hard on her so that she didn't escape. "Aaahhhhh", Nikki let out a soft exhale as pleasure swept her from the very centre of her being. She felt Josh push his tongue between her slit, curling his tongue and hooking the tip to scoop at the opening of her vagina. For someone so young he was doing an outstanding job at providing her pleasure. She looked down past her breasts and watched the little boy, his eyes closed, devouring her pussy. Josh continued to lap his tongue stroking the tip continuously through her slit over and over. Just as the little boy felt the saltiness leave her freshly licked and soft inner walls he sucked harder on her giving cunt, feeding from her and drinking her juices. Nikki knew it wasn't going to take long before she let go of the flood gates and fed Josh with her cum. She was trying to hang on to the feeling for as long as she could. She made the mistake of looking towards her right. Against the wall a dressing table with a mirror. She saw her reflection in the mirror, kneeling on the bed. Behind her were 2 little feet sticking up and small legs trailing at just the right distance away for the boys head to be directly under her. She arched her back moving her clit further down to meet with Josh's mouth. The 5 year old continued his assault unwavering from the motion of lapping her delicious sauce. She readied herself to for the build up to the orgasm but in a sudden jolt of electricity her grip of control was lost. Josh's teeth grazed against her clit and he gripped at her flesh, holding her little button by his teeth. He viciously rubbed his tongue hard against her tip sending jolts of current through her. Her thigh muscles contorted sharply as moaned loudly almost falling. Her hands stopping her as she locked her elbow, shaking and trembling, avoiding falling on her young little devourer. Thick cum oozed out of her pussy quickly meeting Josh's tongue before it could even materialise into a drip. Her eyes shut tight, the only sound she could hear was of the boy between her legs feasting on her. Josh had his mouth open darting his tongue into her opening and lapping her with long drawn out motions with his tongue, even licking past her clitoris and wetting her pubes with each lick. The sound of a hungry boy feeding on her so greedily only added to the excitement and Nikki felt a charge explode again between her legs. "OHHHH MY GAAAAAHHHHD!!!" she shouted, her back bending backwards, with her pussy pushed harder against Josh's mouth. Josh felt he could impress her at this point, as though getting Nikki to this climactic point wasn't enough, he positioned his right hand in a way so that he could slide his thumb down her crack. The boy hooked his thumb and pushed it straight into her ass, stabbing at her up to his knuckle. He pulled upwards to stretch and gape open her asshole. The sudden and violent intrusion blew Nikki to another level. Driven by her own subconsciousness she moved her right hand down between her legs, disrupting Josh as he was suckling on her pussy, shoving four of her fingers into her vagina. She looked down and met Josh's eyes as she felt the little boy push his other thumb into her ass. Both thumbs hooked into her ass now pulled upwards away from Josh, she felt like a fish hooked onto a lure. Being submitted in such a way by a 5 year old finally took her over the edge. She knew she was going to squirt and squirt heavy. "Get ready baby..." she made her 5 year old abuser aware. Josh watched as Nikki dug her four fingers deep into her pussy then as if pulling back on a plastic lid of a tin can, Nikki peeled back, pulling at her opening and gaping cunt. The boy watched as her pussy opened up to his view. Time almost slowed as he witnessed the soft and bright pink skin unfold. He saw her inner wall as it pulled into the centre, in a hole, where no light escaped. Nikki dug the fingers of her left hand gripping the mattress hard as she exploded. Pure ecstasy invaded her body as pins and needles riddled her every nerve incredibly and pleasurably. Josh opened his mouth wide to catch the stream as she erupted. He moved and darted his head to catch any and all of what she gave him. Nikki's whole body jerked and her muscles dance in a tremor of energy as she orgasmed multiple times all the while feeding Josh exactly what he wanted. After it subsided, Nikki looked down the length of her torso. Josh completely soaked looking up at her. She took a few seconds and caught her breath, "Wow...", she said. "Wow!", Josh replied. Only the sound of Nikki breathing deeply filled the room when Josh leaned forward saying out loud his thoughts, "...so is there more?" He was able to plug his lips around her lips and quickly started to suckle on Nikki. The movement around her sensitive clit made Nikki yelp, "Ohhhh God Josh Nooo!!" she resisted. Being aware of his innocence and what his reaction might be, she made sure that statement was said laughing so as not to concern him or worry him the slightest. "Baby you are so good but Nikki has to rest!" she laughed. "Ohhhh common!", Josh teased as he tried to pull into her once again not realising the sensitivity that ached between her legs. Nikki playfully kicked and pushed off Josh, pulling herself away from the boy. Josh quickly sat up and grabbed Nikki's thighs pulling himself quickly towards her again, shoving his head between her legs. She stopped him just as he was about to plant his mouth onto her mound by holding his forehead against the palm of her right hand. Both Josh and Nikki started to play fight, with Josh trying to get at her pussy and Nikki trying to push him away. They snaked and wriggled on the mattress until Nikki had no choice but to exercise her exit by falling off the mattress to get away from him. She scrambled together whatever energy was left in her legs and got up quickly composing herself. "You, my little man, need to go get yourself sorted!", she switched to responsible adult mode. "It's your birthday today!" "Yay!", Josh rejoiced at the notion and climbed off the bed. He ran past Nikki and got to the door stopping abruptly. Nikki watched him turn around and run back to her. He opened his arm wide and embraced Nikki, hugging her closely. Josh wrapped his arms around her, his height so small at his age, it naturally wrapped around her bottom. His face just making it above Nikki's soft patch of fur on her pubic mound, he pressed his right cheek against the bottom of her belly and breathed in with a big smile. Nikki loved his embrace and held him to her, her pubes tickling his chin. Josh looked up locking with Nikki's eyes and thanked her, "Thank you for my present, I really liked it" "Just wait until the main event," Nikki promised. Josh turned to run out of the room again as Nikki tapped him on his butt. Nikki wrapped a towel around herself and headed for the shower. -------------------------- The day progressed rather quickly due to the shopping for items and other things required for the party. Their final stop before returning home was the grocery store. Phil left it to Josh to pick out the snacks and desserts and drinks in the grocery store, who much to Nikki's surprise was very sensible. Josh was not the typical 5 year old who, she expected, would pick anything and everything from the confectionary isle for example. He was picky and very calculating for his age. He also was quite considerate. He knew a couple of his friends ate hot food and liked savoury more than sweets so he insisted at getting a combination of mild and spicier chips. He also picked a selection of dips but ensured that at least a couple of them were of the hot salsa variety. For a moment, whilst in the grocery store, she paused and admired Phil who was unaware that she was staring. She knew that Josh owed his sensibility and his, for a better word - maturity, at such a young age, to Phil. She felt incredibly proud of her long time friend for what he has achieved in his life. To have a child is one thing but to be a single parent without support is something else. She knew if it were her in his position, the strain of it all would have changed her completely as an individual. Not Phil though. He was exactly as she remembered him. Kind, generous, soft, intelligent and ever so humbled by all that he had - the good and the bad. After the food and drinks were purchased they loaded up the car and drove home. Phil drove into his drive way just in time as the delivery truck from a local patisserie pulled in and parked at the side of the street. The deliverymen stepped out and one of them had an electronic tablet. Pulling on his stylus pen which was tucked away behind his right ear he walked over to Phil. "Mr. Adams?" he asked "Yes." Phil asked, "Cake delivery for 27 Hanesway Drive?" "Yes sir," the man replied, "Sign here please" As Phil was signing the tablet Josh tugged at his shirt somewhat surprised, "Dad, what sort of cake is it?" "Have a look" Phil winked at his son. Josh extended his hand to Nikki and they walked quickly together to the back of the truck to investigate just as the other deliveryman was opening the roller door. There in front of them stood a life size rendition of Ben 10, made entirely out of sponge and cream, chocolate and icing. "Ohhh WOW!!" Josh shouted. He let go of Nikki's hand and became ecstatic, jumping around, punching his fists in the air, acting his age. Nikki clapped in delight and celebrated with Josh excitedly, "That is so cool Josh! I am SO jealous!" she complimented his cake. Both deliverymen carefully carried the cake in through the house and placed it on the dinner table in the dining room before congratulating Josh and leaving. "Right!" Phil said, "Josh, go upstairs and play while Nikki and I get things sorted before your friends start arriving OK?" "Sure dad" As Josh disappeared up the stairway Nikki turned to Phil and asked, "Why so quiet?" "Who me?" he tried to cover up the obvious. "Stop being a girls blouse and spill it" she said quite sternly. Phil sighed, "Well because I was thinking," he paused, "That this will all end soon" Nikki didn't respond and kept quiet. "I just love how you are with Josh and," he hesitated, "I love how you are with ... with me" Nikki saw Phil swallow hard, "I love everything about you Nikki and I guess..." As if wanting to ease his pain, Nikki stepped in, "I love you too Phil" "I know, I know," Phil replied almost missing entirely what Nikki had just said, "It's silly of me to even think.... wait, what!?" "I love you" Nikki repeated again for his benefit, in a very matter of fact. Phil looked dumb founded and stared back blankly. "What? Cat got your tongue?" Nikki laughed. "Well..." Phil cleared his throat, "I just wasn't uhhh..." "Look Phil," Nikki needed to clarify, "I love you more than I have loved any man..." "But?" Phil added. "But I want to know what your expectation of love is?" Nikki asked. "I just don't want you to go" Phil felt like a little boy pleading. Nikki saw how he felt by his body language and walked up to Phil giving him a warm long hug. After a short pause she held his hands and spoke, "Phil I regret that this will end also, but only for this weekend." Phil looked up at her inquisitively. Nikki continued, "I don't want this to end either. I have always loved you as a dear friend and I do most certainly sense that there is something more but I have to consider my life and what I have going for me also" Phil slouched a little showing a heavy disappointment. "That is not to say that we cannot happen, it is simply not the right time Phil." Nikki added, "But if this makes you feel any better and I do hope it does then I just wanted to say this," pausing before continuing Nikki cleared her throat. "I have fallen in love with you and Josh, a love that is more than just friends." Nikki held Phil's hand and pressed against them to show sincerity in her voice, "I want this to continue but I don't want a commitment yet, safe to say, that I know you and Josh are mine and for me to cherish, just as I am to you but without an actual relationship" "You always knew exactly what you wanted Nikki," Phil admired, "and I understand" "So," Phil looked into Nikki's eyes, "This will happen again?" "Ofcourse silly!" Nikki slapped his right shoulder in jest, laughing, "You have me addicted!" Both felt a sense of relief that the discussion concluded with an equal understanding and at no great loss. Phil was more at ease knowing that although Nikki was not committed in a traditional sense, that she was committed in her own way. This was good enough for him. They talked and laughed about their younger days reminiscing their past as they organised the decorations and readied the food for the guests to arrive. Just as they were finishing up the last little things the doorbell rang. ------------------------ Nikki left Phil to answer the door and greet the guests as she went upstairs to prepare herself. She wanted to be a surprise for all of Josh's friends and the first impression she wanted to achieve was that of breathless wonder. She saw Josh with his headphones on busy on his Xbox playing a game. Knocking on his door to get his attention she stepped inside and waited for Josh to take his headphones off. "One of your friend is here honey," Nikki informed the little boy who quickly pulled away from his headphones with a big smile. "Oh cool! Thank you Nikki!" he quickly jumped passed her and ran towards the stairwell, running to greet his first guest. Nikki started to feel butterflies in her stomach as the realization set in. "The time was near," she thought, "Pretty soon others will start arriving and the moment she had been waiting for will begin" Walking into her room she shut the door behind her and leaned back against it, closing her eyes. Nikki pictured herself standing in front of a group of boys with what she had planned to wear. Her pussy started to feel moist as her juices started to flow. "Not yet!" she fought to shake herself out of her fantasy. Laughing she thought herself easily distracted. Nikki stepped towards the cupboard where she had hung her dress she had chosen to wear. Pulling out the hanger she admired the dress hanging in front of her. It was a red, one piece low plunge halter mini dress, made of silk. Nikki pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it on the bed. Unbuttoning her jeans she quickly slid out. Next she removed her socks and took off her white cotten underwear. She bent over and shuffled her hand inside the front pouch of her travel bag pulling out a red lace string thong. Slipping it on, Nikki turned to look at the dressing mirror in the corner of the room. Only a small transparent triangular material stretched across the front of the thong. The red lace sitting just atop covering her labia leaving her patch of fur completely exposed. Only a thin string ran from the bottom for the lace between her legs which made no attempt at covering her anus. Taking the dress off the hanger Nikki pulled it down over her head, sliding into it and tucking at the sides for it to fit cosely on her. The low plunge halter neck barely covered her chest as it draped on her shoulders just covering the rings of the areola on her breasts. This left the entire mid-section of her chest completely bare showing her cleavage in its full glory with half of each round globes sitting firmly on top. The silky red material hung from her nipples and dropped lower only meeting just past her belly button. The silk wrapped tightly around her frame defining her tightly well toned curve as her hip met her thighs. Being a mini dress it only sat just an inch further past her groin barely covering her butt when looking from behind. To match the dress she put on a pair of high heel red shoes that were open toe. The thin stiletto heels added a good two inches to her already taller than average height. The back muscles of her thighs firmed with the curvature forced by the heels and her butt tucked in tighter to accentuate the shape of her butt cheeks. "Very sexy," she thought, "Just perfect for the little ones," she said out loud feeling the tickle at the tip of her clitoris growing. Nikki touched up her makeup and combed her hair, tidying up a few strands that had moved out of order. The plan, as discussed with Phil, was to wait for the boys to all arrive. He would then send Nikki a txt message giving her a queue. It wasn't long. Nikki only waited about fifteen minutes before the txt arrived. She was busy responding to a work related email on her phone when the txt interrupted her. "The email can definitely wait," she grinned excited. Opening her door she could hear Josh and a group of boys downstairs talking loudly. She swallowed hard. Looked down her dress, straightening it in anticipation and walked down the hallways towards the stair case. As she descended she could hear Josh talking about her. She stopped, a little curious about his comments, and listened. "Oh and she is so cool!" Josh told his friends, "She has this awesome bod!" "You know Sarah's mom?" he asked his friends, "Well..." he paused, "Think 10 times better!" Nikki heard him say followed closely by audible agreements from the rest. "Doesn't look like I will need to up-sell myself," she laughed as she reached the bottom of the stairway. The boys were in the living room past the open plan Kitchen and Dining room. Nikki walked down the hallway and entered through the living room doorway interrupting Josh in the sales pitch he was giving his friends about her. She acted very casual and as though she was not at all the centre of attention. On the contrary, everyone in the room went quiet as she entered and every one of the boys watched her, head to toe, as she walked in almost dislocating their jaw in amazement with open mouths. "Hey Josh!" she waived as she walked up to him. Admittedly Josh himself was a little surprised to see Nikki simply because of the way she looked. His expression was brief as it was overtaken by the expression of pride and arrogance quickly. He was like the kid that owned the best bike in the street or had the best kite in the park that all the boys envied. He was the man who drove the super-car down his street and all the dads would curse under their breath jealous of his achievements. He was the boss and he was loving it. The brief awe and amazement that Josh expressed was evident to Nikki. It was also evident that he felt like a cocky little shit suddenly knowing that Nikki was his "toy". Nikki winked at Josh indulging him in his moment of victory in front of his friends. She wanted to boost his ego as high as she could and let him feed off her energy emotionally and literally! Nikki bent down and placed her hands on Josh's shoulders, giving him a kiss on his cheek, leaving a subtle mark of her lipstick on his skin. She seductively looked at his friends and smiled, "Hi boys" She caught a couple of them engrossed, staring at her ass as it curved over while she was bending. The others that were making eye contact looked as though they were trying to remember how exactly to say hello back to her in their stunned state. A few "Uhhh..." and some "ummmm..." followed by shy red faces. Nikki turned and saw Phil standing in the kitchen near tray of drinks he was preparing. He was grinning from ear to ear shaking his head. He loved how she toyed with them. She whispered in Josh's ear, "Keep talking honey, you're doing awesome" as she straightened and walked towards Phil. She made sure her hip swayed to capture all the boys gazes as she slowly made her way to Phil. None of them seemed at all aware that Phil was watching them staring at Nikki's ass. Everyone of them studied her figure as she walked away from them watching her long legs reaching all the way up to the back of her thigh. Her height in those stilettos compared to the boys made the crease of her butt cheek very visible under the mini dress. They were all in a state almost trance like as they swallowed slowly the vision before them. As she got closer to Phil, he laughed, "You are wicked, you know that?" "I do aim to please sweetie," Nikki laughed back. She stood next to Phil looking towards the boys. Phil looked Nikki up and down commenting, "You look amazing" "And you know what?" she added to his statement. "What?" "I did it all for the boys," she leaned over placing her elbows on the kitchen counter and holding her hands together. Done deliberately so that the dress would ride up behind her, exposing her bare bottom. Phil couldn't ignore it, "Are you even wearing any underwear?" "Phil!," Nikki acted surprised at the question, "Darling, I am a lady! Of course I'm wearing underwear!" She was standing just behind the kitchen counter so the boys could only see the side of her right leg. All of them, not having stopped watching her, saw her dress riding up her sides as she leaned forward talking to Phil. Her firm long legs further emphasising the sexual attraction oozing out of her. Phil watched the intensity of their stare, "How is it that you can do this with boys so young?" "Just because they're young doesn't mean they aren't curious Phil," Nikki replied whilst adding, "..and inside every boy is a genetic code that revolves around thousands of years of evolution which dictates..." she paused. Laughing she continued, "I'm going to sound very Discovery channel'esque," she said, "but at the most basis of our species is the need to survive, and humans have done so by hard labour and mostly reproduction. As curious as boys are, that curiosity can be guided to further indulge the code within every boys DNA that holds that need to learn more about the opposite sex even before they know what reproduction actually means. The need to explore their sexuality and perhaps awaken what only lies dormant," again she paused, "Well, at least in my opinion anyway." "Wow," Phil nodded, "I won't argue with that." "Why else would boys instinctively play with their cocks when its hard in the morning or look at a woman who wears very revealing clothes?" Nikki made her point further. "A fawn learns to walk within minutes of its birth because they are programmed to in their DNA. Just as a little boy would open the legs of a woman and want to smell and sample her sex and fuck her if he could. Our minds just need a little more guidance is all," she concluded in a matter of fact. "Fuck Nikki," Phil swallowed sporting a semi erection, "You literally take my breath away talking like that" "God you're easy!" Nikki laughed seeing his un-easiness trying to keep from getting a full erection, "I actually just made all that shit up" "Well, it makes sense!" Phil replied, then asked, "So if you have done this for the boys then what about me?" "You, my sweet heart, I have plans for," Nikki answered without giving him any further clues. She looked back at the boys who were obviously still engrossed in the details of what Josh was telling them about her. From the whispering and the reactions of amazement on their faces no doubt he had already progressed onto the arm fucking and the elbow rubbing against her pussy. Nikki would be lying if she said she wasn't feeling the pressure of it all. Between her legs was a very damp thong and the thin string pushing into her slit was completely soaked. "Excuse me honey," Nikki squeezed Phil's hand, "I need to go mingle." She walked over towards the boys who tried quickly to hide the fact that they were staring, failing miserably, to which Nikki thought was rather cute. Walking up to Josh she stood next to him, placing her hand on the opposite shoulder and pressing her hip softly against the boy, "So are you going to introduce your friends to me Josh?" "Oh sure!" Josh was expelling excitement as he pointed, from right to left, the group that formed an unorganised circle of friends. "This is James, Richard, Abdul, Chang, Sam, Tyrone, Obasi and Timmy." Nikki focused on each name making sure she applied her memory recall theory she had picked up in her courses from her profession. "Wow, such lovely names and we have a mix of nationalities here I see," she smiled to all the boys who were still looking very shy. "I tell you what, why don't each of you tell me a little bit about yourselves and I will tell you all a little bit about me," she made eye contact with them all, "OK?" "Why don't you start first James, Tell me how old are you and where are you from?" James looks at his friends as if silently collecting courage and then looked up at Nikki, "I'm 5 years old and I'm from Texas. My mom and dad came here to work so...." becoming shy again he stopped. "That's cool, when did your mom and dad come here?" Nikki pressed. "Oh ummmm, last year," James replied. "Awesome. Ok thank you James," she acknowledge and moved onto the next, "So Richard, tell me, how old are you and where are you from?" Richard seemed a bit more confident, "I'm 5 years old and I just live down the road. I have always been here." "Cool, so you're like Josh then huh? This is your neighbourhood?" Nikki enquired. "Yes" "Neat," Nikki was about to move onto Abdul when she was interrupted by Richard, "Umm Miss?" "Call me Nikki sweet heart," she asked Richard, "Yes?" The boy cleared his throat, "Can I say that you sure are pretty." "Oh thank you!," Nikki laughed, "You're very handsome yourself," she added, "In fact I'm a very lucky woman being surrounded by so many handsome young boys" She could see that her compliments were taking the desired effect as the body language of the boys indicated they were becoming more relaxed by her presence. Nikki looked at the next boy who looked indian but with a name like Abdul seemed most likely of middle eastern origin. He was a smaller and thinner frame then the rest, similar to Chang, but a bit more leaner and thinner. He had big dark eyes and his hair as black as onyx. "Abdul right?" she asked, "Am I saying that right? Abdul?" she exaggerated the pronunciation. Abdul nodded. "How old are you sweetie?" she inquired. "I'm 4," the boy replied softly. "Abdul, that's a nice name," she paused acting as though she was guessing, "Is that a Muslim name?" The boy nodded again. Judging by his accent he was certainly not American so Nikki asked, "Where are you from Abdul? What country did you come from?" "I'm from Pakistan" he replied. "Wow so this place must be so different! Do you like America?" she wanted to converse a little more with him. Nikki knew that being a Muslim meant he had very strict guidelines when it came to obedience and following the literature of the Quran. Exploring ones sexuality was an extreme offence, as far as she was aware. This made the act of corruption even more inviting. "I like it here but its colder than home," Abdul was very soft spoken but Nikki found his accent and his innocence even more appealing. "Some of my friends are Muslims," Nikki comforted him, sensing his hesitance of accepting the attraction that was building towards her. "I know we have some very different beliefs," she added, "But do you think you could have me as your friend Abdul?" she asked. "Yes," Abdul replied. Nikki gave him a soft smile and winked, to which the boy quickly looked away, trying to ignore her advance. Nikki knew he was from a family who was very strong in faith to their religion, to have a boy so young try his best to conform within the boundaries of Islam at such a young age. This challenge was going to be well worth the effort. She was going to have to work on him and she liked that idea. She looked at Chang, who was obviously of orient descent. "Hi Chang," she smiled. "Hi" "How old are you honey?," she asked. "I'm 4." Nikki picked up on a fresh accent again "...and where are you from?" "I'm from Taiwan," Chang replied. "Did you also move here recently?" Nikki asked. "Yes, I have been here.... not long," he replied in broken english. "Well its a pleasure to have you here Chang, you are adorable," she complimented him admiring his smooth, almost doll like features. "Hi Sam," she smiled and waved at the next boy. "Hi," he replied all coy. "How old are you and where are you from?" "I'm 5 years old and I'm from here, I grew up here." he said. "Another local huh? Did you know I also grew up here?" Nikki made sure she gave out information to make a common connection with him and others who were local. "What about you Tyrone?" she looked towards the boy standing beside Sam. "I'm 4 years old and I'm from here too," he replied. "Wow cool, we're all practically family then," she laughed then continued, "Awesome what you have done with your hair," Nikki remarked. Tyrone had his frizzy hair knitted in tight braids and it suited him very well. "Makes you look very smart," she added. Next she looked at Obasi. He had incredibly dark skin. If she were to hazard a guess, Nikki would say that he was Northern African. He was very lean, with a wide nostril set and big thick lips. "Obasi right?" she guessed pronouncing his name. The boy nodded. "Tell me about yourself?" she asked. Josh stepped in, "He doesn't speak much English." "Oh?" "Yeah," he continued, "Obasi is from a place called Sudan. His mom and dad brought Obasi to America and the teachers say that its really sad." "Why is it sad?" Nikki asked curious about his situation. "Obasi's real mom and dad were killed by some bad people," Josh explained. Nikki felt horrified, "Oh my god! I'm so sorry to hear that," she extended her hand and took Obasi's hand, holding it. She moved closer to him, now more centre to the group of boys and leaned down giving Obasi a hug. She cuddled the boy pushing his face right between her breasts, nestling him in her cleavage. Her dress riding up as she bent forward cuddling the little boy, allowing the rest to get a great view up her legs and between her thighs. Josh, James and Richard got a glimpse of her labia squeezed between her legs and a thin red string pushing through and disappearing back into the crack of her butt. She looked down at Obasi and caressed his head, his tight frizzy hair rough and wiry. Nikki pressed his chin upwards to face her and spoke to him directly, "I will make you feel better, I promise, do you understand? Make you feel happy?" she told him. He nodded, "Yes, happy," he smiled having just had his face flushed in her cleavage. "Good," Nikki confirmed, "and now finally... Timmy right? Where are you from Timmy and how old are you?" "I'm 4 and I moved here from California." Timmy was very blonde and Nikki had to compliment him, "I love the colour of your hair Timmy." The boy blushed and softly replied, "Thank you" They were all very sweet but Nikki noticed that they were also very curious. Given their childish desire to quench their curiosity, she was sure that she would be able to bring out their eagerness, excitement and indulge them to show her what little monsters they could be. Grinning she asked the group, "So now I know a little bit about each of you, is there anything you would like to know about me?" Sam spoke, "How old are you?" "I'm 33 year's old," Nikki replied. "There was a long pause so she added, "I was wondering, Did you tell them about me Josh, about what you've been doing with me?" "Yeah, I little bit," Josh looked a little embarrassed unsure if it was the right move. "That's good honey, that's OK. I want you to," she reassured him. "What do you think guys?" she asked the boys again, "Do you think what Josh has done with me so far sounds cool?" A lot of very shy but wandering eyes was the only response she got. Seeing how they were primarily focused on how she looked, Nikki changed the subject to just that. "So what do you think of my dress?" Again, no response but a lot of eyes looking at her top to bottom. She could tell they were silently admiring every inch of her. "No? Nothing?" she asked looking rather disappointed, "I chose to wear this dress 'cause I thought you guys would like it but I guess not. I better go back and change," she said playing out with sadness in her voice. Suddenly Richard, Josh, Tyrone and Tim yelled, "No!" "Oh? So you guys approve? Do you like it?" she asked to which they nodded firmly. "What about you Abdul?" she turned to the Muslim boy. As he looked up at her she turned to her side so that he was to her left and ran her left hand down her hip and over her butt. Continuing down her left thigh stopping at the extent of her reach, then moved her hand upwards again, rubbing the top of her left thigh making her skirt raise in the front so that the hem would get pulled just enough for them to see her patch of fur sitting atop her thong. The vision was very brief as her hand passed on top of the dress and the satin quickly fell back in place but it was long enough, even to a group of 4 and 5 year old boys, to comprehend exactly what they saw. Each of them feeling the twitch of something awaking and a tickle at the tip of their cocks. "Mmmm... I can tell you like it honey," she smiled, "It's OK, you won't get into trouble if you say you do." She could see Abdul gathering his courage then he said, "I do." "Good." Nikki was firm replying but she wanted to make it clear to him that she meant what she said. She then had a sudden thought. "In fact," she spoke to the rest of them,"None of you will get into trouble here with me ok? As of now," again she was very firm delivering her rules,"Anything you think would normally get you into trouble with me will be the complete opposite ok?" She waited and looked at them. They were all still so young and so naive. Each of Josh's friends were new to this feeling of sexual attraction. They knew what they wanted to do but could not express it. Nikki had to make it obvious for them so she asked Josh, "Honey, what have you told them about me so far, about the fun stuff we have done?" "I told them how the way back from the airport, you let me look up your skirt.." he answered. "That's it?" she asked. "Yeah, that's it so far." "Alrighty then!" Nikki smiled realising her previous assumption was totally wrong. She looked at his friends again. "Do you guys think what Josh did was cool?" They all nodded and smiled. "Who would like to see between my legs?" she asked feeling like a pre-school teacher in front of a classroom as they all, including Abdul, fist pumped into the air shaking their open hands as if to be chosen first. "Obasi, give me your hand," she showed him her hand, "Your hand?" "How old are you honey?" She asked the Sudanese boy. "I am 4 years," he replied in a heavy accent. Nikki placed his hand on the inside of her right knee and started to move it up further and further. The rest watched intensely, their eyes locked on his hand and hers as it trailed up her inner thigh. At almost the tip of where her thigh met the seam of her silk dress she stops, removing her hand. "Go on," she told Obasi,"Its OK, keep going." The boy moved a little closer so that he could raise his hand further up and reach under her dress. He cupped Nikki's dress in his hand and pushed it up to expose her privates. The small red triangle of her micro bikini thong and her neat patch of pubic hair came into full view of the 9 little boys as they bunched closer together in front of her to see it. Obasi lifted his other hand and raised it up towards her pubes, softly touching her there. Nikki giggled as she felt his little fingers brush up against her pubes. His almost black complexion a stark contrast against her skin. She saw Richard subconsciously moving his hand in an outward direction and opened her legs a little more, turning just a little towards him, which prompted him to continue moving his hand up towards Obasi's hand. He too felt her patch of fur and smiled. Seeing the invitation quite clearly the others followed suite and each boy pushed their hands in, feeling her pubes. Much to Nikki's delight the smaller, more fragile Abdul also made an effort. The boy pushed in a little rougher than the others groping. Each boy rubbed and squeezed the flesh atop her pubic bone really getting a good feel of a mature woman. Josh remained back simply watching with a big smile on his face. "Look at you all smart and proud," Nikki laughed. The others giggled as Josh shrugged feeling cocky. "Cool huh guys?" he boasted to his friends, "I told ya." "See," Nikki slowly pushed their hands away and composed her dress back over her groin, "No one got into trouble right?" "That was cool!" James said out loud showing his excitement. "Yeah it was awesome!," Tyrone agreed with the others also vocal in a similar fashion. Nikki turned to Josh, "I'm going to go see your dad about something now Josh," and she asked, "Why don't you continue telling your friends the things you have done with me and I will come see you guys a little bit later on, OK?" The birthday boy grinned from ear to ear, "Oh I will, they will be so blown away!" His friends showing an expression of amazement realising that this evening is going to get better. ----------------------- A note to my readers... Hi all It has been some time since I have posted. Life took its own coarse of action and I had some adjusting to do before I could get back into writing. I originally was going to keep this at 10 chapters with this being the final. It has taken me some time to get going on this chapter as it has been hard to find discreet time to write this story. I have also realised that there is just soooo much content to "this day" in celebrating Josh's birthday with the other friends of his that I simply won't to justice to anyone who has been waiting to read more. I am releasing this as Chapter 10 but it certainly looks like now that this is not the end of the story. More to come. Thank you to everyone that has written to me and have written to me without any expectation other than simply to let me know how much they have enjoyed my writing. It means a lot and has been a huge motivation. As always, if you have any feedback, good or bad - please email me at asstrauth (at) gmail (dot) com. Yours Nikki xx 15/03/2013

The Eager Little Sister By Perry Jones ([email protected]) Note to reader: This is a continuing story. Comments to the author are always welcomed and appreciated. PJ Chapter Four He was there. He was wearing his shorts and running up and down the court, dribbling the ball and shooting. There were a couple of other boys with him. Barbra climbed the bleachers about halfway and sat down, watching. She rested her chin in her hand, her eyes on her brother as he ran back and forth. Rick saw her and wave and she was pleased to be recognized by him before he wouldn't even look her way when he was playing basketball. Half an hour later, the other boys took off and Rick came over to her, sitting a few bleachers below her. He was sweating from the workout. "I've been looking all over for you." she said. "I've been busy today." "I thought..."Barbra blushed slightly. "I thought you...after last night, I thought "Barbra, you're my sister." He said. "I can't spend all my time with you." "Oh, Ricky!" she said, tears coming into her sparkling eyes. "I thought you loved me!" "Barbra, you're my sister." he said again. "I can't go around school with you. That would be freaky." "You said you wanted to...to peek at me." Barbra noticed the direction of his eyes. Her tears stopped and a hesitant smile started on her face. Rick was looking at her knees. He could see part way past her skirt, see the smooth creaminess of her slender thighs. Slowly, Barbra opened her knees, letting her brother gaze between them. She felt a small shiver flow through her as she sat there. Rick gazed between his sister's thighs, looking at the tightness of her panties. His cock was beginning to swell inside his shorts. Barbra scooted her little ass forward and, after glancing about to make sure they were alone, spread her legs very wide. "I'm peeking now." Ricky said in a slightly husky voice. She noticed he was not wearing a jockstrap. The head of his cock was becoming visible and she fixed her dark eyes upon it. "You're getting a hard-on, Ricky." She murmured softly., "Who wouldn't?" he replied, his eyes showing his growing excitement. "Looking up your dress would give the whole male population at school a hard-on." Barbra giggled. "Do you think so?" He nodded his head. "Would that make you happy, Ricky?" she asked. He grinned wickedly at her...imagine, every guy here walking around with a hard cock, just by looking, at you." "You want me to do that?" "Make their cocks hard?" he countered. "I'd love it!" "Okay," she said softly. "I told you I'd do anything you want of me, remember?" Ricky pulled the crotch of his shorts to one side and his now hard cock lurched free. Barbra stared at it, delighted as before. Her pussy began to pulsate in a nice way, becoming even more moist. "You're making my cunt wet." She said. "You keep my cunt wet, Ricky." "Wanna fuck?" asked, stroking a fist up and down his prick. Barbra looked around again, swiftly. "Here? Suppose someone saw us." "Who cares? He replied. "Maybe they could take their turn after I finish." Barbra looked at his face and realized her brother meant it. He really wouldn't care if some other boy fucked her. "Do you want that, Ricky?" she asked. "Would you want another boy putting his cock in my pussy? It wouldn't make you mad?" "I wouldn't get mad. I'd kinda enjoy it." Barbra shuddered. She didn't understand him. She wanted nothing to do with another boy but if that would make Ricky happy, make him love her then she would do what he wanted. Feeling shy, her eyes darting about the empty gym, she pulled her dress to her waist and, lifting her compact ass, slipped her panties off. She sat there, two bleachers above her brother, her legs wide, succulent pussy sweetly revealed. "Wanna fuck now?" He asked, his cock throbbing in his fist. "I gotta pee first," she said. "I'11 go with you." She held his hand as they went to the end of the huge room. Two doors leading into restrooms were there and Ricky pulled his sister to the boys room. Barbra did not resist. She saw the rows of urinals along one side, the stalls at the end. With a feeling of embarrassment, Barbra sat on one of the toilets and pissed into the bowl. Ricky stood in the doorway, watching. After she finished, he said, "Let's fuck in here." "The floor is dirty," she protested. "Don't worry." He slipped his shorts down to his knees and sat on the toilet she had vacated. His cock stood up strong, throbbing with a bead of pre-cum at the piss hole. "See? All you gotta do is sit on it, Barbra." She giggled as she straddled his hips. Holding her skirt about her small waist, she lowered her cunt to his cock. She felt her brother's prick stab into her slowly and she cooed in delight. Barbra sat down until the full length of his prick was buried into her tight, hot, wet pussy. She sat there for a moment, savoring the ecstasy of having him in her again. "Come on, fuck me, Barbra!" he urged, holding her hips. "Bounce up and down on my cock!" "Ooooo" she whimpered as the ecstasy boiled inside her sweet, shapely body. Barbra moved u~ and down on his lap, the smooth muscles in her thighs working in subtle motion. She lifted and lowered her pussy, riding his cock with soft squeals bubbling from her throat. She placed her hands on his shoulders to trace herself, leaning forward to kiss him in her passion. Barbra slipped her small tongue into her brother's mouth. The way he sucked at it increased her steaming passion. She bounced her rounded ass up and down, grinding against him by instinct. The ecstasy was the only guide she knew or needed. Barbra loved the way his cock stretched her pussy, the way it stuffed her. She could feel her brother's cock all the way in her stomach. Her tiny asshole puckered and flexed as she writhed and twisted on his cock. The sensitive nipples cupped inside her bra became swollen and very sensitive. Her nerves were on fire, burning and melting with the pleasure that flowed like sweet, boiling syrup. "Oooo, Ricky, Ricky!" she yelped in a small, tight voice. "Ohhh, I love this! I love the way your cock fills my pussy! Ohhhhh, I love it! Oo no, Ricky.. Ricky, I think I'm gonna.. come!" Ricky couldn't reply. He gritted his teeth as his sister gyrated her sweet little ass about, fucking up and down on his hard, throbbing prick in a wild, abandoned manner. Barbra gave a low wail of ecstasy as her cunt convulsed about his cock. Her small body shivered as she came and she began to grind her pussy even more furiously against his prick. She came long and hard and when she finished she could hardly move. Every must, every, bone in her sweet body seemed to have become like thick fluid. She slumped forward against him, panting, glowing. She felt her brother's hands move up and down her trembling thighs. She loved the way he caressed her, the way his hands felt on her naked flesh. She shivered as his hands moved along her smooth ass cheeks, his fingers tracing along her warm, enticing ass-crack.. She sat there for a while, feeling his cock throb -inside her still-pulsating pussy then she sat upright. "You didn't come!" she yelled. "I didn't feel you come, Ricky." "I almost did," he replied, cupping the small cheeks of her ass, his fingers digging into her firm, springy flesh. Barbra slowly began to pump up and down on his cock once more. "I'm gonna make you come, Ricky. I want you to come, too. I want to feel you come. "In your pussy?" "Why not?" Barbra wiggled faster. "It would be better than taking it out like last night." Barbra whipped her ass up and down in a frenzy, desperately wanting her brother to spew jism into her body. She wanted cum inside her more than anything in the world. Last night she had felt a little vacant because he had come onto her panties and lower belly. She felt as if he had withheld a vital something from her. This time, she resolved he was not going to take it away. She was going to get it into her body. His jism was a treasure to her, a treasure she wanted no one else to have but her. Barbra slammed up and down on his cock so fast and hard, it suddenly slipped free. She came down again and it speared someplace between her cunt and asshole. She yelped and thrust a hand between them to grab his cock, greedily trying to stuff it back into her burning cunt. "Wait, Barbra," Ricky grunted. She looked in puzzlement at him, holding the base of his prick in her fingers, her cunt hovering only an inch away. "Stand up," he said. Confused, Barbra got to her feet. Ricky gazed at her. "Hold your dress up. Barbra." Wondering what he wanted she pulled her dress to her waist. "Spread your legs." She did, standing before him spread wide Rick ran his hands up her thighs then around her lips and cupped her ass cheeks. "I'm gonna give your pussy a kiss, he said. "Oooo, the way you kissed Kelly's?" Barbra arched her hips forward, her eyes bright with pleasure as her brother leaned toward her She felt his lips press her pussy and she sighed. She could feel his mouth pressuring her distended clit. And as he kissed her cunt and pulled away, she gurgled in delight. She started to ask him to give her cunt another kiss when an idea suddenly came to her. Now you," she said in excitement. "Now me what?" "You stand up and let me sit there." They exchanged places and Barbra sat on the toilet with her brother before her, his cock hard and glistening with the juice from her cunt. The head was huge it seemed to her and it was seeping a clear liquid. She lifted one hand and cupped his balls fondling them gently. With her eyes gleaming, she leaned close and planted a moist kiss upon his dripping piss-hole. Then she looked up at her brother. "Do you-like that, Ricky?" "Oh, Barbra!" he grunted. "That was nice. Kiss my cock again" She pressed her lips to the swollen head of his prick, holding them there in a long, wet kiss. Her lips parted slightly and she tasted the moisture of him. A startling thing happened to Barbra at that instant. The taste of the clear fluid seeping from his piss-hole sent her mind reeling with intense pleasure. "Ooo, Ricky!" she squealed, grasping his cock in her other hand and looking up at him with dewy eyes. "I like that! Oooo, you taste good, Ricky!" "Put it in your mouth, Barbra!" he urged in a thick voice. "Put my cock inside your mouth!" Barbra sat gazing at her brother's cock. It gleamed with the slippery moisture from her cunt. She didn't understand how she could get his prick into her mouth, but decided if it would go into her cunt then surely it would fit into her mouth. Besides, that quick taste of him had sent her emotions soaring. She wanted more of it, much more. "I'11 lick it first." She said, running her tongue out. She probed the tip of her tongue at his piss-hole and again her mind reeled in ecstasy. Closing her warm lips about the tip of his cock, she flicked her tongue around his piss-hole. She felt a tremor in his balls and began to twist them lovingly. Opening her lips wider, Barbra found she could easily enough take that swollen head between them. Her tongue licked at the smoothness and she made soft, gurgling sounds in her throat as she sucked the head of his prick. But it wasn't good enough for Ricky. "Take it all in your mouth, Barbra!" "he gasped. "I wanna see what it feels like with all my cock in your mouth." Barbra's dark eyes were turned up toward her brother's face, her lips stretched. She didn't see how she could take any more of his cock, but she moved her beautiful sweet face forward. Rick, overcome by the sensation of his sister's wet, hot mouth on his prick, grabbed her by the side of the head with both hands. He began to thrust his cock in and out, filling her more and more. Barbra's dark eyes blazed up at him, desire and willingness in them. She sat there, still, her lips stretching on his throbbing prick and let her brother stab back and forth. More and more of his prick entered her mouth and she began to enjoy it. She could feel the powerful throb of his cock against her lips and tongue. As it went deeper and probed at her throat, she found her nose buried by the wiry hairs at the base, his balls resting on her chin. Rick held her face in his hands, looking down at her glowing eyes as he fucked her mouth. "Ohhh! Barbra! This feels. good" Your mouth is wet and hot! Oooohh, I like this! You've got my cock in your mouth. . I'm fucking you in your mouth, Barbra!" Barbra gurgled a reply, her eyes flashing her pleasure up at him. Her ecstasy of having her brother's cock in her mouth caused her pussy to twitch in a burning way. She could taste her cunt and his cock at the same time and it sent a hunger racing through her. She wanted to lick and suck at his prick, but he was fucking back and forth so swiftly, all she could do was hold still and let him. Still holding his balls, she ran her other hand around to cup one of his flexing ass cheeks. She found as much ecstasy in being fucked in the mouth as she had by taking his cock up her cunt. "Fuck you, Barbra," he grunted. "Fuck you in the mouth! Golly, I like this as much as your cunt!" Barbra detected a change in the way his cock felt in her mouth. There was a stronger, faster pulsation on her lips and it seemed as if his prick was becoming bigger and harder. Suddenly Rick gave a yelp, his cock deep inside her mouth. He started to pull free, but Barbra clutched at his balls and ass tightly, preventing him from pulling out. "Let go!" He yelled. "Let go, Barbra! I'm gonna come, Turn loose!" But Barbra clung to him desperately, her eyes filming over. He was not going to take it away from her this time. His prick jerked and a splash of jism spurted from the tip of his cock. It coated her tongue and the taste of it sent Barbra's mind reeling insanely. She gulped and swallowed his cum then caught another squirt. Again and again her brother shot into her mouth, coming like a fountain. Barbra's pussy exploded and she came even more powerfully than before. She groaned in ecstasy as she came and as her brother flooded her mouth. She could feel his balls drawing up in her hand and she lovingly fondled them while he came in her greedy mouth. She could not swallow fast enough and some of his pearl-white cum escaped her tight lips to run warmly to her chin. She held only the head of his cock between her lips now, her tongue licking in a frenzy at his dribbling piss hole. She, continued to come in an overwhelming way, her body shivering. Rick finally managed to pull his cock from his sister's clinging lips and she followed it with her tongue racing around his piss-hole. Then she let him go, looking up at him with shining eyes. "Was that good, Ricky? Did you like that?" "It was great, Barbra." "Ohhh, Ricky!" she said with feeling, hugging .her arms about his hips and holding his ass. She pressed her beautiful young face against big cock and balls, loving him. "I love you so much! I don't care if you are my brother, I love you!" Rick stroked his sister's hair, feeling tender toward her at this moment. "We better go, Barbra," she said after a moment. "Someone could come in and see this, you know." She released him and stood up. "I thought you wanted me to give all the guys a nice hard-on," she teased him. "Are you changing your mind?" "Hell no," he snorted. "It would be a blast!" She picked up her panties where they had been dropped. She started to slip them on then with a giggle, dangled them on the door of the stall. "There. That will make a few boys wonder, won't it?" Holding his hand, feeling the cool air flowing about her naked cunt under her dress, they left the gym. The school grounds were deserted by this time and as they walked away, they laughed and teased one another. Rick deliberately flipped his sister's dress up in back, revealing her sweet, round ass. Barbra giggled and jumped, shoving her dress back down. "Someone will see me!" she yelped. laughing. "That is some pretty ass, Barbra," he laughed and tried to flip her skirt again. "Let them see it." The next morning, Barbra was dressed and prepared for school. She lingered in the house, waiting for her brother. They had never actually walked to school together in quite a few months. But it was different now, she felt. Surely Rick would walk with her after what they had done with each other. "You still here?" he asked as he came into the room where she waited. "I wanted to walk with you," she said, smiling at him. "Aw, Barbra," he frowned. "You know I can't walk with my sister. What would the guys think?" "But Ricky..." "You don't want me to be a sissy, do you? Those guys will call me one if they see us together. Guys just don't hang around with their sisters." Once more she felt tears coming to her eyes. She looked at her brother, her heart filled with love for him. She didn't understand any of this male thing he talked about. Sisters didn't mind being with their brother at least none she knew of. Why did a guy hate to be seen with his sister? It was dumb, stupid, she thought. Barbra did not know that boys of her brother's age didn't want anything to do with girls at least most of them. They were wrapped up in boy things and had no time for girls. But Ricky was different, she felt. She loved him, loved him passionately. "Now don't start crying," he said. "I want to walk with you," she replied stubbornly. "Aw, Barbra," he mumbled, not wanting her to cry. He shuffled his feet about on the floor. She miffed, looking at him through tear- stained eyes. "Ricky," she said in a soft voice. "I'll let the guys peek under my dress. That is, if you want me to." "You'd really do it? If I walk to school with you, you'll do that?" She nodded, blushing. "I'll tell you what," he said, becoming interested now. "You take your panties off first." "Sure, right now." Barbra lifted her skirt and shoved her panties down. She stepped out of them, holding her pleated skirt about her waist. Rick gazed at his sister's succulent cunt for a moment then smiled, saying, "Don't wear your panties today." "Don't wear my... "You wanna walk to school with me or not?" Barbra tossed her panties to a nearby chair and let her skirt drop. She knew she would be embarrassed if anyone saw she was not wearing panties, but if this was what her brother wanted, she would do it. On the way to school she tried many times to take his hand, but he always drew away. She walked at his side, feeling the morning air breezing underneath her skirt. She felt strange to have her ass and pussy naked, knowing that anything could happen. She could stumble and fall, her dress flying high. Everyone would see she was naked under her clothes. She'd die with humiliation, she felt. At the gate to the grounds, Rick started to run off to meet friends. Barbra grabbed his hand Quickly. "Give me a kiss," she begged. "Aw, Barbra," he protested. "You wanna ruin my fucking reputation?" "What about my reputation if someone sees me naked this way?" she retorted with a trace of sudden anger at him. "I'm doing what you asked me to do... kiss me." He pecked her check and then raced away. Barbra walked slowly toward her classroom. She found it pleasant to have the air around her creamy little ass and, scantily haired twat. It gave her a delicious sensation and she decided to do it again. Ricky wouldn't have to ask her; she would go without her panties and surprise him. Barbra was careful to keep her knees together all morning long. She was terribly afraid someone would see under her skirt. During the lunch period, she did not hang about on the second-floor landing as usual, looking for Rick. After what he had said about boys peeking up at girls, she wasn't going to take any chances. Instead, she took a carton of milk and sat on the benches in the student center. She noticed Kelly coming toward her and for just a moment she felt dislike for the pretty blonde girl. "Hi," Kelly said cheerfully as she sat next to Barbra. "Is it okay if I sit with you?" "I don't care," Barbra replied. They sat there without speaking, but Barbra felt Kelly was anxious to talk to her. She didn't know the girl very well, only having seen her about the school. "Our brothers are over there," she said, pointing a finger. Barbra looked and saw Rick / and John grab-assing with a group of boys. "They talked to me earlier," Kelly said. Barbra felt jealousy stab inside her. She turned and looked at the pretty girl. "What about?" Kelly began to giggle, a flush growing on her face. "They wanna play with us," she said between giggles. Barbra didn't understand. "You know," Kelly giggled, hiding her mouth behind a hand. Her blue eyes flashed wickedly at Barbra. "I don't know," Barbra said. "They wanna play with us... under our dresses!" Then Kelly went into deliciously wicked giggles of pleasure. Anger came to Barbra. Ricky must have been talking about her, she thought. If he told what they had been doing together, she would hate him. She stared at Kelly. "I won't" Barbra began. "Aw, come on," Kelly pleaded. "They play with me that way all the time. John wants to see your pussy and Rick said it was okay." Now Barbra blushed a furious red. It was a mixture of anger and shyness. The anger became the stronger of the emotions. She turned to Kelly and stared at her. "Do you want to let them play with us?" "I love it," Kelly confessed. "I really feel good when they touch me." "Okay," Barbra replied, taking a deep breath, "I'll do it." "Rick said you would," Kelly said. "They want us to meet them over in the tall bushes next to the teacher's parking lot after school." Barbra spent the rest of the school day in a furious anger toward her brother. She couldn't concentrate on her studies, but it didn't really matter. She was an outstanding student anyway. At the end of the school, she had almost made up her mind to go straight home and the hell with Ricky. Yet, when school let out, she found herself walking toward the teacher's parking lot. There were still cars there and she sat on a nearby bench to wait. A few teachers came by and those that knew her waved. She waited for half an hour and finally the lot emptied of cars. After she had waited long enough, she decided the others weren't going to show up and she got to her feet and started toward the gate. "Where you going, Barbra?" She turned and saw John and Rick walking toward her. Behind them a few paces was Kelly. She waited. "We've got a good place," Rick said as they approached. "No one can find us and we can do what we want." He took his sister's hand and began pulling her with him. There was a tiny opening in the tall, thick shrubbery and Rick got on his hands and knees and crawled in, telling his sister to come on. She looked around and saw they were the only ones there. Getting down on her hands and knees, she started through. A soft giggle from behind came to her. "You didn't wear panties," Kelly said. A hand moved along her thigh and she turned her head to see John behind her. He ran his hand over the naked creaminess of her ass cheek and Barbra flushed, rushing through the opening after her brother. She found him waiting in a small clearing about eight feet square. They were totally concealed from prying eyes. She had never noticed this area before, but she didn't explore as much as Rick. She sat on the soft grass and pulled her knees to her chest, watching John and then his sister come through. Kelly kept up her childish giggles, sounding more naughty all the time. With all four in the clearing, it was a bit crowded. She saw Kelly's panties as she hugged her knees up to her chest. "Show John your cunt," Rick said suddenly without warning. Barbra shook her head. There was a deep flush. of embarrassment on her beautiful face. Without hesitation, John pulled his cock out and began to jack on it. Rick did the same and she looked from one to the other. She felt herself becoming excited, seeing those two cocks swell into hardness. Kelly opened her blouse, revealing two very small, but very shapely tits with pale pink nipples. Kelly flipped her panties off, still giggling. She then sat with her legs spread out before her, caressing her almost hairless cunt as she watched the boys jacking off. "Come on, Barbra," Rick insisted. "Open your knees so we can see your pussy Kelly is doing it and we're doing it." "No," Barbra said, shaking her head. "But you said you'd do anything I wanted," he reminded her. "If you don't wanna play this way then take your ass home. And you better not say anything about this." "Oh, Ricky!" Barbra sobbed. "Do I have to? Why can't we be by ourselves?" "Go on home, little baby!" he said, turning his eyes to watch Kelly working a finger in and out of her twat. "I'd rather play with Kelly anyway." Barbra let the warm tears flow from her eyes freely. She didn't want her brother mad at her. She wanted to do the things that gave him pleasure. In a shy way, she let her knees drop apart, feet crossed before her. Her dress was high and her snatch became revealed. "Play with it like Kelly is doing," John asked, pumping on his thick, hard cock. "Play with your cunt and feel yourself up, Barbra." Barbra Quickly decided if this was what her brother wanted her to do then she would do it. Flipping her skirt to her waist, she thrust a finger up her cunt and began finger-fucking herself. "This is childish," she said. "This is what little kids do." She was talking out of anger at her brother and also with a desire to let John and Kelly know she had more worldly knowledge than they. "Is that so?" John asked, pumping faster on his swollen cock. "Yes, that's so," she snapped at him, rubbing up and down on her clit. "Older kids fuck! They fuck each other and even ... kiss each other's things." "Oooo, Barbra!" Kelly giggled. "You really been fucked?" "Sure," she bragged. "Ricky fucks me all the time, don't you, Ricky?" "Damn right!" he grunted. "Hey, let John stick his cock up your twat, Barbra! Let John fuck you!" "Damn right!" Barbra agreed, flashing her eyes angrily at her brother. "Come on, John, fuck me! Let's stop this childish jacking off and fuck!" "I wanna watch!" Kelly squealed. "I wanna watch John fuck you, Barbra!" "Get a fucking crowd if you want," Barbra replied, sprawling on her back, legs wide apart. "Come on, John, don't waste that cock! Shove it up my cunt!" John was excited. His cock stood out thick and hard as he got between Barbra's thighs. You sure, Barbra?" be asked. "You sure you wanna fuck instead of jack off?" "Fuck me, damn you!" she hissed at him, grabbing for his prick. "1 want that big cock in my pussy! Fuck me with it and let my brother jack off! He can come on the fucking grass ...he can fuck his fucking fist ... he can kiss my fucking ass!" She lifted her hips and shoved John's cock to her pussy As the swollen head penetrated her cunt, Barbra gave a gurgle of pleasure. "Ohhh, John! I love your great big cock up, my little, tight, hot cunt! Golly, it's bigger than Ricky's cock! Ohhh, I'm just gonna love getting fucked by your big, sweet prick! Fuck It to me. Fuck that cock to my hot pussy, John!" She looked at her brother, her dark eyes glowing with the desire to make him angry, jealous. She would show him how much she loved fucking another boy instead of him. She began to grind her pussy against John's prick, the rough material of his pants tormenting the softness of her inner thighs. She grabbed him by the shoulders and began to fuck in a frenzy. "Oooooo, John, give it to me!" she yelped. At first she had been saying those things out of her desire to make her brother jealous, but now it was because she was bubbling with ecstasy. "Fuck it, John! Really fuck it for me! Oooo, what, a cock! Golly, I love your big cock up my little twat! Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!" Although she was boiling now, her tight ass whirling furiously, she saw her brother reaching for Kelly. Again, jealousy filled her as she saw his hand move toward her cunt. "Fuck me hard, John!" she called in a strangling voice. "Ooo, you're gonna make me really come! Oohhh, you're so fucking hard... so hard up my cunt!" John was panting and puffing on top of her and Barbra. turned his shoulders loose and clawed at her blouse. Somehow she managed to free her springy, shapely tits. "I want to feel you against my titties!" she groaned in passion. "I want to feel you on my tits!" John had his hands down and was holding her squirming naked ass tightly as he plunged his prick in and out of her gripping cunt. He was blowing hard near her ear and she wrapped her arms about him, lifting her legs, closing them around his bouncing ass, "Fuck the piss out of my pussy, John!" she urged hotly. "Fuck it ... fuck my hot cunt! Fuck it ... fuck it! Oooooo, I love it, John! I love your big, hard cock fucking my hot cunt!" Barbra became so intensely aroused she was no longer looking at her brother as he felt up the pretty little blonde. She was throwing everything she had into this fuck and her small body was shaking violently as she approached orgasm. "I'm gonna come!" she squealed, holding John tightly as her small ass went into a frenzy of motion. "You're gonna make me come! Fuck me! . . come with me! Oooo, please, please, come in my pussy... my twat ... my snatch.. . my cunt! I want it! Ohhh, I want you to come in my cunt!" Barbra boiled over, her small body shuddering as a squeal of ecstasy blasted from her mouth. Even as she came, she felt John's prick being pulled free. "Nooo!" she wailed, clawing at his ass to hold him inside her. "Don't take it out! I want you to come in my pussy! Leave it there... Leave it in! Come in my cunt!" John suddenly gave a lunge, driving his cock deep Into Barbra's spasming pussy. He hold himself there, grunting as he spewed cum up her cunt. Barbra squealed at she felt him splashing about the walls of her tight, hot pussy. When she knew John had finished coming, she shoved him off. He pulled his prick free of her gripping twat and sat back, heaving from the effort and pleasure. Barbra looked at his prick the way felt glistened with the moisture. Then she turned to her brother. Rick was finger-fucking the blonde girl and she was working on his cock. They had their eyes toward her and they were hot. "Why don't you stick your cock up Kelly's little sugar-cunt Ricky?" she hissed. "Maybe you'll like her sugar-cunt better than mine. Go on, fuck the little blonde cunt!" "Golly, yes!" Kelly agreed hotly. "I gotta get fucked someday, don't I? Fuck me, Rick!" Barbra lifted to her elbows, her pussy exposed and moist. She watched as Rick dropped his pants while Kelly sprawled on her back, her blonde pussy revealed. At this moment she seemed to have lost her anger toward Rick. She became interested in watching him fuck Kelly. John was forgotten by her as she turned to watch. Rick moved between Kelly's slim thighs and taking his cock in his hand, began to press the swollen head into those puffy lips. Suddenly Kelly yelped. "That hurts!" "Don't worry," Barbra said. "It won't hurt long. Let him stick that cock in you. It beats finger-fucking any day." Kelly gave a bleat as Rick's prick stabbed into her cunt. Then she lay still, holding her breath. Finally, in a small voice she said, "Don't put any more in, Rick. I don't think I'm big enough." "Hell, it's all in now!" he said. Kelly's eyes widened. "It is? You really have it all in my pussy? You're not telling me a lie, are you?" "Every fucking bit of his cock is up your cunt, Kelly," Barbra confirmed. "Now you can be fucked like you should." Barbra watched her brother's naked ass bob up and down and once more she felt excited. She couldn't find anger for him at this moment. Watching his ass bounce turned her on. She sat up, leaning close, peering at the way his ass checks bunched. She reached out and began to fondle his working ass. "Hey, great!" Rick snorted. "I like that, Barbra!" "Fuck her, Ricky!" she urged. "Fuck her little blonde pussy! Give her a good fuck! . . fuck the shit out of her little ass!" Kelly was gurgling in pleasure now, wiggling her ass about as Rick plunged swiftly. "I like it... Ohhh, I like it! You're right, Barbra, it is better than a finger! Ohhh, Ricky, fuck it for me!" On a sudden impulse, Barbra leaned down and planted a hot, moist kiss on her brother's working ass. The grunt of pleasure that came from him caused her to do it again. Then she was moving her lips from cheek to cheek, smearing his ass with moist, eager kisses. She reached between his thighs and cupped his balls as he fucked Kelly. Her tongue began to lick about the flesh of his thighs then over his ass cheeks. Finally, clutching at his balls, she ran the tip of her tongue up and down the split between his ass cheeks. This seemed to spur Rick into greater efforts and Barbra felt as if she were being slapped in the face by his ass. But she never lost contact there with her moist, now eager tongue. She flipped the tip of her tongue up and down the crack of her brother's ass, knowing it was creating more ecstasy for him. Barbra slipped her slender body downward until she was behind her brother's bouncing ass. Leaning low she saw his cock thrusting in to the almost hairless cunt of Kelly. She saw the way those pink lips stretched about Rick's hard cock, clinging to it with hot tightness. His balls flopped in his efforts. Pressing her face close, Barbra began to kiss at her brother's balls as he continued his energetic fucking of the young girl. She held his hips in her palms, her fingers digging into his flesh as her excitement bubbled inside her sweet body. Barbra licked her moist tongue about his bails as he banged up and down, finally taking him into her mouth. Her face was lifted and lowered by the motions of his ass, but she held his balls in her mouth, sucking at them with her nose almost buried into the crack of his ass. Her pussy was pulsating eagerly. She writhed about, pressing her snatch against the grass, making soft murmuring sounds as she sucked his balls. Oooooo. ahhhh, yes!" Kelly whimpered as she clutched Rick about the waist, her legs lifted in the air as she shot her little round ass up to meet his cock. "Oh, this is good! I love it! fuck it to me! Rick! Ohhh, fuck that cock to my cunt!" Barbra could hear John, but she didn't look at him. She felt his hands on her ass, though and gave a punt of pleasure when a finger slipped between her smooth thighs and entered her boiling pussy. Barbra worked her creamy little ass up and down as John finger-fucked her. She sucked even more frenziedly on her brother's balls. John was puffing and snorting now, his cock driving faster and faster into the hot tightness of Kelly's gripping pussy. "I'm gonna come!" Barbra heard him shout then felt him stab hard into Kelly's cunt, his body going stiff. She pulled hard at his balls with her lips. "I'm gonna come, goddamn it! Oohhhh, shit, shit, shit!" "Me, too!" squealed Kelly, her little ass twirling powerfully. "I'm gonna come, too!" Barbra writhed her ass as John thrust his finger in' and out of her tight cunt, but she knew she would not come. That didn't matter to her at the moment; this was for her brother. She wanted him to enjoy this more than anything else. She felt his balls draw tight inside her wet mouth, but she held them fast as he came. She did not release his balls until she was certain he was finished. Getting to her knees, she made John remove his finger from her pussy then she knelt there and looked at her brother as he puffed and gasped for air. Kelly remained on her back, legs wide, her pink pussy twitching. The expression on her pretty face was that of awed ecstasy. "Oh, Golly!" Kelly finally whispered. "That was something! How come you never fucked me before, John? It feels better than what we've been doing with each other." It was finished now and Barbra wanted to leave. She looked at Rick and he lay there with his eyes closed, peaceful. She turned and slipped through the opening of the shrubbery. To Be Continued

Author reserves all copyrights. No part of this story may appear in form at any operation which requires payment to access it. THE ENCLAVE PART THREE As the two women led Danny back towards the cabin, the boy felt very confused and humiliated. Inside, he wanted to run, but he didn't know where to go in this strange place. He consoled himself that at least the staring and whispering had diminished. As they walked, Danny saw what looked like a public restroom. He felt both the urge to pee and a desire for just a few moments of solitude. "Mistress Ann?" "What is it.." "Is that the boy's room?" he asked, pointing at the brightly painted shack. "There are no 'boys' rooms' here. Do you need to use the toilet?" "Yes, Ma'am." "Very well. Come on then." She led him into the public lav. Two young girls about his age were just washing their hands as the three entered. They gave little notice of a boy entering the restroom with two women. Danny spotted a urinal and walked toward it, but was surprised that Ann walked along with him and leaned against the wall next to the urinal, facing him. He looked up at her, confused. "Do you have to pee or do you not have to pee?" she asked flatly. "Yes Ma'am, I have to pee." he answered, perplexed. "Then do it." He cast another look to Mother Ruth. She only nodded her agreement. Tears formed again. "I can't." "Why not?" "Because..." Ann reached down and sprung open the front of his robe, moving him closer to the edge of the urinal. Danny's poor shy bladder just wouldn't relax enough to let go, and he began to cry softly. "Can't do it?" Ann finally asked. "No Ma'am. I can't do it with you...with anybody looking at me." "I think you will find out that you can, boy." "Why do you have to look at me, ma'am?" "Because that's the rule. No boy is allowed to go to the restroom in public by himself. You'll find that rule is also strictly enforced at my house." "But why, ma'am?" "Fasten your robe." "Yes ma'am. But why do you have to watch me?" "Do you remember the rule about not touching yourself down there?" "Y-Y-Yes, ma'am." "Somebody has to watch you to make sure you don't." This stunned Danny. "I won't! I promise!" Ann smiled. "I know you won't, so you have no need to promise." This didn't make sense to Danny, but Ruth found herself oddly amused at the exchange. "Well, come on then. If you don't really need to pee now, you will later." She took him gently by the nape of the neck and guided him back to the path. Mistress Ann saw the girls coming out of the recreation center and called to them. Amanda, her youngest, ran over to them. Danny was a little frightened that the girl might rat him out for hitting her and said nothing. "Can we stay out another 30 minutes?" asked the ten-year-old. Ann smiled. "OK...but not a minute more!", shouting out the last part as the little girl scampered away back to the other girls. Kim and Dee waved smiling at thier mother, and giggled at the sight of Danny in the short cotton robe. As they neared the cabin, a neighbor of Ann's came out carrying a canvas bag. She greeted the women and exchanged some small talk with Ruth. Then she looked Danny over quickly and said, "I think these should fit the boy. Let me know if they don't." Just before they entered, another neighbor shouted a greeting. Ann answered back. "Has Andy been any trouble, Rebecca?" "Not a whit," the plumpish Rebecca answered. Andy appeared from the doorway of the nieghbor's house and ran to his mother, pausing momentarily to look at Danny in his "boys' clothes", but saying nothing. Going up the steps, Andy sidled up to his mother and took her hand in hers like a little boy crossing the street, or even like a young 4th grader with his first girlfriend. Danny thought it odd, but something inside of him connected with some unspoken need and he found himself slipping his hand into his mother's as they followed the other pair into the cabin. "Andy, pour Miss Ruth and I a couple of Iced Teas." The boy busied himself as Ruth slid slowly into a rocker. Ann took Danny by the shoulders and walked him to the wall.. She took a piece of chalk and drew three circles on the wood, then pressed him against the wall, his nose in one circle, and his two hands up near his shoulders touching the other two. "You've not exactly been a good boy, Danny. You'll stay there quietly until I say you can move." Ann collapsed on the sofa, exchanging a mother-comrade glance with Ruth as they smiled tiredly. Andy brought out the iced teas and gave one to each of the ladies. ""Are you thirsty boys? Ann asked. "No. Ma'am" replied Andy. Danny whispered. "Yes. Ma'am". "Andy, give the boy a sip of this one." Andy took it to Danny and held the glass as he sipped through the straw. The two boys eyes met briefly. As odd as Danny found this strange boy, he felt a bit of a connection. The complex emotions he had experienced so quickly on his arrival at the ENCLAVE, pounding his mind and body like waves of surf, the jumble of new feelings and impossible to understand transformations that had occured within him began to rest in his heart and mind, and he started to let silent tears flow freely, but only after Andy had turned away. He couldn't see any of them, but he sensed thier presence behind him. Mother Ruth and Mistress Ann talking quietly about things not involving him, even as tears ran down his cheeks and puddled on the floor between his bare feet. Andy bustling in the adjoining kitchen/dining room. He thought about his little friends back home. The boys he had shared secrets with, been naughty with, just been 'boys' with. A choke of emotion hit him...quickly extinguished by the sounds of the girls coming up the steps. It was all excited talk between all four girls and thier mothers about the great time the girls had been having and all that they were finding in common. Suddenly, Kim noticed Danny in his cotton robe pressed against his chalk-outlined 'stocks'. "Oh my God! Is that my little brother?" she laughed. Dee joined her in unfettered merriment at the sight of thier mutual tormentor now subdued, still, and silent. Danny felt his anger rising. Bad enough this strange woman Ann. Bad enough his new 'headmistress'. He could even accept some humiliation from his Mother Ruth, but not from his sisters. Not from those over whom, in his juvenile world, he had always wielded power. "Fuck you, Kim." He felt like yelling it in her face, but he only managed to mutter it and kept his nose in the circle. Ann was quick to his back. She pulled his hands away from the wall and jerked his robe down and off, tossing it aside. Then she placed her foot between his ankles and kicked against them just hard enough to make the boy spread his feet apart. This cause him to have to stretch to reach the circle with his nose and to cock his arms askew uncomfortably to keep his hands in place. Dee and Kim were flabbergasted. They looked to thier mother, expecting an explanation. "He's been a bad boy." was all she said. Kim and Dee were struck dumb...as much by thier usually brow-beaten mother's change as by thier brother's predicament. The other girls noticed the change in thier new friends, a little perplexed, but eventually brought them back into lively conversation. It was hard for the sisters, though, to not keep looking on in amazement at thier naked brother, his ass cheeks still reddened and a little bruised by his multiple spankings. Andy, who had been serving up more iced tea to the girls, spoke up. "Mother Ann?" "What is it?" "May I use your restroom?" "Yes dear. Girls?" Amanda spoke up quickly. "I'm not going with him. I went last time!" Missy fired back, "No you didn't! Remember? I know I did!" Amanda's last piece of ammo in the convo was, "Yeah...but...I did it twice before that, so it's still your turn!" Ann groaned, but playfully told BOTH girls to go if they were going to argue all night. Amanda and Missy followed Andy closely towards the back of the cabin. Dee and Kim looked at each other quizzically. Danny had heard the whole conversation. His bladder was beginning to ache a bit, but he couldn't bring himself to either ask permission to go, or accept the thought that there had to be witnesses. There was nothing but shame on him. To even turn around to go to the toilet was an unbearable thought...to expose his privates to his siters was worse, for the moment, than any discomfort he felt. Ann sensed the confusion in Ruth's two girls, but instead of 'explaining', she lightened the mood asking them if they would like pizza for supper. "You have a pizza parlor here?" they asked in unison. "Yes...and they deliver too!" "COOL!" Ann got on the radio and placed the order, making sure she got at least a half pizza with each of the girls favorite toppings. "Danny just likes 'paper-oni'." little Dee added thoughtfully. "Mr. Danny won't be eating with us this evening." Ann smiled. Ruth's three came back from the restroom and Ruth told Andy he could sit down. He pulled a small, padded stool way from the wall and placed it out of the way, sitting on the undersized seat with his knees high. Kim found herself glancing over at the boy, his position showing a lot of thigh and even a little hip with the short robe riding out of the way, but he sat demurely, his knees together and held there with his arms. She looked at his face and he caught her, blushing a little which only made her blush a bit too. Ann noticed this little interaction, but said nothing. "Girls, " she spoke softly, mostly to Ruth's daugheters, "I suppose you have a lot of questions about our lives here. Maybe some things seem a bit strange?" Both girls moved to sit at her feet. Even Ruth herself, though growing sleepy, leaned in to listen. "Go ahead and ask me anything. All us women can talk to each other." There was silence for a few minutes. Then Dee spoke up. "Where is your husband?" "DEE!" Ruth interupted, but Ann calmed her. "Well, little one. We really don't have husbands here. We really don't NEED husbands here." "So you're divorced like my mom?" Kim queried. "Well...yes...I am. But not all of the women here are. Some have never gotten married, and some are still married, in a way." "Where are the husbands?" Dee asked. "Silly...she just said they don't have husbands here." answered Kim. "Do you mean where are the men?" "Yeah...and do you have a last name?" Dee continued, her six-year-old mind connecting the dots as best she could. Ann laughed. "No...none of the women here have a last name. Nobody does, really." "Why not?" "Well...where you come from, a woman either keeps her father's name or takes her husbands name. We don't believe in that." "I have my father's name." Dee chimed. "Yes, but mom doesn't have it any more." Kim said. "He was a rotten father. I'm glad she doesn't have his name anymore." Against the wall, Danny listened. For once, he agreed with his older sister. "Think of it this way." Ann, reasoned, "There's worst, bad, better and best...right?" The girls accepted this. "Some fathers and husbands are the worst. Some are not the worst, but still pretty bad. Some are better than most, but not really the best. But with fathers and husbands, that's as good as it gets. A man just can't be the 'best' parent or the 'best' partner because all of them don't know how to live right." "What do you mean?" "Well...just look at all the wars. All the greedy people. All the power-hungry dictators. They are all men. Men just don't have what it takes to be 'the best' kind of person." She paused while the girls considered this. "Who has the babies? Women do. Who can feed the babies with thier own body? Women can. It's just wrong for men to think they run the world. It's doubly wrong for a man to think he can boss a woman. It just goes against nature. Does that make sense?" "I think so." "Not every man...but almost only men are the hurters in the world." "When my dad hurt my mom, I wanted to kill him." gritted Kim. "I was so mad!" Danny, his nose in the circle, silently agreed. "Well, the worst men should probably be killed...or at least punished very strongly. But what about the ones that aren't the worst?" Ann asked. "I don't know." "We've thought about this here...a lot. The worst men here are punished very severely. The bad ones who just can't be taught right are punished too, but not as harshly. The good ones...the ones who can learn to be good...have a place in our world. But not as the boss, or the dictator, or the hurter. You understand? That's fair, isn't it?" Both girls nodded, Kim because she really did have an inkling of understanding, and Dee because Kim had. "We do everything in our power here to raise girls to be good, strong, capable women the way the Goddess wants us to be. That's our good work here. I'm so pleased that your mother and you have come to join us here." "Thank you." "And we also try our best to salvage all we can out of men and boys. We give them every chance we can and work sometimes extra hard to help them learn to be good people instead of bad. We encourage all our women and girls to excel in whatever they want to be. But we also spend energy helping boys find the right thing for them to do." As if by good timing, footsteps were heard on the steps, and a knock on the door. "I think that's our pizza!" Ann smiled. All the girls squealed as Andy rose and answered the door. Delivering the pizza was the first grown man any of Ruths' clan had seen since they arrived. In his early 20's and looking more like a movie star than a pizza delivery person, he passed the boxes off to Andy and got a signature from Ruth. "Are you a good man?" asked little Dee? He glanced at Ann and she nodded. "I hope so, little Miss. I try to be." Ruth smiled at him and he blushed. Slices were downed while the conversation continued. Danny could taste it just from the smell, but he didn't say a word. "If you don't have husbands, how are there babies?" Dee pondered. Ann and Ruth both laughed. "THAT, little lady, is a secret. And you will find out about it when your turn 8. So there!" Ann teased. Dee blushed and smiled. "For now...and for you too, Kim...just remember that what a woman has is precious, and what a man has is cheap." Ruth couldn't help but smile at this last statement from Ann. "Any more questions?" "What happened to Danny?" "Ahhhh. Well, we went to the headmistress' office to speak with her and start him learning how to be good..." At that last comment, both girls broke out laughing. Ruth, despite her attempt to be serious, couldn't help but giggle as well. Ann continued, smiling. "OK...OK...I know that sounds impossible, but it isn't. It's just going to take a while with him. Anyway...where was I? Oh yes...somewhere in the course of his first lessons he broke one of the big rules." "Let me guess," Missy interjected. "He didn't obey." "You are correct, Missy." "I guessed it because he did the same thing in the hall outside the Principal's office". "Yeah, " Amanda joined in, "And he hit me hard on the shoulder. I still have a bruise!" Danny fumed at the rat-out. He wanted to speak up and defend himself, but he didn't. "Well...the evening is still young for Mr. Danny." Ann said flatly. "Did he get a spanking?" asked Dee, a little giggly. "For one disobey, he got three spankings." "Oh my God!" piped in Kim. "What was he supposed to do?" Ruth, finally a little revived, interupted Ann. "Danny...what were you told to do that you didn't?" Danny blushed furiously. Even from behind, the rest of them could see his shoulders turn red and quiver. "I asked you a question, Danny. You will answer me." Ruth intoned, much to the surprise of his sisters. Silence fell as Danny swallowed hard and croaked. "She told me to take off my underwear." "Oh My Goddess!" screamed Melissa. "Three spankings because he didn't want anybody to see his little willie!" "That's so stupid!" laughed Amanda. Dee joined them in laughter, but Kim felt a sudden spasm of pity, even though deep down she had real reason to be forever angry with him. "Maybe it's time to kill two birds with one stone." Ann stated. "Danny...come here, boy." Danny hesitated as long as he felt it was safe to do so, then turned with his hands covering his boyhood and walked over to Mistress Ann on the sofa. She turned him to face the girls. "What was the first rule Headmistress tried to teach you today.?" He didn't look at anybody in particular, but recited like the cathecism, "All women are my boss and I have to call them Mistress." "What about girls?" giggled Amanda. Danny looked at her with a bit of fire still in his eyes. Ann spoke up. "Andy, come here." Andy rose and walked to the side of the sofa. Tell this boy what he is to call all girls." "He's supposed to call all girls 'Miss'." "OK, Danny. Start with your sisters. Say Hello to them properly like a good boy." "H-H-Hello Miss Kim. Hello, Miss Dee." Dee couldn't help but giggle, but her older sister smiled with something approaching pride in her brother. Dee asked, "What do we call him? Mr.?" "No, sweetheart. That's a little joke for grownups. You can call him by his name since he's one of two boys in the house. But if he's the only one, you can just call him 'boy'." "But if he's about to be punished, you shouldn't call him by his name." Amanda added. Dee nodded her incomplete understanding. "Now, Danny. Say hello to my girls." "Hello Miss...Miss...I forgot your name." The girls reminded him gruffly who they were, and Danny made his good-boy greetings with an attitude of rising sarcasm. "What was the second rule, Danny?" "That when a woman tells me to do something I have to do it." "Danny. In my house the rule goes further. If any of these girls tells you to do something, you will obey." Danny gulped. Dee and Kim sat spellbound and captivated. "The only exception is...your Mother Ruth's and my orders take precedence over thiers." "What's 'take presidents'?" asked Dee. The older girls giggled...Missy kidded Amanda saying she didn't know either. "It means what your mother and I say goes first. If I tell Danny to stay in the house, you can't tell him to go outside. You understand?" "Yep." "The only other rule for you girls is that you can't tell him to do something silly. It has to be useful or for his own good." "How will we kno..." "It's part of your education learning how to train boys. Don't worry about it too much. You won't get in trouble if you mess up." "Do any of you girls have anything you'd like Danny to do?" Danny blushed hard. Amanda spoke early, "He can kiss my ass for giving me this bruise!" Danny shot her a very brief heated glance that Amanda caught and smiled at. "Now, sweetheart. That doesn't help things. He'll learn." The girls thought some more, but Ann's were too angry and Ruth's too bewildered to come up with anything. Missy leaned forward and whispered to her mother, "What about...you know...that kind of thing.?" Ruth heard her, as did Danny who of course didn't understand, but it wasn't clear whether the other girls did, so Ann leaned forward and whispered. "Not yet, sweetheart. We don't know how he's wired yet.". "Okay, Danny...what was the third rule?" Ann quizzed. Danny was lost in humiliation. How as he supposed to say he mustn't touch or play with himself down there while standing naked in front of strangers, his sisters, a very odd boy and two grown women with nothing sheilding that which he shouldn't touch, except his own little fists. "Answer Mistress Ann, boy." Ruth spoke with the same calm flatness that her mentor used so effectively. Her voice and tone startled Danny, and he turned his head quickly to see if it was real. Of course, it was. "I'm not allowed to touch myself...my...my self down there." Ann's girls, of course, knew the rules. They were in fact charged with helping enforce them with thier own brother-boy. Kim was pretty sure she understood, but not completely. Little Dee finally spoke up. "What does that mean?" "I think it means a little show and tell." Ann smiled. "Sit back here on my lap, Danny". Danny complied, his legs together and his knees over hers, still covering his baby-jewels with his fists. Ann took hold of his knees gently and parted them slightly, then spread her legs a bit to force his open some more, before finishing the operation with her hands again. She patted the outsides of his thighs, and told him to place his hands there. Danny sighed, closed his eyes, and opened his privates to the gaze of all. "Three spankings to hide that?" Amanda laughed. Missy giggled, "He's must be really stupid!" Danny tried to will himself to be somewhere else...somewhere free of this burning shame. The giggles of the two strange girls kept drawing him back, and the silence of his sisters filled his mind with imaginings of thier thoughts...more painful than the giggles. It wan't 15 seconds into the great unveiling, before Ann continued. "This is what he is not supposed to touch or play with. The rule for outside is 'not without permission' but the rule in this house for Danny-boy is not at all." "You have to understand, that boys really can't help but want to do this. It's so strong in them, that up until they are 8 years old, they are allowed to. But when they get older, it's bad for them and interferes with thier training. Poor Danny is already older than 8, so he's got to go cold turkey." "I can't explain everything tonight, but just know this...part of your responsibility as girls is to make sure this rule is not broken. That's why Missy and Amanda went to the restroom with Andy. As good a boy as my Andy is, he is still a boy and would break this rule without supervision." Andy blushed and shuddered slightly. Dee and Kim remained silent, Dee glancing back and forth between Ann's face, Danny's closed eyes, and his soft little package. "Danny has had a big day and had a lot to learn. We can't expect him to understand everything right away. We'll talk about the other house rules tomorrow. But he IS smart enough to know what rules he broke today. Some he has been punished for. Others he has not. He has to be punished tonight for those misbehaviors." Silently, she helped Danny to his feet, then placed him over her lap. "Welper, Andy." Andy went to a cabinet and came back with a ping pong paddle, the padding worn away to the bare wood. "For disobeying me in the hall outside the principal's office, I will spank you until you cry." THWACK THWACK THWACK, fast and furious, on his already tender bottom. Twenty strokes at least, but only Dee was counting almost silently. Danny tried to pretend to cry, but nothing came out. Between the pain, the humiliation and his failure at self-defense through pretense, he did manage to cry for real. "Now...for physically fighting Missy and Amanda outside the principals office and for insulting Missy, there needs to be a more severe punishment. "Rudy, Andy". Andy went back to the cabinet and came back with a thin flat metal bar, somewhat flexible and full of pre-drilled holes. She rolled the blubbering boy over onto his back, his wet eyes wide with fear of this unknown instrument. "Missy, you first." Ann spoke softly, handing the tool to her 13-year-old daughter. "Chose your bud, baby." She contined as Missy layed the flat end of the metal slapper on the boy's tiny left nipple. Danny cringed and blubbered, remembering the fire the headmistress had put in it earlier...a pain forgotten in the spankings that followed. FLAP FLAP FLAP FLAP. Missy laid quick, hard blows on the sensitive little nubbin, after agreeing with her mother that 40 seemed sufficient. Danny wailed and thrashed in Mistress Ann's lap as the young teen whipped his stiffening little boy-nip. Kim and Dee looked on, bug eyed. Ruth watched intently as a student, noticing the small winces on Andy's face as the new boy was nipple-spanked. Even before this punishement was over, the quivering boy felt his bladder began to spasm. He cried out louder to end the torture early, but nobody heard, understood, or cared about his blubberings. Finally finished, Missy cooled the heat in his nipple with the pad of her thumb, even the momentary pleasure being excruciating. With all sense of shame gone, Danny finally pleaded, "Mistress Ann? May I use your toilet?" Ann laughed. "I was wondering when you couldn't hold it any more. Do you really have to pee? Or are you just trying to escape punishment?" "No ma'm...yes ma'am...I have to pee." "Buford, Andy". Andy went to the kitchen and dug around under the sink. "No...you may not use my toilet. But you may use this bucket." Andy returned with a small aluminum pail and sat it on the floor. Danny quickly slid to his knees, all eyes upon his quivering little prick, dripping a few drops of piss from the head. The pressure built until Danny felt he would lose all control. The pain on his ass cheeks and nipple screamed for the attention needed to allow his bladder to relax in front of a small crowd. He reached down to take hold of his flaccid little penis, and Ann grasped his hand. "Lean down closer, boy. You won't touch that under my roof." More seconds passed as Danny moaned his ultimate discomfort. "Dee?" Ann spoke. "Yes Ma'am?", the six-year-old answered. "Tell this boy to go pee-pee." Ann's girls laughed. Kim felt a little embarassed. But Dee thought it was great fun. "Danny Boy...hurry up and pee." Dee giggled. At that moment, the dam burst within him, and a stream started, slowly at first fighting over the last walls of shame and humiliation, before turning into a steady flow and slowing to a trickle. Ann nudged his soft little pecker to and fro to keep him on target, then flicked the head to shake way the last little droplets. "Well, done, DEE!" Ann laughed. All the girls joined in. Even Ruth found it funny. "Come here, Boy." Ruth spoke...her rapt attention fractured by the girl's gaeity. "You hit Amanda and gave her a bruise. Your father used to do that to me. I will not have a boy who does that to girls." Danny sobbed, his back heaving against his mother breasts. What's appropriate for that one, Ann?" "Well, I was thinking of giving Amanda a crack at the other nipple. But since this means a lot to you, we'll get Spooner." Andy's knees wobbled a little, but he went back to the kitchen and returned with a flat wooden stirring spoon. Mistress Ann helped arrange Andy upon his Mother Ruth so that his legs were widely splayed and his tender little privates fully accessible. She called Ruth's girls to attention away from the scene, and guided Kim to the floor beside her mother and Danny's left leg. Then she motioned Little Dee and Missy to the other side. "Girls...you need to take hold of the boy by his knees. That's right...do what Missy is doing. Take his legs in the crook of your arm. He's going to want to put those legs together, and you have to hold them apart." She then stepped behind Ruth's chair and guided Ruth to put him in a sort of headlock, with her arms tucked beneath his and her hands clasped behind his head, raising his arms up. "Boy. You are going to want to stop this by any means necessary, and that won't be good for you. So I'm going to hold your hands up over Mother Ruth's shoulders. If you move them out of my hands, you'll be punished for that as well. Do you understand?" "Yes, Ma'am." Danny sobbed. Amanda took the spoon and looked to her mother. "Sweetheart, you've never done this, so just remember what I showed you. Not too hard...just quick, and all over." Missy, who had been perhaps the least interested in watching the punishments settled in and gave her little sister an intent gaze. Kim and Dee were at once both fascinated and mortified. Ruth looked over to see Andy looking nervously onto the scene set before him. Amanda laid the broad flat end of the wooden spoon against Danny's soft, hairless scrotum. Just that contact was enough to make young Danny wince at the pain about to befall his undeveloped little balls. Amanda spoke. "I'm going to spank you until you're sorry for hitting me." With that, Danny blubbered over and over, "I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I won't do it again." Ann spoke. "No, Boy. You're not allowed to just say you're sorry. You have to BE sorry." Danny contemplated that. He hated this girl already. One for bossing him around, and two for ratting him out for what he still thought of as an accident. His eyes burned with anger at her, until she raised the spoon and brought it down on the underside of his fully exposed ball-bag. It was all Ann could do to hold his arms in place. The pain was so sudden and intense, he lost his breath. He couldn't scream, yell, cry, or even moan. Just one sudden grunt and he was at the mercy of a 10-year-old girl and a wooden spoon. Amandas blows weren't hard, but they fell over and over as she aimed the spoon to the left and right of his scrotal crease, above midway just under the base of his wildly flopping little penis, and down below nearer his perinium. Danny gasped as the spoon fell on it's mark over and over. His eyes, at first full of hatred, took in the sight of a calm, skinny little 10-year-old girl spanking his nuts with great care. In his mind, his excuses began to evaporate, and he knew...even though he had not intended to hit her or hurt her...he had disobeyed and fought with her. As he struggled to elicit a sound up from his air-depleted young lungs, a vision of his father came into his memory. Pleading with his bruised and disheveled mother to give him another chance. That he was sorry...so sorry...swearing he'd never do it again. Through the pain came epiphany. He wasn't going to be like his father. He was truly going to be sorry. He was true. He was sorry. The fire left his eyes, and they glowed softly. Large pools of tears formed and fell, mixed with snot and sweat, around his gaping lips. He caught the little girl's eye as she switched her gaze from his dancing little nutsack to his face. She slowed. She stopped. He caught his breath and sank into Mother Ruth. Ann released his hands, but they only drifted slowly to his sides as the spasming pain in his tender little nuts abated with each heartbeat. "I think he's sorry, momma." Amanda said, softly and with a hint of pity. "I think so too, Baby. Good job, Amanda. Very good job, sweetheart." Anne beamed. Missy gave her little sister a snuggle and whispered, 'awesome'. Ruth was in tears. She thanked Amanda over and over. Mistress Ann and she clasped hands in warmth and comradeship. Kim and Dee were crying a little too. Partly from having witnessed such an event, and partly in sisterhood with thier long-abused mother. "Are you OK, Danny?" Ann asked. Panting and sweaty, Danny answered, "Yes, Ma'am." "Wipe his face, Andy." "Before we put you to bed, there is one more tradition in this house." Ann gathered all the girls, including Ruth, onto the sofa...crowding and jostling and sitting atop one another. "Kneel down on the coffee table facing us, Danny." He did, shaking and quivering. "Andy, show this boy how to properly salute his mistresses." She said. Andy looked briefly confused, and went to unwrap his robe. Ann smiled. "Not on yourself, Andy. On the other boy." Nervously, Andy went and stood beside Danny. The boys exchanged glances. Andy seemed to be trying to silently communicate, his face a bit tense and embarassed. Danny looked just a bit stunned. His eyes still had a bit of 'plead' in them, but he knew he was licked. An embarassed resignation fell over his face as this strange older boy gingerly took the 10-year-old's soft little pecker and tweaked the frenulum left from his circumcision. Then he lightly pinched the reddened skin of the younger boy's scrotum and twisted gently. The effect was near immediate as Danny's soft little prick began to stiffen and lengthen. All eyes were on it as it bobbed quickly to life with each new heartbeat until it was pointing skyward. Danny felt ashamed. He felt little of anything sexual or 'fun' in this small demostration of his ultimate boyhood, so abraded were his nerves, his emotions, and his sense of himself. "Good, Danny. Now say thank you to everybody here who's helped you learn to be a good boy." With his little erection still bobbing, he hung his head and began to speak. "No, boy. Look your mistresses in the eyes when you thank them." Ann spoke quietly. One by one, his teary eyes met each of the females seated on the couch before him. "Thank you, Mother Ruth. Thank You, Mistress Ann. Thank you, Miss Missy. Thank you, Miss Amanda. Thank you, Miss Kim. Thank you, Miss Dee." Ann reached for the canvas bag she'd been given earlier and pulled out some garments. The first was a tight fitting pair of shorts made of elastic cloth, like a bandage. She and Mother Ruth helped him into it. The clingy fabric cooled his skin and comforted him, trapping his little hard-on pointing up towards his belly button. Next came what looked like a jumbo pair of diapers...a thickly padded garment that, when he was helped into it, fit him from his lower rib-cage to half way towards his knees. It fastened with velcro, mostly, further secured with a canvas strap like a dog lead, and buckled into place with a small lock. Next came a large pair of long gloves which ran up almost to his hairless armpits. The gloves were sewn together at the fingertips. His arms were bent into place in a prayer-like gesture, and the fingertips strapped to a small collar which was placed around his neck. While Ruth, Dee and Kim watched intently as Ann helped Danny into his sleep clothes/chastity garments, Amanda and Missy had already secured Andy into his similar outfit. He looked a bit disappointed. Danny looked relieved and sleepy. The boys slept on cots in thier respective sister's bedrooms. Ann and Ruth stayed up a while longer, eventually sharing a bed in the mistress bedroom.

Freddy und Peti kennen sich seit dem Kindergarten, sie sind beste Freunde. Die Einschulung ist noch nicht so lange her. Peti ist bei Freddy zu Besuch und darf bei ihm bernachten. Die Eltern vergngen sich bei einem Gartenfest, nicht weit von der Wohnung entfernt. Abendbrot mit Grillwrsten usw. war schon, die Jungs haben keine Lust mehr auf die Ellis und sollen auch bald ins Bett, es ist 19:00 Uhr. Die Szene ist in Freddys Kinderzimmer. --- "Das ist ja toll, Freddy. Wo soll ich schlafen? Auffer Matratze wieda?" fragt Peti und springt mit Hausschuhen auf Freddy sein Bett und hpft drauf herum. Freddy grinst breit: "warte mal Psssst... sei mal leise" er schleicht zur Zimmertr ffnet diese leise und langsam, dann spht er heraus aus sein Zimmer um sich zu vergewissern das seine Mama und sein Papa auch wirklich zu dem Fest sind und keiner da ist. Dann schleicht er zu sein Freund Peti. "Willst du mal was sehen was ich bei meiner Mama und mein Papa unter dem Bett gefunden habe?" fragt er kichernd. Peti: "Eh klaro" entgegnet er grinsend "was isses denn?" Er macht einen Satz und landet mit seinem Hintern geruschvoll auf der Bettkante. "Komm mit." wispert Freddy greif Peti seine Hand und zieht ihn hinter sich her. Peti lsst sich einfach fortschleifen, am Bad vorbei ber den kleinen Flur zum Schlafzimmer seiner Eltern. Leise ffnet er die Tr: "Du darfst das aber niemanden verraten okay Peti?" "Schlafen hier deine Eltern?" fragt Peti aufgeregt und ein bisschen befangen zugleich. "Ja" entgegnet Freddy grinsend. Dann schiebt er die Tr auf. In dem Raum befindet sich ein groer Kleiderschrank mit Spiegeln an den Tren, auf dem Schrank stehen lauter Kisten und Schchtelchen. Ein groes Doppelbett mit zwei Nachttische, das Bett ist mit Seidenbettwsche bezogen. Neben dem Bett lsst sich Freddy zu boden plumpsen und krabbelt drunter, nach ein paar Sekunden sagt er, mit zappelnden Beinen, quasi das einzigste was von ihm noch raus schaut: "Zieh mich raus ich hab es..." Peti muss kichern, hpft zu Boden und greift nach Freddy seinen Beinen, er ist jetzt gespannt wie ein Flitzebogen: "Was hast du, was is es, Freddy ..." Er mht sich ab, seine Fe rutschen immer wieder weg, aber er stemmt einen Fu gegen das Bettgestell, so geht es. Langsam zieht er Freddy unter dem Bett vor, wobei Freddy sein Pulli nach oben rutscht und kichert: "Zeig mal her..." Freddy dreht sich zu Peti um und hlt etwas hinter dem Rcken, er grinst noch breiter als sonst: "Das hier!" sagt er mit einem gebrlltem flstern, und hlt Peti ein Glanzheft fast direkt vors Gesicht: "da sind alle nackig drin." Es sind Hefte mit Aktaufnahmen mnnliche ebenso wie weibliche. Ein Heft schiebt er hinter dem rcken vorsichtig unters Hemd und klemmt es in den Hosenbund, so das Peti es nicht merkt. "Schau dir die mal an." Flstert Freddy und beginnt das Heft das er seien Kumpel vors Gesicht gehalten hat auf zu blttern. Peti reit ihm das Heft aus der Hand, johlend, setzt er sich aufs Bett. Er liest langsam, und stockend den Titel: "Gei---ll-e Haaauuuss-fraauen, Teil 7" Auf der Titelseite eine nackte Frau um die 30 in Schrze mit schwappenden Brsten. Er blttert weiter, lauter nackte Frauen. Freddy hat sich inzwischen neben ihm aufs Bett gesetzt und einen Arm um ihn gelegt. Peti flstert: "Guck mal Freddy, die Kche hier ... sieht aus wie bei uns ... und guck mal, dieeee hier, sieht aus wie deine Mutti!" Und fngt laut an zu kichern. Freddy nimmt ihn in den Schwitzkasten und albert mit ihm rum: "Dann ist der Mann auf der nchsten Seite dein Papa." Wobei er anfngt Peti zu kitzeln. Er drckt ihn aufs Bett lsst sich mit dem Bauch halb ber ihn fallen und blttert tatschlich eine Seite weiter und hlt ihn eine Seite mit nem nackten Mann unter die Nase. "Weiter hinten sind viel jngere Frauen und Mnner drin..." flstert Freddy sein Kumpel ins Ohr. "Hahhaaaaa, hr - hhaaaha - hr aaaaauff" quiekt Peti, dann sieht er das Bild. "Zeig mal." mit groen Augen betrachtet Peti jetzt die nackten Mnner, die neben den 'Hausfrauen' auf den Bildern auftauchen, die interessieren ihn eigentlich viel mehr als die Frauen. Freddy liegt immer noch halb auf ihm, und whrend Peti unter ihm eingeklemmt in dem Heft blttert, bewegt Freddy sich hoch und runter, ein Knie leicht angewinkelt, reibt zwischen Peti's Beinen. Nach ein paar Minuten sagt Freddy wider flsternd: "Wir sollten das Heft wieder weg packen bevor mein Papa oder meine Mama erscheinen" dann rutscht er ber Peti rber und lsst sich mit den Fen zuerst vom Bett runter gleiten, so das er vor dem Bett kniet. Dann nimmt er das Heft, klappt es zu: "Pass auf!" er legt das Heft zu boden "so packe ich das immer weg, das haben die noch nie gemerkt" Dann schupst er das Heft und es rutscht unters Bett. Leise flstert er wieder: "Komm wir mssen uns bettfertig machen meine Mama und Papa haben nicht gesagt wann sie wieder da sind..." "Ja, okay, Freeeedy" sagte Peti, obwohl er enttuscht war, dass Freddy weg gerutscht ist. Er fand es schn, wie Freddy auf ihm lag und ist auch ein wenig rot im Gesicht, wie er im Spiegel sehen kann. "Komisch, bei meinen Eltern is im Schlafzimma auch alles voll Spiegel." Flstert Peti, als von unten aus dem Garten ein Stimme tnt: "Peee-ter, Freeedyyy, Zeit frs Bett." Es ist Freddys Mutter, Peti lugt aus dem Fenster, auf Zehenspitzen: "Is gut Frau Krger, wir sind schon im Baa-aad" "Komm" sagt Freddy leise wobei er sein Freund wieder bei der Hand nimmt und aus dem Zimmer zieht, dann schliet er schnell aber leise die Tr. "Wir mssen unsere Schlafanzge holen, falls sie raufkommen zum nachschauen" sagend schiebt er Peti in die Richtung seines Zimmers. Drin angekommen macht Freddy sein Kleiderschrank ein spalt auf und verschwindet da drin. Im Schrank zieht er das versteckte Heft hinter dem Rcken hervor und schiebt es schnell unter den kleinen Stapel Bettbezge der sich drin befand, greift sein Benjamin-Blmchenschlafanzug und kommt wieder raus: "Ich hab alles und du?" fragt er sein freund, der in seinem Rucksack nach dem Schlafanzug und dem Zahnputzzeug stbert. "Gleich, warte" entgegnet Peti, dann zieht er seinen kurzrmlich und kurzhosigen Schlafanzug mit Donld-Duck Motiven heraus "Hier!" "Cooool" sagt Freddy lchelnd, dann nimmt er Peti sein kurzrmliches Hemd und schaut es sich genau an, gibt es Peti zurck, knllt sein Benjamin-Blmchen zusammen wirft es wieder in den Schrank und zieht Micky- Maus raus: "Passt doch besser zusammen oder?" sagt er grinsend zu Peti, dann geht er aus dem Zimmer Richtung Bad. "Jaaa" sagend und ein paar quiekende Laute machend folgt Peti sein Kumpel ins Bad. Dort angekommen zieht er erst mal sein Hemd ber den Kopf. Dann zieht er die kurze Hose aus und greift durch den Schlpfer hindurch an seinen Schniepel. Jetzt sprt er, dass er mal dringend muss Freddy klappt den Klodeckel hoch zieht seine Hose runter und setzt sich aufs Klo, dort sitzend strampelt er seine Jeans und Unterhose von den Beinen. Dann beginnt er sein Hemd aus zu ziehen: "Dieses doofe Hemd ist viel zu klein!" Freddy wirtschaftet etwas rum... "Peti ziehst du mal?" fragt er und beugt sich nach vorne wobei er die Arme auch nach vorne weg streckt und Peti anblinzelt. Peti greift nach Freddys Hemd und zerrt daran rum. Nach einigen Ruckeln ist es geschafft. Durch die An- und Entspannung sprt Peti jetzt den Druck seiner Blase berdeutlich. Freddy sitzt auf dem Klo mit vorgebeugtem Oberkrper, die angewinkelten Arme auf dem Beinen und schaut Peti an. Peti zwickt sich wieder in den Schniedel, verdrehe die Beine und sthnt: "Musst du lange, Freddy? Musst du etwa gro?" "Gro" sagt Freddy leise "musst du pullern" fragt er Peti, wobei er auf dem Klo so weit nach hinten rutscht wie das Loch der Klobrille es zulst. "Komm auf mein Schoss" kichert Freddy zu Peti wobei er die Beine ein klein wenig auseinander macht. Freddy sieht durch Petis rum Gehdrcke an seinem Schniedel, wie seine Unterhose etwas nach vorne absteht und grinst. Peti grinst jetzt auch und sagt flsternd-heiser* Okay *Dann streift er sich die Hausschuhe ab, zieht schnell den Schlpfer runter und nhert sich rckwrts dem Klositz. Er macht ein paar spielerische Ste nach hinten und setzt sich vor Freddy auf der Brille, Freddys Schenkel umschlieen ihn. Aber sein Puller liegt zu weit vorn auf dem Rand der Brille und seine Beine sind an einander gepresst: "Haaaa hhaaha, so geht das abba nich .... freeeedy" sthnt er leicht. "Ich meinte auch anders rum" sagt Freddy zu ihm wobei er ihn leicht nach vorne drckt, als er dann steht dreht er Peti um, macht seine Beine ganz zusammen und zieht ihn sich auf den Scho, so das Peti auf seine knie sitzt, mit dem Gesicht zu ihm: "Du musst schon weiter rauf rutschen" sagt Freddy zu Peti, wobei er nach Petis leicht nach vorne stehenden Schniedel greift, ihn krftig festhlt und nach unten richtet. "Okeeee" sagt Peti angespannt und immer noch mit einem breiten Grinsen im Gesicht. Er hlt sich an den Schultern von Freddy fest und rutscht ihm 'schubweise' entgegen. "Freddyyyyy, jetzt is meiner haaaart, wie soll ich denn jetz ...." fngt Peti an zu gackern. Freddy quetscht leicht Petis steifen Schniedel und versucht ihn dabei runter zu drcken, dabei macht er die Beine soweit auseinander das Peti normalerweise gut hindurch strullern knnte. Freddy fngt an ebenfalls zu gackern, und kichern: "Wehe" wobei er Peti sein richtig greift und seine hand vor und zurck bewegt. Als Freddy die Beine auseinander macht verliert Peti Bodenhaftung und fllt nach vorne, in dem Moment entgleitet Freddy sein Schniedel und Peti kann es nicht mehr halten. Mitten in ihren Lachsalven hinein pullert Peti - und da sein Schniedel nach oben wippt geht einiges davon auf Freddy sein Bauch und sogar auf seine Brust. Peti kann sich aber nicht mehr halten vor Lachen, vergrbt - halb verschmt - sein Gesicht in Freddys Schulter und umhalst ihn: "Ohhhh Fredddyyy, ich .. hahhaaa ahhhh ... ich kann nisch ... ich .. hahhaahhhaaaa ... du bis schuld" Freddy greift gackernd nach Peti seinem Schniedel: "Iiiihhhh du ferkel" gackert er, dann greift er mit beiden Hnden nach dem Schniedel und drckt ihn zu, zuerst so das nix mehr raus kommt, dann drckt er ihn runter so das er auf sein Bauch zeigt und lsst ein wenig locker. "Du, duhuu, haa haahooha, du ha-hast es gewollt, du wollts es" lacht Peti weiter, beruhigt sich aber langsam und schaut, was Freddy seine Hand mit seinem Schniedel macht. Schmale Rinsale pipi laufen jetzt Freddy seinen Bauch runter und tropfen ins Klobecken. Petis Schniedel ist fast vollsteif. Er flstert: "Los, Freddy, lass es auch laufen, das macht doch spa, oda?" Freddy lsst nur wenig aus Petis Schniedel raus laufen, fngt aber an seine Hnde vor und zurck zu bewegen, wobei er mal mehr und mal weniger zudrckt, er schaut gehband auf Peti sein kleinen Schniedel der richtig hart ist. Durch die warme Flssigkeit die sein bauch runter luft und auch ber sein Schniedel, wird dieser ebenfalls langsam gro Freddy nickt nur leicht beilufig whrend er grinst. "Aber haaalo, deiner wird ja ganz von selba hart" kichert Peti in sich hinein. "La ma anfass'n" Und er nimmt Freddys von Kinderpipi schon ganz feuchten Puller in die Hand. Freddy schiebt mit der einen Hand Petis Vorhaut zurck wobei er sein harten Schniedel noch so drckt das wenig heraus kommt, und mit Daumen und Zeigefinger der anderen Hand streichelt er ber Petis Eichel, wobei er auch vorne ber den schlitz streichelt, so das die Finger nass werden, worauf sie noch besser ber die Eichel gleiten. Freddy kichert: "Das ist total glatt und glitschig..." "Deiner aber auch" sagt Peti biegt Freddys Schniedel leicht nach oben und schiebt sacht die Vorhaut zurck. Er ist jetzt ganz konzentriert bei ihrem Spiel, das die beiden ja nicht zum erstem mal spielen, das sie so lieben. "Ich mag deinen Schniedel" flstert Peti, mit immer erregterer Stimme "... Kommt bei dir auch gleich was?" "Ich hab schon gepullert" sagt Freddy leise... "aber heute nacht wenn Mama und Papa schlafen" Er grinst Peti breit an, "hab ich noch eine kleine berraschung" whrend er immer weiter mit Petis Schniedel spielt, obwohl kein tropfen mehr kommt, als pltzlich unten im haus stimmen zu hren sind. "Oh Mist" Peti wendet erschrocken den Kopf zur Badtr, dann springt er von Freddys Scho. Er macht einen Schritt zur Tr, drckt die Klinke "Nich Ma abgeschlossen" Peti dreht schnell den Schlssel rum. Dann sieht er Freddy auf der Kloschssel langsam vorrutschen, sein Oberkrper ist nass von seinem Pipi. Freddy schttelt einige Tropfen ins Becken, wischt dann mit der Hand ber seinen Bauch und seinen Pimmel. Jemand kommt die Treppe rauf, dann ein Klopfen an der Badtr und die Stimme von Petis Mutter: "Was macht ihr denn solange, seid ihr noch nicht ausgezogen?" Freddy steht vom Klo auf und macht ein schritt unter die Dusche dann brllt er laut: "Moment der Schaum muss noch runter" er nimmt die Shampooflasche schmiert sich davon viel zu viel auf den kopf mit geschlossenen Augen tastet er nach den Duschknauf und dreht ihn auf. Sofort kommt kaltes Wasser aus der Brause er lsst vor schreck die Flasche fallen. Peti: "Wir sind gleich soweit, Mama" whrend Petis Mutter entgegnet: "Beeilt euch! Peti, dein Bett ist schon gemacht und ich will euch noch Gute Nacht sagen, ihr Racker." Dann entfernen sich die Schritte wieder. Peti lacht, als das kalte Wasser auf Freddy niedersaust. "Heee, wart mal" er dreht am Warmwasserknauf, zieht sich dann noch die Strmpfe aus und hpft zu Freddy unter die Dusche. "Du Dskop, Haarewaschen mssen wir doch gar nicht" sagt er, lacht und kitzelt Freddy ab. Freddy gackert: "Na und... wer wei bis wo du hin gestrullert hast?" dann schaut er zum Klo das auch etwas nass ist. "Wenn meine Mama das sieht gibt es rger... das mssen wir auch schnell sauber machen.." Nach dem der Schaum von seinem Kopf runter und er blitze blank ist steigt er aus der Dusche. Noch bevor er denk sich abzutrocknen holt er ein Wischlappen unter dem Waschbecken hervor kippt etwas von dem Reiniger rauf und wischt das Klo und dann schnell darum den Boden danach wirft er den Lappen wider in den Schrank und nimmt sich eins der Handtcher. Peti nimmt sich ein anderes Handtuch und trocknet sich ab. Sein Schniedel ist immer noch halbsteif. Langsam zieht er sich den Schlafanzug an, aber seine Erregung ist immer noch nicht abgeklungen. "Guck mal Freddy, ich kann doch sooo" und er zeigt auf das Minizelt in seinem, ziemlich engen, Schlafanzughschen "nicht Gute Nacht sagen..." Freddy: "Wir schleichen uns in mein Zimmer und legen uns einfach hin, unter der decke sehen die das nie," flstert er zu Peti, dann sammelt er seine verstreuten Klamotten auf und hlt sie sich vor den bauch: "und so sehen sie das auch nicht." wobei er Peti angrinst. "Okeeee" flstert Peti verschwrerisch, schnappt seine Klamotten, drckt die Klinke. "Die Luft is rein, Freddy" Dann tapst Peti barfuss rber in Freddys Zimmer, aber das steht Petis Mama! "Na los jetzt, wirds bald. Was habt ihr nur so lange im Bad gemacht? Und wo ist Freddy?" "Der kommt gleich nach," und Peti schmeit die Sachen vor seinem Bauch einfach auf den Boden und hpft unter die Decke des Matratzenbettes. Seine Mutter schttelt den Kopf, hebt dann die Klamotten auf und legt sie zusammen. Dann beugt sie sich zu Peti und ksst ihn auf die Wange: "N'acht mein Schatz und sei schn artig bei den Krgers." "Gut Nacht Mami!" entgegnet Peti und seine Mutter verlsst das Zimmer, nichtsahnend. Freddy tapert gemtlich hinter her wobei er sein eines Auge etwas reibt, als er Petis Mama erblickt fragt er: "Ist mein Auge rot? Ich hab Schaum rein bekommen... und konnte nichts mehr richtig sehen..." wobei er ihr blinzelnd sein Auge hinhlt damit sie gucken kann. Petis Mutter schaut etwas besorgt: "Na habt ihr wohl wieder mit dem Shampoo rumgeschweinst" und lacht, gibt Freddy einen Kuss "Schlaf gut Freddy" und einen Klaps auf den Po. Peti erwartet ihn schon, auf der Matratze liegend: "Haha, hab ich gehrt, hab ich gehrt. Meine Mami mag das, Klapse auf den Popo geben" und Peti kichert. Freddy grinst breit: "Wei ich." Packt seine Sachen auf sein Stuhl, dann schliet er seine Zimmertr macht das Licht aus und lauscht wie Petis Mama sich entfernt. Dann schleicht er zu Peti unter die Decke greift Peti sein Schniedel den er etwas drckt und sagt leise: "Bser Schniedel, bser bser Schniedel einfach zu strullern." und dann merkt Peti wie er ein Kuss auf die Wange kriegt. "Hehe" quitscht Peti vor Vergngen, dann dreht er sich abrupt um und droht spielerisch: "Wehe, wenn du mich bei meiner Mama verpetzt" Er guckt Freddy an und Freddy macht ein Gesicht wie: Du bringst mich auf eine Idee'. Peti fllt ber Freddy her, presst ihn auf die Matratze aber Freddy schttelt ihn ab und Peti lsst sich lachend zur Seite fallen. Beide atmen schnell und schwer und, Peti kann sich nicht helfen, sein Pimmel macht sich schon wieder bemerkbar. Ein bichen unsicher ist er sich doch: "Sag mal Freddy, du hast es doch wrklich gewollt, oder?... Oder nich, Freddy?" Freddy kichert leise, dann steht er auf und geht zum Kleiderschrank, zieh das Heft unter den Bettbezgen hervor, tapert vorsichtig durchs verstreute Lego zu sein Nachtisch und schnappt sich seine Taschenlampe. Mit beidem kommt er wider zu Peti und zeigt ihn das Heft: "Schau mal!" In dem Heft sind lauter nackte Mnner drin, wie sie sich befummeln, blasen und Analverkehr betreiben auf der letzten Doppelseite sind Mnner zu sehen die sich gegenseitig gegen den Bauch pullern. Whrend Peti das Heft mit Freddy anschaut massiert Freddy seinen Schniedel durch die Schlafanzugshose. "Woaaaaooow" Peti blttert und blttert und kommt aus dem Staunen nicht raus. "Guck mal da .... boah der hat ja nen groen Pimmel ... und der steckt richtig drin ... und ehhhh, ich dacht' immer ... Is ja irre, Mnner, so rischtig erwaxne Mnner, die machen das auch mit pullern und so..." Dann sieht er, wie Freddy sich am Puller rumspielt, schaut kurz auf seine Beule in der Hose und dann auf Freddy seine massierende Hand. Peti grinst schelmich und fhrt langsam rber zu Freddy, versucht seine Hand wegzustoen um selber mit Freddy seinem Pimmel zu spielen: "La mal anfassen Freddy ... na looos, weg mit der Hand." Freddy schaut auf Petis Hand, dann grinst er: "Das kann ich auch," und greift nach Petis Zelt wo er drei vier mal rumdrckt. Dann greift er mit seine andere Hand nach Peti seinem Hosenbund, zieht seine Hose ein stck von Petis Bauch weg und lsst die Hand mit der er grade sein Schniedel gedrckt hat von oben reingleiten. Er greift nach Petis Schniedel aber nur ganz sanft er lsst seine Fingerspitzen entlag gleiten. "Vorallem was die nicht alles machen... die nehmen den sogar in den mund hast du sowas schon mal gesehen?" fragt Freddy leise sein Freund. Peti sprt Freddy sein hartwerdenden, warmen Schniedel unter dem Stoff und imitiert ihn und lsst seine Hand hineingleiten. Er sprt seinen pochenden Schniedel. Es fhlt sich richtig schn an, denkt er. "Ja, was glaubst du denn, klaro hab ich das schon mal gesehn." Entgegenet Peti, es stimmt nicht, und er ist ganz aufgeregt, sein Herz pocht wie wahnsinnig. Er streichelt ganz sanft Freddys harten Schniedel. "Fre-edyyy? Von wem sind'n eigentlich die Hefte. Ich mein ... dein Vater ...??" "Wei ich nicht," sagt Freddy leise.. "die liegen mitten unter dem Bett." Dann wird er etwas rot. "Wo hast du denn das schon gesehen... das mit das die ein Puller auch in den Mund nehmen und so? ich hab sowas noch nie gesehen... bis auf die in dem Heft..." Dann flstert er nochleiser: "Hast du sowas auch schon mal gemacht??" und senkt etwas den kopf. "Och, ich .. ich habs auch nur so inem Heft gesehn, in echt noch nich." Sagt Peti und tut so, als htte er Freddys letzte Frage berhrt: "Los wir zieh'n unsre Hosen aus, is sowieso besser ohne ..." tuschelt Peti. Freddy berlegt kurz, dann steht er auf lsst seine Hose runter gleiten und schiebt sie nach hinten runter von der Matratze. Als Peti seine Hose aus hat kniet er sich auf beide knie hin und bewegt langsam seinen kopf Richtung Petis Schniedel. Peti sprt seinen Atem an sein Schniedel, mit seiner einen hand drckt Freddy so gegen Petis Hfte das er auf den Rcken fllt. "Hee hee..." prustet Peti, als er rcklings auf die Matratze fllt und fast ein rolle macht, seine Beine ein Weilchen in der Luft rudernd. "Was war das denn - du httst ihn .. ja .. fast ... im Mund gehabt." Freddy legt sich auf Petis Beine, einen Moment schauen sie sich richtig tief in die Augen. "Eigentlich will ich das mal ... fhln .. also, wenn er ... in deinem Mund ... so wie auf den Fotos, mein ich." Haucht Peti und schaut Freddy fast bettelnd an. Freddy geht wieder mit sein Gesicht ganz nahe an Petis Schniedel und ksst ihn ganz sanft an der einen Seite ganz dicht an Petis krper, kssend bewegt er sich ganz langsam vor zur Spitze. Dann gibt er ihm ein Kuss direkt vorne auf die Vorhaut. Freddy zieht diese langsam zurck bis Petis Eichel ganz frei liegt. Er streckt seine Zunge raus und tippt mit dieser ein zwei mal gegen Petis Eichel, wobei er ein etwas nachdenkliches Gesicht macht, dann lsst er langsam seine Zunge um Petis Eichel gleiten. Peti beobachtet ganz genau, was Freddy tut, Peti ist super erregt. Das scheint ja gar nicht eklig zu sein, denkt er und denkt sofort daran, es auch mal bei ihm zu probiern. Aber als Freddy mit der Zunge um seine Eichel spielt, muss er tief seufzen und dann: "Oh - sssst, oooaaaah, Freddy, mach das noch ma, das is ja soooo schn." Peti lsst sich einfach fallen und geniet Freddys warmen Mund um seinen Schniedel. Freddy lsst seine Zunge noch ein paar mal um die Eichel kreisen dann schaut er Peti an und flstert: "Aber nicht pullern" dann setzt er seine Lippen vorsichtig an Petis Eichel und lutscht sanft dran langsam saugt er sie rein und wieder raus nach ein paar mal schaut er Peti an und fragt leise: "Und wie ist das?" whrend er die vorhaut von Petis Schniedel vor und zurck bewegt und ihn vorsichtig wieder in den mund nimmt. "Ohh Freddy, das is ... boaahhh .. soo schn. Nich aufhrn bitte" Und Peti fhrt mit seinen Hnden zu Freddys Gesicht streichelt ber seine Haare, seine Wangen, tastet an die Stelle, wo sein Pimmelchen in seinen Mund gleitet, lsst sie wieder zu seinen Haaren wandern und drckt dann sanft mit beiden Hnden auf seinen Hinterkopf. Instinktiv begreifen die beiden, wie's geht und Freddy bewegt langsam seinen Kopf auf und ab, wobei er Petis kleines hartes Ding jetzt richtig saugt. Peti: " Ohhhhh ... oaaaaahhhhhhh .. Freddy, ich .. ich glaub ... ich mu ..... oooh" Freddy saugt und bewegt sein kopf rauf und runter wobei er seine Augen zu macht, mit seiner einen freien Hand beginnt er an sein Schniedel rum zu spielen, bei den rauf und runter fngt er an dabei seine Zunge sanft gegen Petis Schniedel gleiten zu lassen, so das er nicht nur von den Lippen verwhnt wirt. "Ich ... i ... i ... fred ...oaaaahhhh" sthnte Peti. Fr einen Sekundenbruchteil trat er weg, dann ist er wieder da. Peti schwebt auf Wolke 7, so was hat er noch nicht erlebt, ihm bleibt die Sprache weg. Als Freddys Zunge wieder die sensible Stelle am Eichelkranz berhrt, fngt sein Schwnzchen wie wild zu zucken an. Dann wieder, er hat mehrere trockene Orgasmen hintereinander, ohne zu wissen, wie ihm geschieht und warum eigentlich. Nach einiger Zeit, hlt er Freddys Kopf fest. Peti kriegt nur ein: "St .. Stopp, nich ... nich bewegn .... ohhh ... ich kann nich mehr" ber die Lippen gehaucht. Er liegt schwer atmend da. Langsam lst sich die Spannung, er lchelt und schaut an seinem Krper hinab zu Freddy. Freddy lst saugend Petis Schniedel wieder aus seinen Mund gleiten. "Was war den los?" Fragt er sein Freund verwundert mit einem gebrllten flstern und krabbelt auf alle viere neben ihn hoch. "Ist alles in Ordnung mit dir?" fragt er etwas schchtern und besorgt zu gleich wie er Peti so schwer atmend und erschpft liegen sieht. Peti grinst ber beide Ohren, als Freddy neben ihm liegt. "Freddy, das, das war das beste, das alla alla beste." Er kann nicht anders, er nimmt Freddy bei den Schultern und drckt ihn ganz fest an sich. Dann ksst er ihn auf die Wange, dann - als Freddy immer noch verdutzt schaut - schmatzend mitten auf den Mund. "Alles okee, okee. ... Abber, ich hab zuerst gedacht, ... zum Glck mute ich nich ... es war fast wie pullan, aber anders .... viiiiel viel besser." Und er drckt Freddy noch mal ganz fest an sich. Er hakt auch seine Beine um ihn, sprt seine Fe an seinen. Er ist ziemlich fertig und ein richtig glcklicher kleiner Junge. Freddy umarmt Peti und kuschelt noch ein paar Minuten dann sagt er leise: "Jetzt muss ich das Heft wieder verstecken bevor Mama kommt um nachzuschauen ob wir brav schlaffen." Nimmt das Heft und schiebt das zwichen sein Bett und Schreibtisch. als das Heft in sicherheit ist zieht er seine Hose an und sagt zu Peti: "Komm mein kleiner mach die Beine hoch," und nimmt seine Hose um sie ihn ber zu ziehen... "Hey, ich bin genauso alt wie du" kichert Peti, hebt dann aber doch die Beine hoch, damit er ihm die Schlafanzughose berstreifen kann. Als Freddy sie ihm bis zu den Kniekehlen hochgezottelt hat, greift Peti den Bund, hebt seinen Po und zieht sie sich selber hoch. "Kommt deine Mami auch noch Gute Nacht sagen? .... Ehh stell dir mal vor, sie wr jetz ..." kichert Peti "...na Auweia!" Peti kriecht unter die Bettdecke, whrend Freddy in sein Bett, direkt neben seiner Matratze steigt. Und das ganze keine Sekunde zu frh, grade als die beide richtig liegen geht leise die Tr auf ein Kopf steckt sich durch den Trspalt schaut kurz und flstert nach hinten als die Tr sich schliet: "Ist okay die beiden schlafen schn..." Puhh', denkt sich Peti, das war ja echt knapp. Er kichert und hrt Freddy auch leise kichern. Dann kuschelt sich Peti in seine Decke: "Du bist echt der beste Freund den ich hab, Freddy. ... Gute Nacht, Freddy." Es dauert keine fnf Minuten und er ist eingeschlafen - zufrieden mit sich, seinem besten Freund und der Welt berhaupt.

G E N I T A__C L A N Author: Brother Genita and Sister Genita Title: Uncle Pete's Family Weekend--Incest and Videotape Part: 4 of 4 Universe: City of Chaseton, Chaseton County; part of "The Adventures of Uncle Pete." Related to "Danny and Marie's Kiddie Sex Games," "Adolescent Danny" stories, and other tales by members of the Genita Clan. Summary: In summer of 1997, Uncle Pete spends a weekend with his sister, brother-in-law, and their children including 17-year-old Matt and 12-year-old Kandi. Keywords: bg (on videotape), Mg, mg, MM (only brief touching), cons, m1st, mast, oral, ped, preteen, teen, ws (on videotape), Language: English ---------------------------------- WARNING This fictional story contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity. If you are underage for your jurisdiction, or not interested in such stories, please go read something else. ---------------------------------- This story is copyrighted under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. In short, you can share and adapt this work, even for commercial purposes, as long as you give appropriate credit, do no imply our endorsement of you or your work, and do indicate if changes were made. If you make changes, you must license the result under the same license. ---------------------------------- Uncle Pete's Family Weekend: Incest and Videotape (Uncle, 17-year-old nephew, 12-year-old niece) Part 4 of 4 by Brother Genita and Sister Genita It was Sunday evening in summer of 1994, and tomorrow Id be leaving. Id only arrived Thursday afternoon to visit my sister, brother-in-law, and nieces and nephews at their American home in Chaseton, I had gotten close with my nieces and nephews in ways I never dreamed. What more could possibly happen? I did have some mysteries to solve. Matt, the familys 17-year-old electronics spy, had secretly videotaped the family, and possibly his friend Danny, in sexual acts at their home. But what did he have on tape? And what did Danny do with 9-year-old Janie on the tape marked Danny and Janie? Did my 32-year-old sister Toni really teach her 12-year-old daughter Kandi to masturbate their male dog? How did 5-year-old Annie learn to give head? Was I really the first to give head to 9-year-old Jonnie? Who in the familybesides Matt--knew what the others were doing? And did my sisters conservative husband Tom know about any of this? I knew I wouldnt find all the answers this trip, but I would be back For now, I wanted to talk alone with Kandi. On Friday, she had convinced me to take her virginity, which Matt had videotaped without my knowledge, and Id imagined without Kandis either. But she was gone all day Saturday on a church outing and then this morning at church. I hadnt had a chance to talk to her alone since we made love. I knew the first time was an important experience, and I wanted to see how she felt. After I gave Janie, Jonnie and Annie turns sitting on my lap while the whole family watched TV, Kandi got up and went to her room. This was my chance. I waited about 15 minutes so it wouldnt look suspicious, then said Good night all; Im going to finish packing. There wasnt much to pack, really, but Id conveniently stored my suitcase in Kandis closet. She shared her room with Annie, but I knew it was still an hour before the 5-year-olds bedtime. I got a few hugs and kisses, then left the room. I knocked on Kandis door. No response. I heard music playing, so I knocked again, louder. Come in, she said. I entered, and saw her lying on her back on top of her bed with her head propped up on pillows. She was looking at some teen magazine. Her long blond hair was in a ponytail, and her bangs hung almost to her sparkling blue eyes. She wore a white halter top with blue and white vertical stripes on the sides, and a pair of tight pink pants that showed her developed if preteen form. Did she ever wear something that wasnt sexy? She saw me and said oh, hi, Uncle, trying to sound casual. I shut the door. I patted her bed and talked over the music, saying can I sit here? OK, she said, trying to sound like she didnt care. She moved over a little to give me room, and I sat beside her. I wanted to talk to you for the past day and a half, Kandi, but havent had a chance because you were gone. I wanted to talk about ourexperience Friday. Oh, that, she said, acting as if it were no big deal. Of course, I knew it was, to me as well as her. How do you feel, dear? Fine, she said, still looking at the magazine. She took a stick of chewing gum and offered me one. No thanks, I said. Could you turn down the music a little, hon? Not all the way, just a little. It was too loud to talk comfortably, but I figured some music would help cover our conversation. R. Kelly was singing "I Believe I Can Fly" from the movie "Space Jam." "If I can see it, then I can do it. If I just believe it, there's nothing to it." Kandi turned the music down but not off. Thanks, I said. Listen, Kandi, I continued, what happened between us was very special. You are very important to me, and sharing what you did with me makes me feel special. Im honored that I could share that with you. It may sound corny, but I really meant it, too. She stopped chewing her gum, then looked up at me, teary eyed. Really, Uncle? Yes, Kandi, really. Oh Uncle, she said, put down her magazine and threw her arms around me. We snuggled together for a minute, and I stroked her long blond hair and gave her a little kiss on the forehead. When we broke our hug, she gave me an impulsive peck on the lips. I do need to explain some things, Kandi, I said, as she leaned her head against my shoulder. You understand that our relationship is, well, kind of awkward, with me being your uncle. We cant really take it any further. I glanced at her and she looked puzzled, so I continued. I mean, we cant ever get married or even go steady or anything. I know that, Uncle, she said. I dont want to get married. I was glad to hear that but strangely almost felt disappointed. Silly, of course. What do you want then, Kandi. Uncle Pete, she said in a voice like she was addressing an ignorant kid, I wanted to give you my virginity. I know. You did that, and it was wonderful. But what do you want now? I want to have sex, silly. Do you mean with me, or with others? I asked. Both, silly Uncle. I wanted to have sex but never did it before. I needed you to teach me. I didnt know if I taught her very much. From the actual experience and a quick view of Matts secret videotape, she knew what to do, even if she was a virgin. But why me? I asked. Because youre my uncle and I can trust you, she said. Plus youre professional. Professional? I made a living arranging lodging and entertainment, often erotic and sometimes illegal, for international clients, but Id never told Kandi that. Although her mother, my sister, knew. Did your mom tell you that? Maybe, she said, trying to suppress a smile. Come on, I said, did she? How else could Kandi have learned. Unless her step-brother had videotaped me talking to Toni at some pointWas it Matt? I asked. No, she said. Then it must have been my sister. Shed tell my niece that? Then I thought about Matt. He was in the living room when I left, and if he knew I was going to Kandis room I looked around the room to see where a camera could be hidden. All I saw on the ceiling were a hanging lamp with a fan and an air vent, but he was an expert at this stuff. Chances were he was taping us right now. Come on, I said to Kandi, taking her by the hand. Where are we going? she asked, concerned. Dont worry, dear, I said. Its a surprise. As I passed by the family watching TV in the living room, I noticed that, sure enough, Matt was gone. I went to his door and tried opening it without knocking. It was locked. I banged on it hard, and said unlock the door and let me in, Matt, I demanded. I figured the rest of the family wouldnt hear me with the TV blaring. Uh, just a second, Uncle, he said. Now, I said. A few seconds later, he opened the door. He sat down in front of a computer game, trying to look casual. With his thin teenage form, his glasses, and his brown curly hair, he looked like a cross between Greg Brady and Bill Gates. I wasnt buying his innocent act. I dragged Kandi in with me, shut the door, went straight to his hidden video collection Id discovered earlier that day, and said explain these, Matt. I figured Kandi was shot unaware too, and deserved to know what her brother had done. Huh? he said, panicked. I dont knowI mean I watched the one of me and Kandi, Matt, I said. I found it when you were gone this morning. You taped me and Uncle Pete? she exclaimed. You promised not to! So Kandi knew about her brothers X-rated hobby. I only promised I wouldnt tape if you seduced him Friday evening, Matt said. But he seduced you Friday morning. That doesnt count. So Kandi, you knew your brother makes these tapes? No, Uncle, I didnt know he taped us, honest! OK, Kandi, I believe you. But you knew he made secret tapes in the house? Yes, but not of us. Have you watched any of them? I asked. Well, she said, a couple. Shes seen most of them, Uncle Pete, Matt said. Theres some she hasnt seen that she really wants to, he said, giving her a devious look. He sounded more confident than when I first confronted him. But you arent going to tell anybody, are you, Uncle Pete? He had me there. How could I tell anyone hed secretly taped me fucking my 12-year-old niece? No, Matt, I guess I cant. And I wont tell that you make secret videotapes. It will have to be our secret. You want to see any of them, Uncle Pete? he asked. Did I want to see candid videos of my relatives and others having sex? Was the Pope Catholic? Besides, I hadnt spent much time with Matt since Id arrivedId been so busy with the rest of my nieces and nephews. I guessed it was time to share his interests. Sure, Matt, I said, and he locked his door and pulled some type of thick curtain over it. Helps cover the sound, he said. I found out Matt had three working monitors, one that was hooked up to both his computer and his camera system so he could watch what he was taping at the time, another which could show views from a second room, and a third which didnt monitor rooms but was connected to a regular VCR. Apparently he could watch any room in the house, but only watch two rooms at once. He popped a tape into the VCR. It was one I hadnt noticed when I peeked at his collection earlier. It was called Kandi Dancing, and had a number of scenes of her doing some of the most erotic moves Id seen outside of a mens club. She was no professional, but the way she wiggled her tight little butt and shook her 34B breasts in a series of skimpy outfits was divine. Matt's work was nearly that of a professional as he creatively varied the lighting and angles. Then I had a surprisethe last dance on the tape was the strip one Id seen her do for Matt when Id secretly peeked through his door! The odd thing was I saw her fully expose herself on the tape when she was toward the door I had been hiding behind. So she wasnt hiding her bare pussy from her brother by turning away from him, she was aiming it toward a hidden camera that must have been above his door. I looked up, and saw an air vent there. So that was where he hid his cameras. He noticed where I was looking. Theres air vents in every room in this house, Uncle Pete, he said. Except in the bathrooms, which have ceiling fans, so I had to come up with a different spot there. But in the rest of the house, all the air vents are in the ceiling next to a wall, right by the middle of the wall. And I got a camera in all the vents. With a fisheye lens, you can see the whole room, he said, proudly. Where did you get the money for all this? I asked. By selling the tapes, he said. You sold tapes of me!? exclaimed his sister. No, no, I dont mean that, he said. You dont have enough money. What? she said. I dont sell them to just anybody, he explained, lecturing like a successful businessman. I sell them to the people I tape. Blackmail, I said. So I suppose youre going to charge me. No, Uncle Pete, youre my uncle. I wouldnt charge you. Then who do you charge? I asked, getting more confused. See, Uncle, I didnt start with cameras in the house. Me and Danny tapedwell, I cant say who, because I got paid not tobut we taped a teacher with a student when we were at Chaseton Middle School. Kandis going back there in fall when she starts seventh grade. We werent planning to tape a teacher, but I got a camcorder for my 14th birthday when I was in eighth. We were going to sneak it into the girls shower, hide it, and put it on record before school started. Then wed sneak it out after school, and watch. But when we were going in, we heard a strange noise inone of the rooms. I cant tell you too much cause I dont want to give it away, but we saw a teacher and a seventh grader. And they were doing things right there in the school! Really? said Kandi, getting very interested. What teacher? I cant tell you, Kandi, he said. Then, proudly, professional ethics. (To find out what happened, read "Adolescent Danny: Students, Teacher and Videotape," by Brother Genita). So you got enough from that teacher to buy all your cameras? I asked. Naw, he said. Me and Danny didnt know to ask for more money. We were just kids then. But we got enough for him to get a camera, and we caught some other people, and one of them waswell, somebody who had a lot of money. Im sorry, but I cant show you those tapes. How could you when you sold them? I asked, then realized the answer before he said it. We made copies, he said deviously. But we keep them locked up and hidden, that way if anybody tries to cause trouble, we still got evidence. Plus, he added, me and Danny like to watch them sometimes. Who else knows about this? I asked. If you don't count our 'clients,' just me, Danny and Kandi, and now you, Uncle, he said. I got other tapes I can show you, he said, of people who didnt pay. And some of my familyour family. I found out Matt never turned in anyone, even if they refused to pay. After all, if the police investigated, it could mean the end of his little operation. And theyd stopped blackmailing after their rich client bought them off. I looked at the titles he had. He had commercial porno tapes, but the titles I was looking at were all homemade. Kandi Dancing, of course, and Id already seen the beginning of Uncle Pete and with the blank waiting to be filled in, although I found hed only shot me and Kandi and, well, the dog. There was Poop and Pee I and II, which featured the whole familyincluding meusing the toilets; Shower I, II and III; Bathtime; and once again I noticed Mom and Dad tapes I, II, and III. Is this really your Mom and Dad, uh Fucking? he said. Yeah, and doing oral, anal and all kinds of stuff. He grinned. Lucky they like doing it with the lights on. I only got one infra-red camcorder, but its a portable. Then I pulled out a title called Mom, Kandi and Rex. So maybe my sister really did teach Kandi how to masturbate the dog. Kandi noticed the title as soon as I did. Dont show him that one Matt! she said. He just grinned and put it back. I saw something else Id seen the title of before, called Danny and Janie (described in the Adolescent Danny series). I cant show you that one either, said Matt. Not til I check with Danny. But heres one thats even better. It was titled Dad and Annie I. A videotape about my brother-in-law and his 5-year-old daughter? Shed given me head like a pro. Did she learn her technique from her own father? A man who was an active church goer and so conservative? Matt put in the tape. It started out rather blandly, with Tom, who was about 6 feet tall and slightly chunky, carrying Annie, who looked to be about 2 or 3 in the video, into his bedroom. Her strawberry blonde hair was curled into ringlets which hung over her little white shoulders. She was still wearing diapers, and he changed them as she grabbed his short blond hair. There were a few clear shots of her naked bottom, but only a hint of her pussy. Nothing very exciting. Matt fast forwarded through the next several scenes on the tape. Heres a good one, he said, putting it on play. Kandi and I stared at the monitor. One scene of something I didnt catch ended, and then it cut to Tom standing in his bedroom, naked with his back to the camera, with something I didnt identify on the sides of his neck. Then he turned. His hand was on his cock, which looked short but thick, and he was obviously masturbating. I heard Kandi gasp, but continued watching the video. What was also obvious was that in his other hand he was holding Annies bottom as she sat in his hand facing him. She was also naked and looked to be about three. She had her tiny hands around the sides of his neck. His cock was just short of her bottom, and it looked like he was trying to touch her with his penis. He turned away from the camera again, then sat her down on his bed, feet toward the camera. She lay there, apparently content, and he moved toward her. Unfortunately, his back blocked much of the view, and Matt fast forwarded for a few seconds. He stopped, and it was the same scene, only now Tom had moved onto the bed behind Annies head. She was still lying on the bed with her feet toward the camera. But he was holding his cock over her mouth, and she was licking it. His erect penis had something white on it, and then I saw him squirt some more whipped cream out of the nozzle of a can onto his cock. She licked his dick, hungrily. I found my own dick was springing to attention inside my pants. He started masturbating furiously with his right hand, and from his face was about to cum. Then he bent forward a little, his left hand fingering her toddler pussy. She giggled, although I could barely hear it, then she went back to licking his erection. He moaned loud enough to hear on the tape, then suddenly his cock spurted cum over her face and hit her tummy. His second spurt actually reached her tiny pussy and hit his own fingers as they masturbated her. The next couple of spurts were small, and hit her face and her mouth. I wondered what she would do with the cum, but she licked it up happily with the whipped cream. I turned to comment to Kandi, but then I saw what she was doing. My 12-year-old niece was intently staring at the tape, but her pink pants were unsnapped, and her hand was inside her white panties playing with her pussy. I looked at Matt and saw he was grinning again. I never showed her any tapes of her Dad before, he said. She kept bugging me to, and I figured this was the time. Do you I started to ask Matt, then glanced at Kandi. Do you have any of your stepfather and Kandi? No! Kandi exclaimed and Matt said at the same time. Matt continued I think Dad only likes really little girls. His grin got even bigger. Watch this scene, he said. He fast forwarded the tape through a few more scenes, then stopped at the end of one that showed Tom and Annie, who looked a little younger than she did now, maybe about 4, drying off with bath towels. I should put that scene on a shower video, but I havent gotten around to it yet, said Matt. But watch this. In the next scene Tom was dressed in brown slacks and a white undershirt, and was entering his and Tonis bedroom carrying Annie. She was wearing nothing but a pair of pink Barbie panties. He set her on the bed, left, then several seconds later carried another girl in who looked about 4, the same age as Annie in the video. The girl had dark brown, almost black skin, medium length black kinky hair in cornrows, and dark brown or black eyesit was hard to tell exactly. She had pink barrettes in her hair, and was wearing a pair of panties identical to Annies. Thats LaToya, Matt said, named after the singer. I babysit her, Kandi exclaimed, her hand still in her white panties. Whats he doing with LaToya? Watch, said Matt. Remember that time a few months ago when you were supposed to babysit her? But you had that game or whatever you and Mom wanted to go to and Dad babysat for you? It wasnt a game. Mom wanted me to go to a mother-daughter banquet with her. Whatever, said Matt. Just watch. On the tape Tom set LaToya on the bed, shut the bedroom door, and started removing his clothes. He had something in his hand, but it was hidden from the camera. My brother-in-law stripped down to his white briefs, then took both girls by the hand and led them into his and Tonis bathroom. Dont worry, said Matt. I knew Dad was up to something before I left, so I had the cameras in both his bedroom and bathroom running. The scene cut to the bathroom, apparently edited together. Toms briefs were off, his cock already at half mast. The two girls were sitting close together on the closed toilet seat. Tom pulled off Annies panties, exposing that sweet pink slit I had licked earlier that day, then LaToyas. Her pussy was small and so dark you could barely see the dark slit. Then he took a squeeze bottle of chocolate syrup, apparently what hed been holding earlier, and squeezed some on his cock. Annie, already experienced, started licking his chocolate covered cock right away. She showed LaToya what to do, and soon the two toddler girls were licking together, making a meal out of my brother-in-laws cock. Then Tom put more on the tip, and Annie suddenly sucked it into her mouth. Shed obviously done that before, too. After a few tries, Tom got LaToya to suck on his penis too. Then Annie whispered something to her dad, and he got LaToya and her off the toilet. He opened the top lid, then set Annie back down on the john. He got on his knees and moved his face toward her lap. Then his mouth covered her toddler pussy. Annie got a determined look on her face, and then I saw some piss spurt from around Toms face. My little niece was peeing into her fathers mouth! Tom squeezed more chocolate onto his cock, much of it dribbling onto the bathroom floor. Then he patted LaToyas bottom, moving her toward his crotch, and she moved in and started licking and sucking the syrup off his erect member. Tom moaned into his daughters peeing pussy, and while LaToya licked the end of his cock it suddenly spurted onto her face and into her mouth. She backed up a little and watched him squirt, giggling. Then she moved back in and starting licking up chocolate and cum. I was so wrapped up in the video I didnt notice what was happened off the monitor until I felt my pants being unzipped. I looked down and there was 12-year-old Kandi kneeling in front of me wearing only a white front hook bra. I could see the top of her ass as she bent toward me. She quickly pulled down my white boxers, grabbed my cock which was already erect, and thrust it in her mouth. She started sucking me hard and fast. Then I noticed Matt was beside us aiming a camcorder at the scene. I wanted to give a good show, so I reached down and undid Kandis 34B bra. Her beautiful preteen breasts hung down, and I started fondling their firm young flesh as she swallowed my manhood. Matt moved behind her to get a good shot of her hand as it started stroking her pussy. She had shaved her cunt, and it was completely hairless. She spread her pussy lips with her fingers, and I knew he was getting a good shot of her spread pussy lips and her hanging tits. Deciding to get a different angle, he laid on his back on the floor and started shooting from underneath Kandi and me. I pulled my cock out as far as it would go without leaving Kandis mouth, then thrust it back in. Then I heard Matt grunt, and looked over at him. Kandi had grabbed his crotch through his pants. W-what are you doing, Kandi? he said, backing away. Kandi stopped sucking me just long enough to say grabbing your cock, brother. I was confused. Matt videotaped everyone in the family having sex, including incest, pedophilia, water sports and bestiality, and he acted shocked that his sister grabbed his crotch through his pants? Take off your pants, brother, Kandi said. I want to fondle your cock. She went back to sucking me. But I cantI never I knew Matt had peed in the toilet while his 9-year-old sister Janie was sitting on it, because she had told me about it. But from the way she reacted to my stiff erection, I had suspected shed never seen a penis fully erect before. Apparently her dad, who liked younger toddlers, didnt do anything with her when she was littler, or she didnt remember, and Mattit looked like peeing with his little sister and videotaping sex was all hed done! Let her play with your cock, Matt, I said. It feels even better than when you do it yourself. Trust me. Kandi wasnt waiting for an answer. She still had a hold on the front of his pants, and somehow managed to unsnap them while still sucking on me. My hands started fondling her wondrous boobs again, and squeezing her nipples. Id felt bigger, but she had the nicest feeling breasts Id ever fondled. I heard Matts pants unzip, but got lost in my own sensations. Kandi, I cant do this, said Matt. Then I had an idea. Hand me the camcorder, Matt. What? he said. Its your turn to be on tape. Youve shot everyone, including your friend Danny. But Ive never been You can show Danny this tape later, I said. Then, thinking of his nervousness, I added you can edit out the awkward parts. Matt was still nervous, but his adolescent hormones took over. He handed me the camera, and pulled down his white briefs. His 6 inch cock stood at attention a few inches behind Kandis ass. His penis was thick, thicker than mine. His younger sister took it in her 12-year-old hand, and started masturbating his penis while continuing to suck mine. It was the first time, I confirmed later, hed been masturbated by anyone other than himself. Kandi slipped her mouth off my cock. Uncle Pete, she gasped, Uncle Pete, I want you to do it to me again. You want me to do what, Kandi? I wanted to hear her say the words. And get them on tape. Please, Uncle Pete, fuck me. Fuck me again. She didnt have to ask me twice. Yes, my 12-year-old Kandi, I said for her and the tape. Your uncle wants to fuck you right now. Still on her knees, she turned her ass toward me. I grabbed her cheeks with one hand as she spread her legs. Her pussy was very wet already. I spread her vaginal lips with my thumb and forefinger, my other hand aiming the camcorder. It was wobbly, but I got it in the shot. Then Matt took the camera from me, and I aimed my cock straight for that waiting cunt. I pushed the tip over the opening, then pushed harder. Her hairless pussy swallowed the head of my cock for the second time since she gave me her virginity just two days before. I thrust in about an inch further, then backed up an inch, then in two inches. Soon I was fucking her preteen cunt in earnest. N-now Matt, I struggled to speak. Give me back the camera. I think Kandis going to do something to you. I already saw Kandi licking her lips, and I knew what she had in mind. Uncle Pete, she said between labored breaths, is it OK if I Do whatever you want, my little cunt, I said. Do whatever you want to your brother. I took the camera from Matt, who was standing there dazed. But Kandi knew what to do. She grabbed his cock again, but instead of stroking it, moved it into her wet mouth. While I, her uncle, fucked her 12-year-old shaved pussy from behind, she sucked on her brothers erect penis. I alternated between shooting his cock and mine. Unfortunately, I couldnt get a shot of her sucking his member and mine thrusting into her pussy at the same time, but what I shot was extremely erotic. Then I remembered the video tape, still playing on one of Matts monitor. I looked up and was surprised to see all three monitors were on. One was of the kids bathroom, which was now empty; another was of Matts room, and in that one I could see both Matts penis in Kandi mouth and mine in her pussy at the same time. So Matt had turned on a camera in his room in addition to the camcorder I was using. But on the video tape was something else. My brother-in-law Tom was in the backyard, wearing nothing but what looked like a kids pointed birthday party hat with an elastic string under his chin. So Matt had a hidden camera aimed out there too. The high wooden fence would block the view of anyone from outside, but not Matts camera. Then I saw about half a dozen girls and boys aged about 3 to 5 running around the yard with him. They were also naked except for party hats. I could hear their sounds of giggling over the moans of Matt, the heavy nasal breathing of Kandi with Matts cock moving in and out of her mouth, and the swushing sound my cock made sliding in and out of her now dripping pussy. After a few seconds I saw there were two boys and four girls, two of them LaToya and my niece Annie. But as I looked closer I saw what they were giggling about. Tom and one of the boys were holding their penises and peeing on the others! The little brown-skinned boy had short black hair, and was grinning as he splashed pee on the tummy of a little, laughing brown-skinned girl who had long straight black hair. Then I saw another girl, who was Asian with a party hat over her black hair and eyes, smiling coyly and looking down. I followed her gaze and saw little girl pee spurting out of her little slit. But it was going right onto the cock of a little, kinky-haired black-skinned boy! The pee splattered on his smooth lap, and I saw he was stroking his little piss-covered cock and actually had an erection! I didnt know a boy that young could get a hardon. My cock was throbbing in Kandi's cunt, and I knew I was getting close. Suddenly I heard Kandi give a muffled scream. She was cumming with my cock in her pussy and Matts in her mouth. I remembered the camera I was holding, and leaned to the side to get a shot of her scrunched up, cock-filled face. Then I had another idea. I was in a hurry, because from the way I felt and the way Matt was moaning, we were both about to shoot our loads. Kandi, I said. Your brothers still a virgin. You gave your virginity to me; why dont you let your brother give his to you? Fuck my brother? she said in shock. I dont think hed want Oh yes, Kandi, said her brother, caught up in his own passion. Please let me fuck you, little sister. Let's do it right now. Oh please! Uncle Pete, is that Go for it, Kandi, I said. Fuck your brother and swallow my cum! Kandi was in too much of a daze, so I grabbed Matt and pulled him behind her. What, what do I do, Uncle? he said. Fuck me, brother, said Kandi, deciding quickly. I want you to cum inside me. Matt still looked unsure. I was too horny to wait for him to figure out how to mount her, so I pushed his butt, moving him toward her with the camera in my other hand. I let go of his butt and grabbed his cock, aimed it for his sisters love tunnel, then said now push in, Matt, just push in. He missed the first time, hitting between her cunt and asshole, but on the second try, his cock hit that precious fuck hole, and slid in. Soon he was fucking her madly. I moved in front of her, and she started sucking on my cock for all it was worth. I was so close to cumming. Then I glanced at the VCR screen, and almost dropped the camera. The little black-skinned boy was aiming his cock and peeing right into the mouth of the tiny Asian girl who was trying to catch it all! As it dribbled down her chin and her tiny nipples and toward her teeny slit, my cock shot spurt after spurt of hot cum into my nieces throat as she moaned on my member. I heard Matt moan so loud it was almost a scream, and knew he was shooting his spunk into a pussy for the first time. And his sisters pussy, no less. After wed all cum, I got concerned--a little late--about the noise wed made. But Matt confirmed that his room was virtually soundproof with the thick curtain hed hung over the door. I also found hed left his room accessible to me the other times on purpose, after Kandi had told him about my erotic-booking profession and hed videotaped me. He had wanted me to find those tapes. His room was locked this time to keep his family out. The three of us wiped ourselves off with some tissues, got dressed, then Kandi and Matt gave each other a little kiss and a long hug, and I thought cute, brotherly and sisterly love. She and I then snuck out. The rest of the family had already gone to bed. Kandi said it was OK she and Matt were up late because school was out for summer. Her Dad had work the next day, which was Monday, and her Mom and other siblings were going back to the weekday summer camp. Kandi crept into her room, I gave her a goodnight tongue kiss and a hug, this time grasping her firm little ass, and went to bed on the couch. What a night! Id told the family to wake me up before they left, and they did. I was covered with hugs and kisses from my sister Toni, my nephew Jonnie and niece Janie, and little niece Annie. I said goodbye to Tom, and was left alone with Kandi and Matt. I was too worn out to do anything, having cum more times in three days than I had in that short of a period in 15 years, but Kandi and Matt were ready to go at it. With Matts hidden cameras also running, I videotaped Kandi giving her brother head in Annies little bed, him eating pussy for the first time while she sat on the kids bathroom toilet, them fucking missionary style on Janies bed, them fucking with her on top on Jonnies bed, and even her thrusting up and down on his lap with her back to him while he fondled her breasts and sat on his parents bed. When they were through, Matt made me copies of the videos wed done and several of the others. Now Id get to see my sister and brother-in-law fucking, and Kandi even agreed to let me see the one with her, my sister and the dog. I promised that next time I visited Id let him know ahead of time about my sexual plans with his young siblings so he could capture those encounters on tape too. While much of the money hed earned had run out, I reminded him that in less than a year hed be old enough to shoot porn legally, although hed have to be careful with the kiddie stuff. He had talent, and already had lots of experience. I told him with my connections I could get him aspiring porn actors whod perform pretty cheaply, and we could go into business together. But I knew that next time I came by, I had more mysteries I wanted to solve. And I had another planned conquest, in addition to sampling some of the kids in Matts videos. Hed fucked his sister. Next time, I wanted to fuck mine! END

G E N I T A__C L A N Author: Brother Genita and Sister Genita Title: The Waltons--The Family Secret (Chapter 2 of 2) Part: 2/2 (this is one story; part 2 read out of order will make little sense) Universe: Genitaland TV, the world of television's "The Waltons" in Genitaland, and overlapping with the world of Chaseton, America Summary: In the early 1930s, 17-year-old John Boy learned some shocking family secrets involving his parents, his grandparents, and his sister. Keywords: MF, mf, bg, FF (watching and brief touching), best, fsolo, inc, mast, f1st, m1st, cons, mast, oral (brief), ped, rom, adult, senior, teen, child, ws (very mild), zoo Language: English --------------------------------- WARNING This fictional story contains explicit descriptions of sexual activity. If you are underage for your jurisdiction, or not interested in such stories, please go read something else. --------------------------------- This story is copyrighted under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. In short, you can share and adapt this work, even for commercial purposes, as long as you give appropriate credit, do no imply our endorsement of you or your work, and do indicate if changes were made. If you make changes, you must license the result under the same or an equivalent license. Donations to www.asstr.org would be appreciated. This is erotic fan fiction, and no threat to The Waltons copyright is intended. --------------------------------- Main Characters (by age): Grandpa Zeb Walton, Grandma Esther Walton, Daddy John Walton Sr., Mama Olivia Walton, Marcia Woolery, John "John Boy" Walton Jr., Mary Ellen Walton Time: The main period this story covers is spring in the early 1930s, but it contains scenes of earlier years. The central part of the story occurs at essentially the same period as "The Waltons: The Secret Recipe." As they happen more-or-less simultaneously, the two stories may be read in either order. Each will explain a few small mysteries left unexplained in the other. --------------------------------- The Waltons: The Family Secret by Brother Genita and Sister Genita Two weeks and two days after my talk with Grandpa, I was talking to Marcia Woolery after school. I'd been building up to it during that time. A warm breeze blew over us as we stood facing each other holding hands on that Monday afternoon. We were standing among the trees, a dozen or so yards away from the dirt road that led from our school house. "Do you really think we might get married someday, John Boy?" asked Marcia. "After I finish college and can support you," I said. "I think it's very likely." "And all you want to do is look," she said. "Look at what?" I heard a young girl say. "Elizabeth!" I said to my youngest sister, "what are you doing here?" "We were just walking in the woods," said my youngest brother Jim-Bob who I saw was with her. "We weren't doing nothing." "Well go do nothing somewhere else," I said. "Are you going to kiss her, John Boy?" asked Elizabeth. "Elizabeth and Jim-Bob, go home, now!" I ordered. "Brothers and sisters," I said to no one in particular. "I wish I had a brother or sister," said Marcia. "You can have some of mine," I said. "Apparently you talk quite a bit to my sister Mary Ellen." "Sometimes," she said. "She doesn't have an older sister, and she wants to learn from someone with more experience." I had planned to chastise her for telling Mary Ellen about us, but now that it had been a couple of days and I was actually with Marcia, it didn't seem to bother me so much. I waited until I was certain my siblings were gone to go back to what I wanted. "Now where were we," I said. "You said you wanted to look at me. Without my clothes on. Is that all?" "Marcia, I want to do a whole lot more than look. But I won't do anything you don't want to do." "But why on a full moon?" she asked. " I can't explain that," I said. "I just do." "Do you love me, John Boy?" "I wouldn't be talking about getting married if I didn't." "Well, in that case . . . Ok. But I can't promise more than a look." "That's all I'm asking for, Marcia." * * * * During the month I had been planning to see Marcia Woolery in the altogether, Mama and Grandma had been secretly planning what my grandmother would do with Grandpa. First Mama got Grandma to model for her privately while wearing the black and white French maid costume. Grandma practiced saying "oui monsieur," and "non monsieur," and "oui oui monsieur." All of their practices were when the two of them were alone in Grandma and Grandpa's bedroom and Grandpa was told very strictly to stay out because his wife was working on a surprise for him. It was harder a few days later to get Grandma to sit naked on the bed with my Mama Olivia, and to look at and name her "vulva" and "vagina," which my mother assured her were not dirty words but medical terms, while using a silver-colored hand mirror. It was a little easier a few days after that to get Grandma to touch her own naked body--but only above her waist and below her hips. But even when my mother was touching her own lady parts, getting Grandma to touch herself between her legs was another story. "Oh, I can't, Olivia," said Grandma Esther. "I only touch myself there with a rag when I wash or with water closet paper after I relieve myself." "Haven't you ever touched yourself--your vulva--otherwise?" "Well, maybe a couple of times. And once a month when I have to . . . lubricate myself for Zeb. But I don't think it's right. A woman's body is made for her husband, not for herself. I even told Mary Ellen and Erin not to touch their lady parts unless it was a necessity. I told Mary Ellen several times." "Oh, Grandma," my Mama said to her mother-in-law. "I wish you hadn't told them that. Knowing Mary Ellen, she probably found a way around it, but I don't know about Erin. I'll have to have a talk with those girls." "Grandma," my mother continued, but then said "Esther. A wife pleasuring herself is a pleasure to her husband. I'm touching my vulva, and it's a pleasure to me." Finally, Grandma hesitantly, tentatively, touched herself between her legs. After having washed her hands three times. "Oh," she said, "that does feel nice, touching my lady parts." "Touching what?" said Olivia. "My, my vulva, the lips of, of my . . . vagina." "That's better," said my mother. "Now rub it more. Think of things very pleasant and romantic and exciting. A walk with Zeb through the trees, or alone on a picnic, or eating a candlelit supper, or riding in a small boat on a river. The two of you alone together." "I'm thinking, Olivia," said Grandma. After a while, Grandma suddenly stopped. "What did you stop for?" asked my mother who continued caressing her own nether lips. "I'm, I'm getting, well, moist down there," said Grandma. "I should stop." "Don't stop. You're lubricating," said my mother. "Oh, I've never done that without Zeb. When we're, together, sometimes I use a little warm lard . . . " "Lard?" said Olivia. "Women have been using petroleum jelly for years. It works wonders. I'll get you some." Olivia soon returned with a jar she handed to Grandma who, after some hesitation, began rubbing it on the lips of her vagina. "That's nice," said Grandma. "Olivia," said Grandma after a while. "I heard that sometimes women, younger women, sometimes when they're joined with their husbands . . . " "Mating," said Olivia. "Sometimes they get as . . . excited as the men until they, well, lose control of their bodies and have spasms." "It's called an 'orgasm,' Esther," said my mother Olivia. "That's not good, is it?" "Oh, it's wonderful," said Olivia. "It's the best feeling in the world. Haven't you ever experienced an orgasm?" "No, I don't think so." "Well, I'll show you how. When you're feeling very excited, you can stick your finger inside your vagina." "Oh, I could never do that." "You let Zeb inside there, don't you?" "Only because I have to," said Esther. "Well let's try rubbing something even better. Up at the top of your vulva there's a little fleshy bump. You don't want to touch it much when you start, but after you're feeling exciting, rubbing it can feel heavenly." "A bump?" asked my Grandmother. "Feel for it," said my mother. But after a while, my Grandmother gave up. "I don't think I have one, Olivia." "Well sure you do," said my mother. "Want me to help you find it?" "Oh no, I could never . . . " "You'd let a nurse or doctor touch you there, wouldn't you?" "Only if it was a woman . . . oh, I see what you mean. All right, Olivia, show me." My mother didn't have to feel very long until she found it. "Oh," said my Grandmother. "It's too sensitive. That almost hurts." "You aren't stimulated enough, Grandma. Keep rubbing and thinking. And use some more petroleum jelly." After a while, my grandmother said, "Oh, Olivia, I touched it and now it feels very nice. Oh, Olivia!" "Try sticking a finger inside your vagina and rubbing at the same time. That will give you a feel of what it's like rubbing yourself while Zeb is inside you." "Ok, Olivia. Oh, this feels very nice. . . Very nice . . . Oh, Olivia. I think I might just have an organism." "Orgasm," said my mother. "Orgasm. I might just have one." In the next few minutes both Grandma and my mother grew more and more excited. Both of them were thinking of their respective husbands, but they wouldn't admit to each other that seeing another woman pleasuring herself was also quite stimulating. Finally, it happened. My grandmother Esther had lubricated and rubbed and fantasized her gray-haired vulva and wet vagina to the ultimate. "Oh, Olivia," she said. "I'm having an orgasm! Oh, Olivia!" "Me too, Grandma; me too!" said my mother. After a few moments, my grandmother said, "Oh, thank you, Olivia. After all these years. I would hug you if we weren't both . . . nude. Naked. We're both naked and we both just pleasured ourselves together. And now I can do it with Zeb!" But Grandma still washed her hands six times. * * * * "Do you have any idea what this 'surprise' that your Ma is planning for me is?" Grandpa asked John my father. The two of them were alone taking a work break, sitting in our family sawmill. "None, Pa, except I know Olivia is helping her with it." "Well, I have some idea," said Grandpa, grinning to the point of almost cackling. "I saw Esther, your mother, hiding a black and white French maid costume." "What for?" my father asked. Then he saw how much his father Zeb was grinning. "Oh," he said. "Pa, I really don't need to know about that. What you and Ma do when you're alone together is your own business." "Oh, you always were a little prudish for a Walton man," said my grandfather. "Speaking of French girls, I should tell you about that French chorus girl I saw dancing during the Spanish-American War." "You've told me about her many times. Pa . . . or do you mean about her private show? You said I had to wait until I'd been married 20 years to hear that. It hasn't been 20 years." "Close enough," said Grandpa. "Considering all that's been happening lately . . . The private show was just for a few of us select Army men, a very few. The beginning of her show was exactly the same as the public one. She danced wearing . . . " ". . . Black silk stockings and peacock feathers and little else," said my father. "Then she stripped and those were all she wore." "Yes, and she was as beautiful and well made as you could imagine, son, with pert little breasts with dark pointy nipples, a round little white belly and a dark brown bush at the top of her creamy white legs. But then things got so extreme . . . This is the part I haven't told you. She had a pet that was a wolf, part dog I think, that came out. Son, you simply will not believe this. The creature went straight to her, and right away starting licking her between her legs! Licking her furry vulva right there in front of us!" "Oh, Pa, I didn't need to hear that." "But the girl liked it very much, very much," said Grandpa, tittering. "The creature kept licking and licking and she began moaning louder and louder. Then she screamed! She really screamed! Oh John. We knew the greatest show we would ever see was over." "Fine. Now can we go back to . . . " "But it wasn't. She asked for a volunteer from the audience, the very small audience, all service men. I raised my hand, but for some reason she picked Henry. I outranked him and was more rugged and muscular than he was, but she picked him. She told him to take off all his clothes which he did. "Then she got some maple syrup and poured it into her hand. She took her hand and started rubbing it into his male member, his penis, and his testicles. His penis was as hard and erect as any you'd ever see." "Pa . . . " "Then she called her wolf-dog over, and the creature started licking him, licking his penis and testicles and licking and licking. You could tell Henry was in heaven. He was practically drooling as he gazed feverishly at the beautiful French chorus girl standing next to him naked while being licked to the point of no return. Then suddenly he cried out, 'Fifi!'" He shot spurts of white cream into the air and on himself and on the floor and on the girl and even on the wolf. Then the animal licked that up to!" said my grandfather, laughing a big belly laugh. "Pa, I waited almost 20 years to hear that? I could have waited another 20. That's perverted." "You know, son, in some parts of Europe and the Far East, wives do that to their husbands. Lick their male members, I mean." "Not in America, Pa," said my father. "No, in America 19-year-old men impregnate unmarried 15-year-old girls." "You know I didn't plan it that way, Pa; I planned to marry Olivia long before Lunette was born. If her mother hadn't stopped us getting married . . . I never did figure out what changed her mind. Why did she wait until after Olivia left town to go to her aunt's and gave up Lunette for adoption and then let us get married? We'll never know our first child, our oldest daughter. It still hurts, Pa." "I'm sorry, son, for bringing it up. Let's talk about something else. Like your oldest son and what he's about to do with Marcia Woolery." "What's that?" asked my father. "What you did, with Olivia. Don't you know?" "Oh Pa," said my father John. "Don't let him do it. I wish he'd talk to me about those things, but I always get my tongue tied up." "Oh, he'll be protected," my Grandpa Zeb said. "I'm getting him some sheep skin prophylactics." "And how are you getting those?" my father asked. "Oh, I have someone who will give them to me. He told me, 'Zeb Walton, if you have a need for them at your age, I'll be happy to give some to you without charge.'" "Well," said my father, "John Boy is 17. And as long as he's protected so he doesn't have to go through what I went through . . . " * * * * It was perhaps the longest four weeks of my life, but finally, Saturday, the day of the full moon, came. Marcia Woolery barely talked to me at school on Friday the day before. She had responded with no more than a slight smile when I said to her, "Tomorrow, 10 p.m., in the barn. Be there." Grandma and Grandpa had each, separately, been anticipating that night themselves. Grandpa had given no hint to his wife that he knew at least part of her secret. That night at 9 p.m., he lay in bed with his body in his light-colored long johns and his eyes closed in anticipation. He had bathed, his wife Esther bathing separately, and his blond-white hair on his head and even the gray hair on his mustache were brushed. Their small bedroom was lit by candlelight with a hint through the curtain of the light of the full moon. Esther had told him to keep his eyes closed and to not fall asleep. But sleep was the furthest thing from his mind. Finally his wife Esther said, "I'm ready, monsieur. You may open your eyes." Grandpa saw his wife lit by candles and moonlight. She was coming out of a curtsey in the shortest thing Grandpa had ever seen her wear, her legs exposed three or four inches above her knees. Her short black French maid dress had short sleeves and a skirt with white lace on the bottom and over it a white lacy apron. Her face was made up more than he'd seen in decades and her gray hair was pulled back and almost unseen behind a lacy white maid's cap. Her legs were as shapely as they had been 30 years before. "Oh, Esther," said Zeb, "you're beautiful." "Call me 'Fifi,'" said Esther. "Fifi?" said my grandfather, stroking his gray mustache. "Oh no, you went to all this trouble for me and are looking so beautiful and desirable. I want to call you by your name, 'Esther.'" "No, Zeb; if you call me Esther I can't do it. It has to be Fifi, monsieur" said my grandmother. "All right, then, Fifi," said Grandpa, grinning to the point of chuckling with delight. "Now, monsieur," she said. "While I turn my back, remove all of your clothes." "Oh yes, I'll do it, Fifi," said Grandpa as she turned her back. He got out of his long underwear faster than he'd done since the day his cousin dropped a lit cigar on his lap. He hadn't even touched his male member, but it was already halfway erect. "I'm ready, Fifi," he said. She sat on the bed, and Grandpa started to move, expecting her to lie on her back as always. But she said, "no, monsieur, stay as you are. But close your eyes." He did, and she kissed him. She kissed him in a way she seldom kissed, hard. They kissed for a while, his eyes still closed, and soon Grandma was using her tongue in his mouth almost as vigorously as he was using his in hers. Grandpa's eyes still closed, Grandma removed her panties and used her fingers to rub some petroleum jelly into her nether regions, surprised to find her vulva in its nest of gray hair was already moistened. She wiped her hand thoroughly with a rag, but did not wash it. She sat facing away from Zeb, her buttocks resting on his thighs, his nearly erect penis touching her bottom. She took his hands in hers, and put them over her breasts, still covered by her maid's clothes. They felt firmer through the fabric. Then Grandma said, "Open your eyes, monsieur." "Yes, Fifi," said Grandpa. "They're open wide." "I will stay this way, my back to you, so you can, so you can imagine me looking however you like." Grandpa was astonished to see the back of his wife, the maid, with her right hand in front obviously rubbing herself between her legs! He had never seen her do that. After watching for a while, he couldn't resist, and reached his strong right hand around and started rubbing her too. It took Grandma by shock and she almost told him to stop. But she did not, and found she very much liked her husband's hand touching her--dare she say it? "I love the way you touch my, my vulva, monsieur." "Oh, Es--Fifi," said Grandpa. "Me too." After a few more moments, Grandma was the readiest she had ever felt. "Monsieur, I am ready for you to enter me, please, monsieur, please." And Grandpa did. She sat on him, still facing away, using her hand to guide his erect penis under her buttocks and into her willing vagina. It took a moment, for she had never done it this way before. But he entered her finally, and she felt him filling her. She rubbed herself, and remembered to stimulate the nub, the bump above her vulva. She moved up and down. As aroused as she was, she began to tire. But Grandpa grabbed her waist from both sides, and his strong arms lifted her up, then lowered her down, then lifted her again. The moving up and down and the lubrication and the candles and moonlight and her waist and her bottom and her wet vagina rubbing over his manhood and Grandpa felt the surge. He howled his wolf howl as he shot his spunk more forcefully than he had in a long time, deep into Grandma's vagina. For the first time in years, he had been thinking only of his wife. After a moment, he said, "that was wonderful." He thought the most wonderful night of his wedded life since his honeymoon was over, and had now become a cherished memory. From another room, Ben said, "there's the full moon wolf again." But in my grandparents' bedroom, Grandma was still moving up and down on Grandpa's erect member. "Help me, monsieur," she said. "Help you?" said Grandpa, astonished. "After I'm finished? Oh my. Yes, certainly." He fully cooperated, using his wood-hauling arms to move her small body up and down. Then Grandma did something Grandpa had never heard. She cried out, "Zeb, I'm having an orgasm, oh Zeb!" The family couldn't understand the words, but the sound carried through the house. "I heard something else," said Erin. "What was that, John Boy?" "John Boy's asleep . . . probably asleep," said John quickly. He and my mother were both wiping themselves off with rags after their joining. "All of you go back to sleep." But to his wife he said, "Olivia. That wasn't just my Pa this time. Do you think Ma's all right?" "She's fine, John Walton, maybe better than she's ever been," said Olivia. "Everything is Ok." "I hope John Boy's Ok," said my father to himself. "Why wouldn't he be?" asked Olivia. "Never mind," said my father. "Let's just go to sleep." * * * * I had planned to meet Marcia Woolery in the barn at 10 p.m. I chose the late hour first because I knew my family would be asleep and wouldn't miss me, especially as I had my own bedroom, and second because I didn't want Marcia coming to our barn to the sound of Grandpa's monthly howl and being frightened away by 'the full moon wolf.'" I felt overdressed for the barn, but not for her. I wore a long sleeve white button shirt with small dark gray spots under a beige with black stripes sweater vest. The top of my shirt was fastened by a dark brown bowtie with light oval spots. My slacks were brown, held by a dark belt, and my shoes and socks were both brown. At 20 minutes after, I began to wonder if she was coming at all. I had gotten to the barn early, about 8:30, so I could prepare an area for us. I had thoroughly cleaned a corner of the barn floor, and covered it with fresh hay. I then unfolded and spread out a freshly washed red and green blanket and repositioned it over the hay five times. I had a jar of red glass holding the Baldwin Sister's recipe mixed with lemonade and extra sugar. Everyone knew what they called "the recipe" was moonshine--except for them. I hoped Marcia would like it as much as I did, and that it would help relieve some of our nervousness. Perhaps things would go further than my getting a peek at what I imagined to be her wondrous body. I also had what Grandpa had given me, a sheep skin prophylactic. I did not plan to go that far, but he told me to keep it ready just in case. The Baldwin Sisters had given me the red jar of lemony brew for "culmination of services duly rendered." I figured the phrase had come from their late father the judge, but I wasn't sure exactly what services it referred to. But right then I didn't care. While I had prepared the barn, Chance, our family's brown cow, had largely ignored me. She even slept through Grandpa's wolf howl; I supposed she had gotten used to it. She woke up and mooed a bit as if she were frightened a little later, but I didn't know by what. But I wasn't thinking much about our cow. I was feeling the Walton full-moon stirring in my blood, and was fighting letting my hand relieve the building pressure. Finally, a little after 10:30, I heard the gentle tapping on the barn door that meant the girl I had prepared for was there. I opened the door, and there was Marcia Woolery. She wasn't wearing an evening dress, I guessed because we weren't meeting at a dance but in the barn. She had on a short sleeved white and blue gingham dress that blossomed at her bosom, then was gathered at her waist, then softly widened from her waist through her hips. Her shoes were dark leather. "I couldn't wear white shoes out here," she said when she noticed me looking at her feet. Her soft light brown hair lit by moonlight was worn in a bun with a white American dogwood flower, the state flower of Virginia, in the right side of her hair. But what I noticed most was her face which looked ready for a dance. She wore lipstick, red and wet, and a little rouge on her cheeks. Her deep brown eyes were highlighted somehow when they looked up at me, but most of the time they were looking down. I closed the barn door behind us. "You're beautiful, Marcia Woolery," I said. I suddenly felt overdressed in my brown slacks and leather shoes, light long sleeve shirt fastened with a brown spotted bowtie with a brown sweater vest over it. "I almost didn't come, John Boy," Marcia said. "Well, I'm glad you did." "John Boy," she said, looking at me with doey eye, "are you sure you love me?" "Yes, I am, Marcia Woolery." I said. "You are my girl, my queen. Why can't a girl be queenly, and give the gift of herself?" I said, slightly misquoting Lawrence. "Your queen? Oh John Boy, you have such a way with words. I noticed something too, with words. Woolery sounds almost like Walton," she said. "Yes it does," I agreed. We talked and held hands. I released her and said "Marcia, I have something special for tonight. I've saved it for you." Then I brought out the jar of the recipe mixed with spicy lemonade I had saved for a special occasion. "The Baldwin Sisters make a special type of lemonade." "I know, it's delicious," she said. "Or so I've heard. It's partly the recipe, right?" We shared the spiced lemonade whiskey, both drinking out of the same jar. We held and caressed each other's clothed bodies while sitting on the red and green blanket. We kissed, our lips wet with our own licking, and our tongues entered and moved wetly inside each other's mouth. She suddenly broke from a kiss and said, breathlessly, "I'm ready, John Boy. I'm ready to show myself to you. Are you ready?" "I have been for a month," I said. She stood and turned with her back to me. She undid her light brown hair, and it fell long and flowing over her back. The white flower was still in her hair. She turned and looked at me over her shoulder, still keeping her back to me. "Are you ready, John Boy?" she asked. I said "yes." Somehow, while I watched her back, she did something, I don't know what. But suddenly her white and blue checkered dress was sliding down and she was stepping out of it. I saw her pink back and waist and full rounded buttocks over two wonderfully shapely legs. I had thought I'd see the back of her panties and brassiere, but she was wearing nothing save her white flower in her hair and her dark shoes on her feet. As she kicked off her shoes, I caught a quick glimpse of something dark brown at the top of her thighs just below her bottom. "Oh Marcia," I said. "You're beautiful. You are a queen, my queen." Then she turned suddenly to face me. I saw her pale shoulders, and there were her small but firm and full breasts, with nipples smaller than in some of the pictures I'd seen, but larger than mine. Her breasts were like, yet not like, those of the women I'd seen nude in black and white photographs. They hung higher than Clara Bow's, were rounder than Olive Borden's, and had two points more prominent than Paulette Goddard's. They were like two ripe pink tomatoes with small dark nipples where the leaves and stems would have been. I looked beneath her breasts at her belly, a bit rounder than Jean Harlow's with her inward navel in the center, and below that saw a garden patch of curled hair, darker and fuller than Mary Ellen's, that grew above her wonderfully shapely legs and naked feet. She was naked, completely, save for the white American dogwood flower in her hair. She stepped toward me, breathing as if she had been running. She touched me as I stood, and before I knew it her hands and mine has removed my long sleeved blue dotted white shirt, my suspenders were gone, my shoes and socks were off, and my brown pants and white briefs were lying on the hay. She kissed me suddenly, and I kissed back. My member was actually touching her lower belly, looking for a way in. Both of our bodies were shaking. She suddenly pulled away. "Oh John Boy," she said, "I don't know what's happening to me. I don't know. Look at me." I certainly had been looking, but then I noticed a bit of liquid flowing slowly like molasses down her legs from her bush. I thought at first she was peeing, but then I remembered what I had read when sneaking a peek at a book at the Baldwin Sisters'. She was wet with excitement. "Oh John Boy," she said. "I'm, I'm dripping!" I was dripping too. Liquid was seeping from the small opening at the head of my penis. "Marcia," I said, maybe we should stop." But she ignored my advice. Both still standing, she pressed her naked body again to mine. Our hands were everywhere, exploring each other's glistening naked bodies, our backs, our chests, our buttocks, our groins. Soon my mouth was at her left breast, and her soft hand was firmly stroking me while I was touching her between her legs in the way Grandpa had told me a man could do. I knew, and knew that she knew, that we were not going to stop. "John Boy," she panted as she stroked my engorged member while I stroked her wet bushy flesh between her perspiring and dripping thighs. "Before we do . . . 'it,' there's something I . . . oh, that is nice . . . I have to tell you." "Ok, Marcia but make it quick. I don't think I can hold off much longer." Her hand around my engorged member was heaven. "John Boy, I'm not 17." " Marcia, right now I don't care how old you are," I said. "But I'm older than you. You should know that. I'm really 19. I started school late, then . . . oh John Boy . . . was held back in school a year as a young girl before . . . oh, so nice . . . before we moved back here." "Marcia, I don't care if you're twenty . . . or twenty seven," I said, feeling her wetness all over my fingers and even in my hand. "You're my queen." "And John Boy," she said, stroking my erection, "please, before we, before we do it, when we do it . . . " "Yes?" "I always . . . imagined my, my husband, when we were alone, together like this, would call me, would call me by my middle name, my secret name." "I didn't know you, you had a middle name," I said, my blood boiling in my loins. "I never use it, I saved it for him, for you. John Boy, call me, oh John Boy . . . " "Call you what?" I said. "Call me . . . Lunette." * * * * "Lunette?" thought my sister Mary Ellen hiding in the barn loft. Her right hand was thrust down the side of her blue bib overalls and into the area below the hair of her private area. She was fondling her lady lips with her index finger moving wetly inside. She was surprised to feel her own womanly juices dripping down her legs, feeling much wetter than she had been so far. Her left hand was fondling her own breasts which were free from her light long sleeve unbuttoned shirt. Mary Ellen spoke very quietly to herself while she watched us, using the nastiest words she knew. "Do it, John Boy, put your erect penis inside Marcia Woolery's vagina, her wet cave of flesh that's made for a man's penis to enter and explore and thrust and ejaculate inside. Do I while I watch." * * * * I didn't know Mary Ellen's thoughts, or that she was there at all, watching us from the loft inside the barn Marcia and I were standing in naked. But I knew my own thoughts. "I have to get something, Marcia," I said. I pulled away with difficultly, grabbed my discarded pants and reached into my right front pocket. I took out the sheep skin prophylactic in its small package that Grandpa had given me. I had already used one to practice, especially the part where I would hold the base of it before I pulled out so I wouldn't leave it behind and useless. "This will keep you from becoming with child," I said. I opened its package and slid it on. At the same time, Marcia had lain on the blanket on her back, her knees high and bent and spread wide apart. She was opened and waiting for me to slide in. She was wetter than a ripe slit in a squeezed lemon. I mounted her, feeling like a wild dog, a wolf. I missed her opening the first time and the second, but entered her on the third. I could not believe how it felt. We moved together, our perspiring bodies slapping against each other. I was surprised at the sound but found I liked it. It sounded obscene like the words of D. H. Lawrence. "Oh Marcia," I said. "Lunette," she reminded. "Lunette, I'm inside you, inside your . . . your vagina. My penis is inside your vagina." "Oh John Boy," she said, "keep talking like that." "We're joining, mating, Marcia, Lunette, we're . . . we're fucking!" "Oh John Boy!" "My erect penis is fucking your cunt!" I said. "Yes, John Boy, yes, we're . . . we're fucking! We're mating! Oh John Boy, oh . . . John Boy! Fuck me, John Boy, fuck me!" she screamed. I had been close, but as soon as I heard her scream, I was screaming too. "Lunette!" I spurted gobs of semen, filling the prophylactic inside her. As I looked down where we connected, I saw that somehow the white dogwood flower she had worn in her hair had fallen in her lap. While we were screaming together, it seemed as if I heard, "John Boy!" but it wasn't from Marcia. It sounded like Mary Ellen, but I was sure it couldn't have been. Without knowing it, while I was inside my girlfriend was I actually thinking of my oldest sister? * * * * Barely awake, when they heard the screams, John and Olivia each smiled to themselves, but for different reasons. John thought, "My son has finally done it," and Olivia thought, "Esther and Zeb have done it again." Fortunately, the rest of the family was asleep and heard nothing. * * * * The thrill I had felt telling Grandpa about Marcia Woolery and I joining for the first time fell like a fragile flower vase to the concrete, shattering to pieces. I started shaking in shock Sunday afternoon outside when Grandpa told me the secret after I had shared with him, what I had finally done with Marcia. He did not know Marcia's background until I told him her middle name. Then he told me the story of my father and mother's secret daughter born before they were married, the story of Lunette. I had mated my own sister. Grandpa and I were sitting on a log in the dip in Walton's Mountain where we had been before. I was so confused and astonished I was shaking out tears. "How could you not have told me, Grandpa?" I cried. "I didn't know myself, John Boy, that Marcia was Lunette, not until you told me her middle name. It is a secret that must remain secret. You must not tell anyone, not your parents, and especially not Marcia. Not, at least, until your grandmother and I, and your mother and father, are all gone. And I'd never tell her." "But Grandpa, how can I even live with myself? After what I did? I wish I was dead." "John Boy, it's not your fault. You didn't know . . . John Boy, I'm going to tell you something else. Something that might help you feel like you're not alone in this." "Oh, Grandpa, not another secret." "I never planned to tell anyone this, ever. You have to swear me a solemn oath never to tell anyone, not as long your parents and grandparents are alive. Right now, I am the only person in the world who knows this." "Grandpa . . . " "Swear it, John Boy. I have to tell you this. You are so despondent, the truth of your background just might save your life." "I swear," I said. "I told you I had an affair when your Uncle Ben and your father, my son John, were quite young. And that the woman I had the dalliance with was married and produced a daughter." "Yes, Grandpa." "But I did not tell you the woman's name." "Was it 'Fifi?" I asked. "Fifi? No," said Grandpa. "Fifi wasn't the French chorus girl I met; it was the name of her wolf." "Oh," I said. I hadn't yet heard the story of what the wolf had done to the French woman or the army man Henry, so had no idea how to interpret that. Nor, right then, did I care. Grandpa continued. "Forget the girl and her wolf. John Boy, the last name of the woman I had the affair with, the one I produced a daughter with, was Daly." "Daly? You mean she was someone in Grandma's family, my other grandma?" "Yes," said Grandpa. "Oh, Grandpa, you don't mean, you don't mean you did it with both my grandmothers?" "Yes, John Boy, I did." "But that means . . . Aunt Frances is your daughter? You're the father of my mother's sister?" "No, John Boy, not your Aunt Frances." "But who else could it be? It couldn't be . . . no, no, no, I won't believe it." "It's true, John Boy. My daughter, born out of wedlock, is . . . Olivia, your mother. But don't you ever, ever tell anybody, as long as we live. You made a solemn oath." "But, but Daddy's your son. Mama and Daddy are brother and sister?" "Half brother and sister," said Grandpa. "When I had that affair with your other grandmother, she wasn't your grandmother, of course, just another woman. I had no idea that years later my daughter by her would fall in love with my son by Esther. That's why your late maternal grandmother forbid her daughter Olivia marrying my son John, because she believed they were half brother and sister, which was the truth. "But then I told your mama's mother that, when we were together years before, I had been completely sterile as verified by a doctor. Olivia could not be my child, but was the legitimate offspring of her now late husband, your other grandfather. It was a lie, of course. Olivia was mine. "She, like me, you, your father, your brother Jason, your sister Lunette, and by now probably your sister Mary Ellen, are all Waltons who feel the stirring of the moon. Why do you think Marcia--Lunette--opened up to you so quickly? It wasn't just the recipe with lemonade. It was the full moon. I would be very careful, John Boy, to not be alone with Mary Ellen during the night of a full moon. Your other brothers and sisters will feel it someday, when they're mature; Erin might be close. It's in the Walton blood, and has been since your great-great grandfather first claimed Walton's Mountain and christened it by being joined with his wife under the light of a full moon. "But oh, I should have told your maternal grandmother that lie long before, long before your mother gave birth to Lunette. It's my fault she had to leave her home for months and hide at the home of her aunt in Alberene. May God forgive me that I waited so long to let my son and daughter, your mother and father, be married. But I had been very worried about incest too, until I learned how prominent it was in the Bible. "But finally I told the lie, and your late maternal grandmother believed that her daughter, Olivia, was produced by her husband, your late maternal grandfather. Then she let the marriage of your future mother and father, Olivia Daly and John Walton, happen." "But Grandpa! Why didn't you stop it? Why didn't you stop me?" "I told you, John Boy, I didn't know Marcia was your sister Lunette until you told me that was her name. I didn't even know she was adopted, and she might not know, so I wouldn't tell her that either. "But as to your parents, who am I to stop love? Eve was made of Adam's flesh, closer than brother and sister, and their offspring had to produce offspring with either their parents or siblings. God made it that way. And Abraham was blessed by God in his union with his half sister Sarah. And Noah and his sons and their wives, they had to have interbred. God made it that way too. So many in the Bible, John Boy, were produced by incest. Your mother and father, my daughter and son, produced seven healthy--eight healthy--children. Let it go, John Boy, let it go." * * * * "Eventually I did let it go, and never revealed any of it until after Grandma and Grandpa, and Mama and Daddy, were long gone. My mother and father never learned the true nature of their relationship. "Marcia and I never married, of course. She eventually learned she had been adopted, but I never told her that she was my sister, a secret only Grandpa and I knew. She married and was later killed in a car accident while much too young, and I dearly miss her. "After a while, when I was 17, the Walton household returned to normalcy, or as normal as it could be considering the family secret." --Narrator, John Walton Jr. in middle age * * * * On a Saturday night, a little while after 9 p.m., and two weeks after Grandma first wore her French maid costume for Grandpa, we heard what sounded like the howling of a wolf. "Daddy," shouted Erin from the girls' bedroom. "Is that the full-moon wolf?" "Erin," said Mary Ellen, "Quiet or you'll wake up Elizabeth." "But it's not the full moon," said Erin. "It is now," said Daddy, smiling at the thought of what had apparently just happened in his Ma and Pa's bedroom. "It is now. Go back to sleep." END

Themes or Playing Truth or Dare with my Tomboy Cousin on the Farm during Summer Vacation Felix Phile November 2000 email: [email protected] website: www.asstr.org/~FelixPhile * This is an attempt to cover in a single story many of the themes used in my favourite stories by other authors. As I am travelling a well-worn path, do not expect to find anything of great originality. Rather, think of it as variations on a theme. This is also the longest story that I've written to date, so I'd appreciate any comments regarding its quality versus my other stories. I'd like to thank my fan/editor/reviewer for his help on this story. He knows who he is. * Chapter 1 The summer that I was sixteen I stayed for a month on my aunt's farm. I was a city boy, born and raised, and I didn't know thing one about farm life. That was going to change. My aunt and cousins lived on a farm that had been in our family for many generations. My uncle had died many years before and it had been up to my aunt to keep the farm going. My aunt was quite a bit older than my mother and had her children late, so she was probably almost sixty by this time. At first Aunt Mary had run the farm with hired help, but gradually my cousins had taken over a lot of the work as they grew up. Tom was the older of my two cousins. He had just finished high school and would be starting at a local college in the fall. Karen was close to my age, about six months older than me. I never knew my cousins very well. The farm was about five hours drive from the city where I lived and we just never seemed to get together very often. My aunt and my mother were sisters, but not very close. They were very different people and never had much time for each other. My mother was a liberal urban professional. My aunt was a church-going conservative farm-wife. Every now and then they would manage to get the families together, but in recent years I always seemed to be doing something else when it was time to make the trip. Tom wanted to take some time to himself before college and was backpacking around the interior of British Columbia with some friends. This meant that they were going to be short of hands for a month, so my aunt thought that I fill in. She said it would be a good way for us to spend some time together and we all agreed it would be a good idea. ~ So one Monday morning we hauled my suitcase and duffle bag down to the bus depot and I climbed aboard for the long trip to the farm. My aunt would meet me at the other end, at the stop near the farm. I spent a good part of the trip wondering if I'd made a mistake and was going to regret wasting the last days of summer vacation working on the farm. The bus shuddered to a halt and the driver called out 'Smithwater'. Realizing that it was finally my stop after hours of butt-numbing travel, I climbed out of my seat and worked my way to the front of the bus and down the steps to the road. The driver had already opened the luggage racks in the side of the bus. I pointed out my suitcase and bag for the driver to pull out. I slung the bag over my shoulder and grabbed the suitcase as the bus pulled away. Looking around I spotted my aunt coming out of the general store with a bag in one hand. She saw me and walked over. Holding me at arm's length, she looked me up and down, then said, "Well, you're certainly my sister's boy. Give me a kiss." She offered me her cheek for a polite peck. I carried my stuff over to her car and put it in the trunk. The car was a big old Buick sedan of some kind. It had once been a dark green but was now much lighter in colour. We got in and she drove us off down the road. During the trip to the farm Aunt Mary filled me in on the arrangements for my stay. It turned out that there wasn't going to be all that much work to do. They had once been in the business of raising cattle for slaughter but there just wasn't enough money in it these days, especially if they had to hire people to help out. So instead they just rented out most of the pasture to other farmers, boarded a few horses for a circus in the off-season, and raised some animals for their own use. Aunt Mary managed to get by on her husband's pension benefits and some other bits from here and there. I would have chores to do but I'd still have a fair bit of time to myself. It didn't take long to get to the farm and soon I was carrying my stuff up to the house. They lived in the old farmhouse, made out of stone gathered from around the farm when it was originally cleared. Aunt Mary led me up stairs to where I'd be sleeping. Since Tom was going to be away, I'd be staying in his room. She said that he'd cleared out a couple of drawers in the dresser for me to use. There were two bedrooms on the top floor, used by Karen and Tom, along with the bathroom. After I'd put down my luggage, Aunt Mary took me on a tour of the house. On the main floor was the kitchen, living room, dining room, and a room that my aunt used for her bedroom. The dining room and living room were really just one room separated by a huge stone fireplace that had once heated the house. The basement was mostly one big area with laundry, furnace and storage, but there was a small room at the back which had a couch and TV. As we were finishing the tour we heard a door open and Aunt Mary said, "Oh, that must be Karen now." We went back upstairs and sure enough, my cousin Karen had just come through the door into the kitchen. I recognized her even though we hadn't seen each other in years. She looked pretty much the same, just a little bigger. Karen was a slim girl who stood about three inches shorter than my five foot ten. She was dressed in a sleeveless flannel shirt and jeans cut off just above the knee. I would later find out that this almost a uniform with her during the summer. I saw a pleasant face topped by wavy brown hair that was kept quite short. In those clothes she could have passed for a boy of about twelve, if not for her eyes. But those eyes gave her away; green, the colour of moss on the side of a fir tree, framed by exquisite lashes. No one who saw those eyes would mistake her for a boy. I extended my hand and Karen reached out to shake it, then looked down at the grease covering her palm. "Oops, sorry, I was working on the bike," she said. She went over to the sink and started washing up. As she did we made pleasantries over the noise of the running water. "How are you doing? How was the trip up?" "Oh, I'm fine. The bus was okay, just kind of boring. How are you?" We went on like this as Karen finished cleaning up, then moved to the dining room while she set the table for dinner. As we were doing this, Aunt Mary was putting together a meal of cold chicken and salads from the fridge. She explained that she wasn't sure how hungry I'd be so she didn't want to fix a big meal. As we ate we continued to update each other on our current situation, school, plans for the future, hobbies, that sort of thing. It turned out that Karen's 'bike' was a 125cc dirt bike that someone had abandoned and she was getting running again. After supper we had coffee in the living room. We talked until I tried to stifle a yawn. Aunt Mary noticed and suggested that we call it a night; Karen would get me set up with whatever I needed. I said goodnight and we headed upstairs. After we parted I went into Tom's room and looked around. It looked like a typical teenage male's room except that he'd obviously cleaned up knowing that I'd be using it. I unpacked some of my belongings and put them into the dresser drawers. I went through the usual preparation for bed, including pulling out the novel I'd been reading on the bus. After trying to read the same paragraph five times I decided I should give up and go to sleep. Chapter 2 The next morning I was roused by Aunt Mary calling me to breakfast. I got out of bed with my usual morning stiffy waving about and went to the bathroom. After finally managing to piss things settled down and I went downstairs. After breakfast I went for a shower. As I washed my erection started to return and I was tempted to do something to take care of it, but I knew Karen was waiting her turn for a shower. The plan for the day was that Karen would show me around the farm and we would load some hay into the loft of the barn. After dressing I met Karen in the kitchen and we headed out. The first place she showed me was the chicken coop. They kept about a dozen chickens so that they could have fresh eggs for themselves and some neighbours. The place was a literal shit-hole; I mean it was about a foot deep in a mixture of chicken-shit and straw. Karen explained that it was one of those things that they always meant to take care of but never did. Next we went to the barn. It had once been used for the beef cattle but now it was mostly empty. At one end was the motorcycle that she'd been working on as well as a bench covered in tools. Above it all was the hayloft with steep stairs leading up and an open area for tossing down bales. They didn't need much hay these days, but kept some for the horses that got boarded at the farm. After that we walked up to the field to see the horses, then off through the wood that grew in one corner of the farm. There was a swampy area in the middle of the wood, created by the little creek that flowed through the swamp. It was quite pretty with wild flowers and bullrushes. The tour took most of the morning so we went back to the farmhouse for lemonade and lunch. After lunch we headed back to the barn where there was a wagonload of hay to be put into the loft. Since the loft was about ten feet off the ground we were going to use this cranky old conveyor-belt contraption to get the bales up there. Karen started it going while I climbed onto the wagon. I started to toss bales onto the belt as Karen monitored the machine. The bales would go up the belt and fall off the end into a pile in the loft. When Karen was satisfied it was working okay she grabbed a bale and tossed it on the belt. The first time she bent over to do this her shirt fell open and I caught a flash of white. I paused for a moment until she stood up and then I threw my bale on the belt. I waited while Karen bent over to take another bale and watched carefully. This time I saw right down her shirt to see a plain white bra containing small but developing breasts. 'Shit, she's got tits!' I thought. I'd been thinking that she was still the skinny twelve-year-old I'd known before. Karen threw the bale on and reached for another. Again I looked down her shirt. Being sixteen and not having jerked-off that morning I quickly developed a hard-on. Almost mesmerized, I stood there, staring down her shirt, trying to see every detail. Karen threw one more bale on the conveyor and then turned to look at me. Since she was on the ground and I was on the wagon, her eyes were level with my crotch. Karen must have noticed the bulge in my pants because she just stood there and stared at my crotch for a moment. When she realized that she was staring she looked up at me and saw that I was looking down at her partly open shirt. I'm not sure who was more embarrassed but Karen's face was turning red. She stammered out, "I'd better go in the loft and move some bales. You finish down here." With that she went inside and up the stairs. I went back to work loading bales onto the conveyor, thinking about what I'd seen. All of a sudden my skinny cousin had become a 'girl'. Not only that, she'd seen me with a boner, if she knew what it was. I was feeling pretty embarrassed. Pretty soon all the bales had been sent to the loft and I headed for the stairs to see if I could help. Karen was taking bales from the pile and stacking them neatly at one end of the loft. I joined in and we quickly finished stacking the hay. It had been hot work and we flopped down on a low stack of bales to cool off. Soon we started to talk. "So, what's your school like?" I asked. "I don't know - it's like any school I guess." "I mean, like how big is it? That sort of stuff." "I guess there's about a few hundred kids." "You're going into grade eleven, right? What's that going to be like?" "Well, I'm going to be taking two sciences, 'cuz I want to be a vet." "Like a veterinarian?" "Yeah, a veterinarian." We went on like that for a while, comparing our schools and our plans for education. We both wanted to do post-secondary. She wanted to go to a nearby college with a strong agricultural program, I was going to go to university for physics. I was at a large city highschool and told her about all the different groups of students there - the rockers, the football players and the cheerleaders, the artsies, the nerds. Her school didn't have quite the same range, there were the town kids, who lived in Smithwater, and the farm kids, but there weren't enough of them to form cliques. She explained that the story was that Smithwater got its name when an early settler named 'Smith' pissed over the side of his wagon. That wasn't the official version, but it was the one that got passed down through the generations. We talked about what we did after school. I would go with my friends to a restaurant and play cards until the dinner crowd started and they'd kick us out. She'd drive around with friends who had cars, or sometimes just hang around the general store where I'd got off the bus. Lately she'd been working on the motorcycle that she was fixing up. We talked for quite a while, gradually feeling pretty comfortable with each other. I guess it was because we were cousins with the family bond, and were also about the same age and going through similar experiences. Eventually it we ran out of talk and Karen said, "Hey, you want to work on the motorcycle?" "Sure," I said, even though I didn't know shit about them. Karen got up and walked over to the hole that was used for dropping hay down to the floor below and suddenly jumped through it. I saw her grab the opposite edge for a moment, then let go. I walked over and looked down. Karen was standing below looking up at me. "Well, come on," she said. "No way," I replied, "I'd bust a leg. I'm taking the stairs." "Come on, you chicken! You saw me do it. I dare you." At this point I didn't have much choice, I'd just been dared to do something she'd already done. So I crouched down next to the hole and surveyed the situation. It was about a ten foot drop to a dirt floor. I figured I could do it. I made the leap, aiming to grab the opposite edge before dropping to the floor. My fingers touched but I didn't get a good grip, so I ended up hitting the floor a little too hard. I fell on my ass but didn't hurt anything other than my pride. I expected Karen to heckle my missed jump but instead she just held out her hand to help me up and said, "See, I knew you could do it if you just tried." She pulled me to my feet and we walked over to the motorcycle. Karen explained that there wasn't much more work to do, just some cleaning and adjustment of the carbeurator. We worked on it for a while, or rather, Karen worked on it while I held tools for her. We finished up with her throwing some pieces into a jug of some sort of solvent. By now it was late and we went back to the house for supper. After cleaning up, we sat down to a nice meal of corned beef, potatoes, and boiled cabbage. Karen mentioned the TV in the basement and that it was down there because Aunt Mary never liked watching it. I had no objections so we decided to see what was on the two channels it could get. Cable and satellite hadn't reached the farm yet. Since I was still feeling pretty grungy, I decided to have a shower and put on my sleep wear, which consisted of sweatshorts and a T-shirt. Karen said she'd do the same and meet me in the basement. Not long after I got down there, Karen showed up wearing a flannel nightgown and a housecoat. Pretty conservative wear, but something her mother would approve of. We checked both the channels and the best thing seemed to be some sort of romantic comedy so we left that on. After we'd got settled in on the couch, and completely bored by the movie, Karen turned to me and said, "So, are there a lot of girls at your school?" "Yeah, I guess so," I said, "about half. Why do you ask?" "No reason, just making talk. Are they pretty?" "Yeah, some of them. Some aren't." "Do you have a girlfriend?" I had never really had a girlfriend but didn't want to say, so I joked, "No, I have several, I'm the Casanova of my school, the chicks just can't keep their hands off me." "Come on, tell me the truth." "Okay. No, I don't have a girlfriend." "How come? You said there were lots of nice looking girls at your school." I decided to tell her the truth and explained that there were lots of nice looking girls, but not that many that I was friends with. I had never really dated any girls and just hadn't been in a boyfriend-girlfriend situation. There were a couple of girls that I liked but I didn't see them outside of school. Then I asked Karen about boyfriends. "I don't really want to talk about it," she said. "Well, you have to; I told you about me." "No, I don't think I should." "I won't tell anyone. When I leave, it goes with me." This satisfied her, and she told me about this guy she used to go driving with after school sometimes. She liked him and started to think about 'going steady', then one day they parked down by the lake and he kissed her. This wasn't a problem until his hands started roving. She didn't tell me exactly what he did, but she didn't like it and he wouldn't stop. That was the end of that. After Karen told me about her misadventure we watched the end of the movie and went to bed. Chapter 3 The next morning I woke with my usual piss hard-on. I wanted to do something about it, but I wasn't comfortable doing it in someone else's house. I got dressed and went down for breakfast. I found out from my aunt that she was going to the church for one of the committees and that Karen was going with her. I would be the only one there for most of the day. I told her that I could find stuff to do and not to worry. I went out for a walk and passed by the chicken coop. Looking at the pile of crap inside I figured I could help spend the day cleaning it out. As I went to the barn for a shovel I saw the car go by and waved to my aunt and cousin. I went to the coop and started shovelling the mixed straw and chicken shit out the back window. Pretty soon I'd kicked up so much dust that I had to get a bandana from my luggage to tie around my mouth and nose. I worked pretty hard so that I had cleaned the place out by a little after noon. I went back to the house and scrounged a lunch out of leftover corned beef and other contents of the fridge. Once I was full I realized that I was pretty much covered in dust from my work. I went upstairs and showered. Going back to Tom's room, I pulled some clothes out of the dresser and put them on. I got a little nosy and started looking in the other drawers. I figured that Tom would put anything interesting under his underwear, so I poked around there. At the very bottom, under a ratty pair of boxers, I found a small box of condoms. 'Oh ho,' I thought, 'Tom's up to tricks, I see.' I put them back and decided to look in the closet. 'Now where would I hide something in here,' I pondered. 'Ah ha, a box artfully buried under some old clothes.' I pulled out the box and put it on the bed. Opening it, I found a pile of Playboy's. Picking one, I lay back on the bed and flipped through it. Careful study of Miss November's turn-ons and turn-offs soon had the expected result - a raging hard-on. This time I was alone in the house and I figured it was time I did something. Since I had all the time I wanted, I settled into a long, slow session of masturbation. Very shortly I noticed that the rhythmic motion started the springs of the old bed squeaking. Since I was alone in the house I wasn't worried, and started working my way through Tom's literary collection. It took me close to half an hour to peruse November, December, and January. I came to a pictorial of a cute girl with short brown hair that reminded me of Karen. I concentrated on completing my exercise and the springs really got squeaking for a couple of minutes. It wasn't long until I blew my load into a handful of tissues. Just as I stopped my motions I thought I heard a creak from the hall. 'Must be imagining it,' I figured. I cleaned up and put away all the treasures that I'd uncovered - careful to arrange things just as they'd been found. As I left the room I noticed that Karen's door was closed. I thought it had been open earlier, maybe I'd heard the wind blowing it closed. I went downstairs and started poking through the old magazines kept in the living room. Some time later I heard a noise and looked up. It was Karen coming down the stairs. "Hi," I said, "I thought you were out." "Yeah, I was, but I got a lift so I came back. Mom's going to be there 'til supper." Wondering what she'd heard, I asked how long she'd been back. "About an hour, I didn't see you so I went upstairs to my room for a while." 'Shit, she'd must've heard everything,' was my first thought. "Um, I was in my room reading," I told her. "Must've been a pretty good book, you were in there a while." 'What's she mean by that?' I wondered. Then I said, "You must have been reading too, you were in your room for a while too." "Yeah, I must have been," she answered. Wanting to change the topic I quickly suggested, "Um, how about we go outside until dinner?" "Sure," she said and we went out. We walked around the farm for a while and out the swamp in the woods. Karen asked if I'd ever walked in a swamp; I told her I hadn't, that it sounded gross. "Oh, don't knock it until you've tried it, come on - I dare you." Another dare. I figured this shouldn't be too bad. We took off our shoes and socks and started walking into the swamp. It wasn't bad, just really gooey. You could feel the ooze sliding between your toes as your feet sank in. As we moved further in, our feet sank more until it became hard to walk. Karen stumbled and grabbed on to my arm. She left her hand there and soon we were walking with her hand on my upper arm and my hand holding her elbow. We started giggling at each rude sound made by squishing mud and at every stumble. We made our way back to the bank where we picked up our shoes and went down to the stream to wash. "See, you tried it - you liked it," Karen said. "You were right," I admitted. Then thinking that I'd like to balance the books, I said, "Maybe I'll find something for you to try someday." "Maybe you will," she replied. ~ Later that evening we were down in the basement TV room, watching the less boring of the two channels. I don't remember what was on - probably some sitcoms. Once again Karen brought up the topic of girlfriends. "Last night you said you'd never had a girlfriend, did you ever kiss a girl?" "Sure, of course I kissed a girl." "No, I mean a real kiss, like necking." "What do you know about necking?" "I'm not completely ignorant you know." "Oh really? When have you been necking?" "I've been out to the lake a few times." "Yeah, so I'll bet nothing happened." "Well, you tell me what you've done, Mr. Experienced." "All right, but you've got to tell after." "Okay, deal." So I told her about going to a party with some friends, but most of the kids were from another school. I was sitting next to this girl on the couch and we were talking when somebody put the lights out. She started talking about how the people must be necking in the dark and I figured out that she wanted to neck too, so I turned to her and we started kissing. "So was it just kissing, or real necking?" "Well, we did like, french kissing after a bit." "You mean with tongues and stuff?" "Yeah, with tongues." "Well, that's real necking I guess. So did you do anything else? Like touching or anything?" "You mean like feeling her? I put my hand on her sweater and she didn't stop me, so I rubbed her there while we kissed." "Is that all you did? Come on, the truth now." "Okay, I put my hand up her sweater and onto her bra. Then I put my hand inside so I could feel her." "No shit? What did she do then?" "You really want to know?" "Yeah." "She put her hand on my pants and started rubbing." "No shit! So what did you do?" "I put my hand up her skirt and felt her panties." "God, you did that in a room full of people?" "Well, it was really dark and a bunch of people were making out too." "What happened then?" "Nothing. It was getting late and some people had to go home before they turned into pumpkins. They had to be back by eleven, would ya believe? That kind of ended the party." Then Karen starting asking about the girl at the party and whether I'd seen her again. "Nah, I didn't really like her, it was just because of the party I was with her." "So, why'd you do it?" "Well I still want to make out and stuff. Just I didn't want to do it with her again. I think she was probably like that with a bunch of guys." Then I asked Karen what she'd done. She seemed reluctant to tell me, but when I said she had to be fair and tell the truth, she did. It came out quickly, like she was trying to say it while she had the courage. "It was that guy in the car, we were kissing and that was okay, and then he put his hand on my chest, kinda like you did to that girl. I pushed it away and we kissed a bit more and he did it again, but it was nice so I let him. He wasn't the first guy to try, but he did it nicer. I even let him open my shirt and put his hand in my bra. He tried to open my pants but I wouldn't let him, so after a bit he stopped and we just kissed again." "Was that it? Did you stop there?" "No, we didn't stop. When we were kissing he took my hand and put it on him." "What do you mean, 'Put it on him'?" "His pants were open and his thing was out. He put my hand on it." "No shit! What did you do?" "Shit, I got out of the car!" "Why'd you do that?" "'Cuz he scared me. I'd never seen one or touched one before. And, I was worried about what would happen if I stayed in the car." "Don't you want ever to be with a guy sometime." "I don't know, maybe. Not with him." "Well, you don't know if you don't try." Karen recognized that I was throwing back her own line and grinned. She said, "Yeah, maybe when I find someone I feel safe with." That was pretty much the end of talk for that night. Chapter 4 Thursday morning Karen went out with the tractor and wagon to get a load of straw from another farm down the road. This was going to have to be stored in the loft too. I went with her and helped to load the wagon. This time we were both on the ground and I couldn't get a view down her shirt, no matter how I tried. I think maybe Karen noticed me trying to look though. We drove back with me sitting on the bales on the wagon. Karen pulled the wagon up next to conveyor, but she ran into the barn before coming back out to start the belt moving. I made sure that I was standing on the wagon looking down at Karen when we started unloading. She bent over to grab a bale but didn't lift it right away. I tried to look down her shirt but I didn't see any white bra this time. She stood up and put the bale on the belt, so I quickly put one on too. Karen bent over again and I shuffled a little closer to the edge to get a better angle. I still couldn't see her bra so I bent over to pick up a bale. When I did that I could see right into her shirt. 'Holy Fuck!' I thought, 'she's not wearing a bra.' I could now see her entire right breast inside her shirt. It wasn't very big, but the nipple was sticking out like a little peak on the hillock. I froze, not noticing that Karen didn't move for a moment either. Then she stood up and put her bale on the conveyor. I moved and put mine on. Karen bent over again and paused. I immediately tried to get another look and did. 'Jeez, it's like she's showing me.' I thought. I developed a raging erection very quickly which was uncomfortable in my pants. I turned away and tried to adjust it discreetly. I turned back and picked up a bale to carry to the conveyor. After loading the bale I walked back to where I could look down Karen's shirt again. As I did I could see she was looking at me. But she wasn't looking at my face, she was looking at my crotch - which was at her eye-level. I looked down and could see that my hard dick was actually making a tent in my pants. When I'd tried to adjust it earlier I'd just made it more obvious. 'Fuck!' I thought, then turned away and said over my shoulder, "I'd better go up and stack some bales." I went into the barn and took a moment to get my hand in my pants to adjust myself properly. I went up to the loft and started stacking the straw against one of the walls. There weren't that many bales and soon Karen came up to help move the last of them. As she helped I tried to look down her shirt again. I didn't get a good look but I did start to get hard again. When we were done I went over to the hay to lie on it while Karen sat on a bale of straw. After a minute or two I heard her ask, "Felix?" "Yeah," I said. "Do guys always want girls with big tits?" "Jeez, what a question - why do you want to know?" "Well look at me, it's not like I have a lot up front you know." "Karen, some guys like big tits, some guys want 'em really huge; but I think those look deformed. Me, I think small tits can look really sexy, depends on the girl." "I had a feeling you thought that way, it kind of showed," she said with a smile in her voice. "Aw shit, I'm sorry about that, I was hoping you wouldn't notice." "It was kind of hard to miss, you know, almost in my face," she teased. "Fuck, stop - you're embarrassing me. I mean, it's bad enough that happened in front of you, but you're my cousin too." "Come on, it really is okay you know. It's not the first time it happened." "Waddaya mean? When did it happen before?" "Okay, there was this time when I was baby-sitting a couple of kids down the road. The boy was about twelve and the girl was about six. Anyway, I was giving the girl a bath and I was kneeling over the tub washing her. He was hanging around behind me and I think he saw under my skirt. So, like, his pajamas had this little tent in them. I thought it was kind of cute, but he ran off to his room and wouldn't come out." "Yeah, well, let's talk about something else, okay?" Karen agreed and suggested we work on her motorcycle. I thought it was a good idea, but she should go first and I'd be down in a minute. Karen agreed but I could see a smirk on her face just before she jumped down. I waited until my boner was completely gone, then followed her. She was over at the bike bolting the carb back on. I handed her tools for about half an hour while she sat on the floor and did mechanical things. I wasn't a complete doofus about machines, I just didn't know much about internal combustion engines. I just finished putting away a wrench when Karen stood up and said, "That's it, we're done." "You mean, like for the day?" "Nah, done-finished. The bike's ready for testing." "No shit? Okay, whadda we do?" "We take it outside and start it." So we wheeled the bike outside and Karen tried to kick start the bike. The first couple of times it just coughed back at her and didn't catch. Then she fiddled with something on the side with a screwdriver and tried again. This time it did start and made a sound like an oversized chainsaw. Karen played with the throttle and did some more adjusting with the screwdriver until she seemed satisfied. She handed the screwdriver to me and hopped onto the bike. She revved the engine a couple more times, then took off for a quick trip up the road and back. When she got back she had a grin on her face like she'd just won the lottery and a backstage pass to Rod Stewart. (I hated Rod Stewart even then - but she was a fan.) She yelled at me over the sound of the bike, "Come on, you've got to try it, it's a blast." "No way, it's dangerous - and we don't even have helmets," I yelled back. "You chicken-shit, you only live once! I dare you!" she taunted. I couldn't let her get away with that, so I climbed on behind her. The bike wasn't really meant for two, so I was squeezed in pretty tight behind her. I wasn't sure where to put my hands but Karen reached back with her left hand and pulled my arm around her waist. So I ended up with one arm almost all the way around her narrow waist and the other holding her hip. "Hang on," she yelled over her shoulder and we took off down the road. We end up going about a mile right to the paved road. We had to turn back because neither the bike or Karen was licenced. It was pretty cozy snuggled up to Karen like that and every little bump made my crotch rub against her butt. I was hoping she wouldn't notice that there was a newly swollen appendage squished between us. When we got back I quickly got off the bike and walked away, acting like my legs were sore from the ride until the swelling in my pants had returned to normal. Karen put the motorcycle back into the barn and we went back to the house. Since we were both badly in need of showers we took turns in the bathroom after supper. After cleaning up we met down in the basement TV room. I was wearing my usual sweatshorts and T-shirt; Karen was bundled up in her thick housecoat. We checked the TV and couldn't find anything of interest so Karen suggested we play cards. After debating the relative merits of 'Go Fish!' versus 'Crazy Eights' we settled on 'Euchre' as a game with some challenge. Karen took a double-deck of bridge cards down from a shelf and prepared one of the packs. I grabbed an old kitchen chair that was in the corner to use as a table. Karen delt the cards onto the chair and we made small-talk as we played. Once again, Karen brought up the topic of girls in my school and why I didn't have a girlfriend. She seemed obsessed by the topic. "There must be some girls that you like. I'll bet you have some really beautiful ones in your class. How about the cheerleaders?" "Yeah, there are some of the really fancy ones, you know - the type that get picked as 'Most Likely to Date the Quarterback' or whatever. They're not my type though." "Okay, so what is your type? Is there anybody?" "Well, there's one girl in my math class that I think is pretty cute. But she's really shy and she always goes right home after school. She's greek and I don't think her parents speak English very well. They make her go home right away." "So what's she look like?" "She's cute like I said. She's not very tall and she's slim, with really wavy long hair." "Does she have a nice figure? Like big boobs and all?" "Come on, I told you already - that's not important. She does have a really nice butt though." As we were playing Karen's robe had gradually opened up. She had one knee up on the couch so that she could turn towards me. Every time she bent over to play a card it seemed that her robe loosened. I eventually noticed that her knee was bare and that whatever she was wearing under the robe was not the conservative nightgown of the other evening. The robe opened to the point where I could see bare chest almost to the level of her tits. In fact, one time when she bent over to put down a card the robe drooped enough that I got a brief glimpse of a nipple. I thought I saw a bit of fabric inside the robe but I wasn't sure. I'm not sure why, but I said to Karen, "You know, it almost looks like you didn't put on anything under your robe." Karen looked down but didn't seem surprised at how exposed she was. She said, "Sure I did, I guess it's just not showing." Then she stood up and opened her robe to show me what looked like an oversized basketball singlet. "See, I'm covered," she said. I certainly did see -- and she wasn't very covered. It was red with white trim (her school colours?) and must have been intended for a six-foot-plus player. The front was just high enough to cover her tits but their location was clearly marked by the impressions of her nipples in the thin material. The armholes dropped almost to her waist on the sides. The length of the shirt was enough to reach to the middle of her thighs, and the whole look was incredibly sexy. She held her robe open long enough for me to get a full impression, then held it closed as she sat down again. I noticed that she didn't tie the sash this time. I let my heart slow a little, then said, "Is that what you normally wear to bed?" "No, this is the first time actually. I bought it to wear over my clothes for the basketball playoffs, but it's just been in my closet since." "Oh, well -- it looks, um, comfortable." We started to play again, but now her robe was fully open. I was getting peeks constantly and her bare thighs were making me wonder if she was wearing panties. I had a raging hard-on that I was fighting to conceal by leaning forward all the time. At first Karen didn't appear to notice either my position or that I was distracted, but then she commented, "You seem a little uncomfortable Felix, is something bothering you?" "No, I'm okay, maybe my back is bugging me from the work today," I replied. She looked at me with a bit of a smile, then said, "You do look a little stiff." 'Fuck,' I thought, 'what does she mean by that?' "I think I'll be okay with a little sleep." "Is that all it's going to take? Won't it need a little rubbing?" "Hunh?" was my answer to that. Then she looked at me and said softly, "You're hard -- aren't you? I made you hard, didn't I? Just like when we were loading the hay. Come on, please tell me the truth. I did it, didn't I?" "You were trying to do that?" "Yeah, it happened before and I wanted to see if I could do it again." "Oh great, now I look like a pervert, getting turned-on by my cousin." "I'm sorry, it isn't your fault -- I did that to you. I just wanted to see if I could get a guy interested." "Of course you can. You're really pretty and sexy. I mean, I wish I had a girlfriend as sexy as you." "You do? Really?" "Yeah, now can we watch TV or something." "Sure." Karen turned on the TV and fastened her robe. I sat with my feet on the couch and my knees up to hide my erection. I was hoping it would go down, but I couldn't get the image of Karen's small tits and smooth thighs out of my head. Karen sat at the other end of the couch with her feet coiled beside her. I could tell that she was occasionally stealing a glance over at me and seemed to be thinking about something. She must have come to a decision because she turned to look at me and said, "Felix?" "Yeah?" "You're still, um, excited?" "Why?" "Well, um, I told you about the time the guy made me touch his, um, thing?" "Yeah, what about it?" "Well, I never got to see one." "So, what's that got to do with me?" I said, even though I had a pretty good idea. "Well, like, d'ya think maybe you could let me see?" "No way, we're cousins." "That's what makes it okay, it's safe, it's like just in the family." I was sitting there with a boner that seemed like steel and the girl who gave it to me was asking to see it. I wanted to find a reason to let her. "Come, I dare you," she said. That was all I needed. I put my feet down on to the floor letting my erection make a tent out of my shorts. I could hear a pause in Karen's breathing as I undid the drawstring in my shorts. Looking down at myself as I did it, I lifted the front of my shorts over my hard dick; it stuck up like a flagpole. "Oh god," I heard Karen whisper. Just then I heard my aunt call down the stairs, "I'm going to bed now, don't you two stay up too late." I jerk my shorts back up almost doing myself damage in the process. I muttered "Fuck!" just as I heard Karen say the same thing. I looked over at her as she stared back at me wide-eyed. "I guess we better go upstairs," I said to her. This wouldn't be a problem now as my once rigid organ had deflated almost instantly. "Yeah, no kidding!" she answered very seriously. I followed Karen up the two flights of stairs, calling out "Good night" to my aunt's bedroom door as we passed. When we got to the hallway between our bedrooms Karen turned to me and whispered "Thanks," then gave me a quick peck on the lips before heading to her room. I lay in bed unable to sleep, with thoughts of what had happened going back and forth in my head. Soon my erection returned and I figured that I might as well do something with it. I wasn't going to need a magazine for inspiration this time. I started stroking myself as I lay on the bed, then remembered the noisy springs. I got off the bed and lay on the floor to continue. With visions of Karen in her basketball shirt running through my mind, I soon reached climax but didn't have any tissues handy. I got up and headed for the bathroom to clean up. As I tiptoed through the hallway I could hear a muffled squeeking sound coming from Karen's room. Chapter 5 When I got dressed in the morning I was wondering what kind of greeting I was going to get from Karen. I went down to the kitchen and as I entered I saw that Aunt Mary was doing something at the stove and had her back to me. I looked at Karen who was sitting at the table. She gave me an ear-to-ear smile as I came in. Aunt Mary turned around and Karen's grin disappeared to a demure 'Good morning.' I sat down as I returned the greeting. As we ate, Aunt Mary detailed the day's plans. She was going to be spending the day running a series of errands for her church. Most of them seemed to involve checking on house-bound seniors and making deliveries; Karen would be going with her to help. I offered to join them but Aunt Mary insisted that it would be quite boring and I should use my time for myself. Since Karen was standing behind Aunt Mary nodding her head in emphatic agreement, I didn't push it and said that I could find something to do. Aunt Mary then said that since it was the beginning of the weekend, perhaps Karen and I should find something to do that evening - Karen suggested a movie. That sounded fine to me so I agreed. After breakfast Aunt Mary and Karen drove off in the Buick and I was left to my own devises. I spent the morning walking around the farm and exploring the woods. Not being much of an outdoorsman - it was fun to spot some frogs in the swamp and to try climbing some of the trees. As noon approached the day started to become hot and I headed back to the house for lunch. I read my novel for most of the afternoon sitting in the shade with some lemonade to sip on. After a couple of hours I decided on a change of material and went up to my room to poke through Tom's Playboy magazines. This got the inevitable rise out of me which I took care of in a leisurely wanking session. Aunt Mary and Karen returned in the late afternoon. Karen had picked up a newspaper and we sat down in the kitchen to go through the movie listings. It came down to a choice between a long drive to the city or going to the drive-in for a comedy/action double-feature. I'd never been to a drive-in so I voted for that. Since the movie couldn't start until late we chose to pick up some burgers in town for supper. About seven o'clock Karen came down wearing a cardigan and a knee-length skirt. We said goodbye to Aunt Mary and took off in the Buick with Karen driving. We got food and sat in the park in the middle of town to eat it. Afterwards Karen took me for a walk down the main street and pointed out all the areas of interest, mostly old buildings. As the sun set we went back to the car and drove to the drive-in. We picked a spot somewhere in the middle and grabbed some drinks from the snackbar. Once we were back in the car and settling in to wait for the feature Karen mentioned that she didn't like sitting behind the steering wheel and did I mind if she slid over a bit. Of course I didn't - so Karen moved to the middle of the bench seat. The movie began to roll, I have no idea which one it was - just some highschool-hijinks thing. Karen put her feet on over to the driver's side of the transmission hump and leaned back against my shoulder. This wasn't really comfortable so I put my arm across the back of the seat and let her lean against my side. We watched the movie and sipped our drinks, laughing at the sophomoric humour. Maybe the night was warmer than we expected, or maybe it was because we were sitting close together, but Karen said she was getting too hot. She sat up and undid her cardigan, then took it off and tossed it beside her. I watched as she did this and saw that she was wearing a sheer blouse underneath. It was hard to tell in the dark car but I thought I could see the shadow of bare nipples under the blouse. Karen leaned back against me but this time reached up and grabbed my hand to pull it around her shoulder. We stayed like that for only a few minutes when Karen started squirming as if she wasn't quite happy with our position. She tucked her shoulder under my arm and pulled my hand onto the front of her blouse. I realized that my hand was resting right on her breast and from the feel of her hardening nipple, there wasn't much covering it. Karen let out a little 'Mmmm' sound and pressed lightly on my hand. Half of my mind was thinking 'She's my cousin, we shouldn't be doing this'; the other half (located somewhat lower down) was thinking 'Wow, a handful of tit!' I started to caress very gently, feeling her nipple sliding under my palm. Karen settled a little further into my side and let her arm fall on to my thigh. As I felt up her tit, Karen's hand would slide up and down my leg until her elbow bumped into the bulge formed by my erect dick. As soon as this happened her arm stopped moving. Soon after that her elbow began sliding up and down the ridge in my pants. By now I had completely lost interest in the movie as I was thinking only of the sensations in my hand and crotch. My swollen organ was becoming quite uncomfortable; I tried to discreetly adjust it but as I began to slip my free hand into my jeans Karen felt the movement and turned her head to look at what I was doing. "Take it out," she whispered hoarsely. "What?" I said, rather obtusely. Karen sat up and turned so that she was facing me. "I didn't get a good look last night. Can I see it again, please!" I didn't say anything, I just slid down a bit in the seat so I could undo my jeans and lower the zipper. As I tried to work my erection out of my briefs Karen looked on impatiently. I realized I didn't have enough room so I lifted my ass off the seat and slid my jeans and briefs down to my thighs. When I did this my erection stood up proudly. I looked at Karen, who was staring open mouthed as my cock waved slightly with my pulse. I could see her hand, which was resting on the seat, lifting up towards me, then moving back to the seat. It looked like she wanted to touch, but was unsure. "Go ahead, touch it," I said, "It's okay." "Really, are you sure?" she asked. "Oh yeah, I'm sure," I said. She reached out her hand and touched the tip. My cock jerked away and then back. Karen pulled her hand away quickly. "It's okay, it just does that, don't worry," I said as I took her wrist and gently pulled her hand back. I made her apply a little more pressure and guided her hand so that her finger tips began to slide up and down the shaft. As she felt more confident I let go and put my hands down beside me. I closed my eyes and lay there, revelling in the feeling of having someone else playing with my organ for the first time. As she became accustomed to touching male equipment, Karen added some variations. She grasped my dick and began to milk in a motion that must be familiar to all farm-raised women. I put my arm up and pulled her down so that her head rested on my chest. This let her keep an eye on what she was doing but also let me return to playing with her breasts. I began to undo the buttons on blouse and she looked up at me. As I slid my hand onto a bare tit for the first time our lips came together and we began kissing. Obviously neither of us was completely inexperienced or very expert in kissing. We fumbled around with deep tongue kissing for a bit but settled down to some gentle nibbling and pecking eventually. As the kissing and Karen's stroking drew me towards climax we separated so that I could lie back and enjoy the moment. A bead of lubrication formed on the tip of my erection and Karen first ran her thumb through it, then spread it around the head. I could see her staring at her own actions and the tip of her tongue emerging to delicately wet her lips. "Taste it," I said to her. "Taste it - I dare you." Karen paused for a moment and then bent her head down to just touch her tongue to the lubrication. Her tongue retracted as she sampled the taste. Again her tongue came out to lick lightly across the head. She treated my cock like it was an ice-cream cone, holding it in her hand and licking all around the head. I noticed that her position on the car seat had forced her skirt up her legs and that they were exposed almost to her hips. I rolled a little towards her, not enough to dsturb her head in my lap, and reached over to put my hand on her leg. I slid my hand upwards, taking her skirt with it, until I exposed the side of her panties. Karen was wearing lacy white bikini panties, the type a girl might wear if she thought they might be seen. I ran my hand across her tummy, pushing the skirt up to her waist so that everything below was uncovered. I could see the darkness of her pubic hair through the fine material. As I moved my hand down onto the mound her legs parted to give me access to the area in between. As I slid my fingers over the smooth panel covering her pussy I could feel heat and dampness coming through it. I rubbed a finger up and down the groove that had formed in the panties, forcing a moan from from Karen and her grip tightened on my cock. I moved my hand back to her leg and then under the elastic of her panty-crotch where I felt fine hairs on swollen lips. I sought her groove once again, this time without the intervening panties. As I moved my fingers into that dripping slit I touched a slippery pea. Massaging it gently brought another moan from Karen and then I felt her mouth engulf the swollen head of my dick. I won't tell you that it was the best blowjob that I've ever had, but it was certainly the most memorable. Karen was totally inexperienced and didn't anything except take the head in her mouth and start sucking. Not that I was complaining, it was the best feeling I'd ever had in my life - to that point. I rubbed her clit and stuck a finger into her pussy, pushing it in and out; Karen continued to suck while squeezing with her hand. It didn't take very long before I realized that I was going to cum. Age-old instincts had my hips rocking as they tried to thrust my cock into the available orifice. "Karen, I'm, I'm, I'm, oh shit!" was about all I managed to say before I started spasming into her mouth. She seemed to know what I was trying to say and wasn't completely surprised. She swallowed everything and continued to suck on my cock as it wilted, reluctant to give it up. Eventually she lifted her head and rested it on my shoulder, looking at me. I lowered my head and we kissed. As our tongues wrestled her hips began to move. I had stopped playing with her pussy during my orgasm but now I returned to it. I thrust my finger in and out in time with the movement of her hips, rubbing her clit with my thumb. I kissed my way down her neck and onto one of her rigid nipples. Her hips began to move frantically, driving my finger harder and harder into her, until her back arched and she let out an animal-like groan in orgasm. As Karen came down from her climax she took my hand away from her pussy and snuggled up against me. We cuddled for a few minutes watching the movie, which was now into the second feature. I realized that we were sitting there with my jeans open and her entire chest exposed. Not that I minded looking at Karen's breasts, but we did feel a little exposed and maybe a bit chilly. I did up my pants while Karen buttoned her blouse and arranged her skirt. We watched the rest of the movie without doing much, except for my wayward hand which couldn't stay away from her tits. When the movie was done we drove back to the house. Aunt Mary had gone to sleep so we tiptoed upstairs and said good-night with just a quick kiss. I think we were both in shock from the evening's events.

"What is that?" Melanie said, emphasizing every word. "A dunk tank, duh." Isabelle responded. "So, what's the deal with that then?" Melanie asked. "I saw one down in Miami when my family went there for the holidays. A girl gets naked and gets up on that ledge above the water. Then they put boots with weights in them on her feet. Then she just sits there while people buy balls and try to hit that small thingamajiggy. For every ball that doesn't hit she gets money, but if they do hit then down she goes and puts on a drowning performance for the crowd." Isabelle explained. Like many teens tend to do, the two best friends spent most of their weekends at the mall. They knew every store and every restaurant in the food court. The dunk tank however was new. It was situated right in the plaza that was the center of the mall. Gone was the big fountain. It was still early and the mall hadn't filled up with the afternoon shoppers yet, but the dunk tank had already drawn a crowd. Up on the platform was a woman, early to mid twenties. She had long, flowing blonde hair, long legs and overall model good looks. She had a bright smile on her face as she adressed the crowd. "Let's watch, I wanna see some girl drown again." Isabelle said with an evil grin and parked herself down on a bench. "You've seen girls in a thing like that?" Melanie asked in wide eyed excitement. "Of course! How else do you think I know how that thing works." Isabelle rolled her eyes. Melanie was such a ditz. There was one fact however that Isabelle held back. It was the fact that she had not only seen the dunk tank in action, but that she had actually sat on it and risked her life. Isabelle might be a cheerleader, but she was a smart cheerleader and she knew that letting a thing like that get out could be a dangerous thing. No girl who planned on having a long life wanted a reputation like that. The woman up on the platform was speaking into a microphone, trying to get someone to go up. "So, who is going to be the first person to try our brand new dunk tank? Earn your shopping money in a fun and easy way. You'll sit as long as you want and you'll get all the money people pay to throw balls. And if you go down you'll put on the performance of your life." "I wonder who's going to go first?" Melanie asked to no one in particular. The truth was that Melanie herself was a bit worried. She was worried that she'd speak up and volunteer before she could stop herself. She was that kind of person who just threw herself into things she shouldn't be doing. Thus far she had never thrown herself into a life-threatening situation, but that was only really because she hadn't had the opportunity. Since two months she was eligible to be meat and this was her first really good opportunity to risk her life. She knew that she would look great up on that platform. As a cheerleader she was in really good shape, a perfectly toned petite body that she had spent so much time perfecting. As she usually did when she was excited she couldn't help but twirl her dyed blond hair. Unfortunately Isabelle knew exactly what the twirling meant. "OMG, Mel. You're turned on!" Isabelle exclamied. "Hush!" Melanie demanded. "You didn't deny it." Isabelle smirked. Melanie knew that there really was no point in denying it. Isabelle knew her far too well. They had been friends since forever after all. Isabelle was the person that completed Melanie in the most dangerous way. While Melanie threw herself into things, Isabelle was the one who goaded her on and dared her to do it. Mel knew that in that way Isabelle was a very dangerous friend to have, but more importantly that meant Isabelle was a fun a friend to have around. Melanie knew exactly what was coming next. Isabelle leaned in and whispered in Melanie's ear. "You want to go up there don't you? You're finally allowed to take part in snuff games and you're just itching to have a go." "No." Melanie responded. Of course, she knew perfectly well that a no wasn't going to fool Isabelle. Still, she knew that she was going to have to put up resistance or she would end up volunteering. "You're going to love sitting up there, risking your life. I know it and you know it. Imagine it. Everyone watching you beautiful naked body up there, hoping to see you drown. You'll be so turned on and I'll be here waiting for you if you come down." Melanie could feel Isabelle's hot breath on her ear. Of course she had expected this as well. Seductive Isabelle. Memories of last night flooding back to Melanie. The two of them had spent the last night together, down in Isabelle's family's basement. They had, as they often did, played slave and Mistress. As always Melanie was the slave and she had been given quite the treatment from her friend. Isabelle sure looked great in her mistress outfit. Leather boots ( leather from girl skin, of course), a strap-on and a corset lifting Isabelle's lovely C-cup breasts. All in black of course. On the other hand Isabelle looked great without the Mistress outfit as well. Long brown, hair, lust-filled brown eyes and the cutest little dimples made Isabelle hard to resist in any outfit. "I don't want to risk my life." Melanie croaked. "But you do, my little slave." Isabelle whispered. Fortunately for Melanie they were interrupted. It was the third part in the trio of best friends, Emmy. Emmy was a thin, tall girl with pitch black, shoulder length hair. She was the private, silent one in the of the group. The three of them had been friends since the first day of school, but Emmy often kept to herself and only rarely told them what she had been up to. "You're trying to get her up on the tank I take it." Emmy said. "Well, she wants it." Isabelle explained. Emmy knew her friends well enough to know that Isabelle was probably right. Still, it wouldn't hurt finding out for sure. Emmy sat down next to Melanie and matter of factly stuck her hand up Melanie's mini skirt. "Eeeep!" Melanie squaked. "Yep, she's wet alright." Emmy said as she licked her finger clean. "Fine! I'm a bit turned on, so sue me!" Melanie admitted in frustration. Luckily for Melanie the focus had shifted. The reason was that a woman was making her way through the crowd. She had red, curly hair, freckles and looked to be in her early thirties. She looked very confident about the whole thing. As she walked she undressed herself, leaving a trail of clothing behind. There was a man standing by a computer next to the platform. He quickly scanned her meat tag hanging from her pussy lips and pointed her up the stairs. "Looks like we have our very first volunteer. What's your name, honey?" the blonde on the platform asked. "My name is Laura." "So tell me Laura, have you been on a thing like this before?" "I haven't actually, but I've been wanting to try it for some time now. I've done a lot of snuff games before, but never one where I could drown." Laura explained excitedly. Laura was oozing enthusiasm. It looked like she couldn't wait to get on the machine. "So, why did you decide to volunteer?" "Why wouldn't I? I just love to gamble with my life. Let's get this started." This was met with a cheer from the crowd. Laura sat down on a chair up on a ledge above the water. The attendent fitted a pair of clumsy looking boots on Laura's feet. "I think you all know how this works, but I'll take it anyway. These boots are really heavy so if you hit the target she will fall down into the water and won't be able to get up. She'll drown for your enjoyment right here in this transparent tank. So come on up and buy a ball if you want a chance to snuff this beauty." As the attendant spoke, Laura was busy gently fingering herself. As expected there was a rush to buy balls and a queue quickly formed. "So, Laura? How long do you think you'll risk sitting up here?" the anttendant asked. "We'll see about that. But, you know I have no better place to be so I'll be happy to stay for a while. Wouldn't be fair if I only gave one person the chance to snuff me." This too was met with a cheer from the crowd. The three friends on the bench also cheered of course. "She looks so hot up there." Melanie said dreamily. By now she had given up all pretense. She was turned on by this and her friends knew it. No point in denying it. Isabelle and Emmy simply shared a knowing look. "We've got our first person to throw a ball here." the attendant needlessly explained. The attention turned to the man who now had Laura's fate in his hands. ** It was a middle aged man and he took his time to aim. It was in vain however and he missed, missed quite badly actually. Laura up on the ledge had increased the pace in her fingering as he prepared to throw and it looked like she had a small orgasm in the moment the ball left his hand. "So, that was one ball. Do you want to go on?" the attendant asked. "Of course. We're just getting started." Laura confidently responded. It went on like this for a while. Seven more men and two women took their chance, but they all missed. One of the men glanced the target with his ball, but it wasn't the full on hit that was needed for the ledge to drop. With ten balls thrown Laura decided she had enough for now and was released. She had been a good sport for sitting there as long as she did and she was politely appluaded as she descended the stairs, but still people were disappointed. "Now you've got your chance. We all know you're going to do it. You might as well do it now." Isabelle whispered in Melanie's ear. Emmy, just as eager to see Melanie on the tank as Isabelle, took a different approach. As she had done before she inserted her finger into Melanie's wet pussy, easily accessible under a very short skirt. Fortunately no one was looking at them, but Melanie figured that it was only a matter of time before they would draw a crowd. She really should have removed Emmy's fingered, but she couldn't do it. It just felt too good. "Fine! I'll sit up there for one ball. One ball only." Melanie said. "Yay!" Isabelle happily exclaimed. Melanie made her way through the crowd, slowly getting the attention of everyone gathered. She put a finger to the pulse point on her neck and could feel her own rapid heartbeat. Sure she had been pressured into doing this, but the truth was that she was incredibly excited. For the first time in her young life she was going to take part in a game where she risked her life. All the people around her would just love to see someone hit the target and send her plummeting down into the water. They wanted to see her drown and her body no doubt carried off to the nearest restaurant to become meat. That's what they wanted and that was also what one little voice inside Melanie's head wanted. She was still young and hadn't really experienced much yet, but that didn't change the fact that she was willing to risk it all for the excitment of being on the ledge. "Put on a good show for the crowd, now." Isabelle ordered. Melanie happily obliged, putting on a few sexy moves as she stripped out of her clothes. Since Melanie hadn't been wearing that much in the way of clothing, a mini skirt and a tube top, it was quickly done. The man by the computer did a quick scan of the meat tag hanging between Melanie's legs. She saw her name pop up on the screen. All the relevant info, including the meat grade. Melanie was mighty proud of her grade A. Isabelle gave Mel a quick pat on the ass the blonde made her way up the stairs. "So, who do we have here?" the attendant asked. "My name is Melanie Carter and I go to Orchard High." By now, most of the nervousness had dissipated for Melanie. She held her hands behind her back, causing her perky tits to proudly stand out. "So, have you done anything like this before?" "No, I've never been in a snuff game before, but I can't wait to try it. I'm so excited." "No point in waiting is there? Let's get you ready." "Yes. Let's!" Melanie walked over to the chair and sat down. It was a comfortable chair, no doubt to make the girl in question stay on the ledge for a long time. Melanie put her feet in the boots and the attendant made sure that the boots were firmly strapped on. Melanie could lift her feet, but just barely. These boots would no doubt keep her under water and a shudder of excitment went through her body as she pondered that fact. She could actually drown. Just like the redhead Laura Melanie decided to pleasure herself as she sat on the tank. "Looks like we have someone ready to throw the ball." the attendant announced. Melanie looked down and saw the person with a ball in his hand. He was young and good looking. "I'll give you a blowjob if you miss!" Melanie blurted out before she had a chance to think about it. She was met with a good hearted laugh from the audience. "Well, that's a lovely consolation prize, but I still think I'll try to hit. No offense." the man responded. "Ohh, none taken. Can't blame a guy for wanting to see a hot little thing like me drown." "Exactly!" the man said and before Melanie had the chance to respond he threw the ball. It was a good effort, the ball going just inches above the target. Melanie got a real scare, that was immediately followed by a small orgasm. "Ohhh, fuck." Melanie moaned. "So, Melanie how about another attempt?" the attendent asked. "Sorry, but I decided on just one go." A sigh of disappointment went through the audience. Melanie didn't want to leave things on a bad note so she went on. "I will come back some other time though, this was fun!" This seemed to cheer the audience up. Melanie got out of the boots and walked down the stairs to be greeted by her friends who both gave her a hug. "You looked great up there honey. I can't wait to see you do it again!" Isabelle said. "Ohh, you will. You can't believe how exciting it was!" Melanie gushed. The man by the computer handed Melanie her earnings. It was enough to buy a really nice dress and Melanie couldn't wait to spend it. "I believe we had deal." It was of course the man who had thrown the ball who spoke. "Of course. Let's just go somewhere less crowded." Melanie said with a smile as she picked up her clothes from the floor. Less crodwed as it turned out was relative. Only a few yards away the man pulled out his cock from his pants. Playing snuff games might have been a new thing for Melanie, but sucking cock definitely wasn't. She immediately got down on her knees and proceeded to take the man's cock down to the root. Actually, taking a cock that deep wasn't something Melanie had learned from any guy. It had been Isabelle who had taught her, using a strap-on. Isabelle had given Mel a severe caning every time she failed at taking the strap-on deep and Mel had learned her lesson. "You're good. I'm almost happy I missed. Almost." he said. Melanie would have smiled if it wasn't for the cock down her throat. She figured that was as good a compliment as she could get from a guy who had just missed out on snuffing her. Melanie used her skill and experience as she worked his cock with great great energy. It didn't take very long before she could feel a familiar twitching in his cock and soon after he came. Melanie as the dutiful cocksucker she was swallowed every drop of cum with a smile. "I'm Steve, by the way." he said as he held a hand out to help her up. "Nice to meet you Steve." As this had transpired two more girls had come and gone on the platform, both of them surviving. "That's 17 balls thrown and no hit." Emmy remarked. She showed Isabelle, Melanie and a Steven a paper where she had it all written down. "Yeah, it is pretty hard to hit the target. They've designed it like that so that more girls will risk their lives." Isabelle said. "That's a bummer. I wan't to see it work." Melanie pouted. "Patience, it will happen soon enough. You have to remember one thing here. Now that we have a thing like that here in town a lot of people will want to be able to throw a ball with accuracy. A lot of people will go home and train so that they will be experts at this. The people down in Miami were a lot better at this, because they've had the dunk tank for a long time." Isabelle explained. "That's true. I know I will work on my aim." Steve confirmed. "Guess I better be quick to get up there again, then. If I want to survive it." Melanie giggled. "What's stopping you?" Isabelle asked. "Really? You're going to try to get me to go up there again? Right now?" "I don't see why not? You liked it the first time." "You're soo bad. Trying to get your friend snuffed like that." Emmy said with a smirk. "If you don't want to see Mel up there, then why don't you step in and do it instead?" "I didn't say I didn't want to see her up there again. I only said you were bad." "I'll do it, but not today. I've had enough fun for one day." Melanie said, putting an end to speculation. For once Melanie managed to stand up for herself. It had been a huge turn on to be up there, but for now she just wanted to enjoy the afterglow. Isabelle might like to goad Mel on, but she also knew when to quit. "Ok, how about we all just wait here until we see the first girl drown and then we go home and reward you for being so brave." Isabelle suggested. "Ohh, I like that. Just as long as I get to spend my newly earned money before we go home." Melanie said. Just then Melanie got an unfamiliar arm over her shoulders. As it quickly turned out however the arm actually wasn't that unfamiliar. It belonged to Gina, Melanie's lab partner in chemistry. Gina was a freckled redhead and known around school for her promise to get herself snuffed before graduation. "You were awesome up there, baby. I just wish I had done it first. Promised a blowjob for missing. On the other hand though....I don't really want them to miss." "Errr...thanks I guess." "Anyways, I can't be standing around here when there's a perfectly good dunk tank nearby. See you later....or maybe not." Gina said with a giggle. With that she set off towards the man by the computer. "So, is anyone going bet against me that she'll get herself snuffed in that thing?" Isabelle asked. ** There were of course no takers. "Anyway, it was nice meeting you girls, but I'm off to work on my aim." Steve said and left. Now reduced back to the original trio the girls made their way back to the bench where they had started. Gina was already up on the platform being strapped into the boots by the attendant. "Come on guys and gals. I'm not going anywhere. Line up to take your shot to drown this young thing." Gina proudly exclaimed from the ledge. Gina was bubbling with excitement. She had made that promise of getting herself snuffed before graduation on the very first day of High School. Her class had been doing a simple introduction excersice where everyone was supposed to say their name and and something interesting about themselves. It had been a whim really to say something like that, Gina just couldn't think about anything particularly interesting about herself. At the time graduation had felt so far off and she thought for sure it would soon be forgotten. However, the rumour quickly spread and the next day she was known around school as the girl who would never graduate. At first she had been horrified and scared about the whole thing. She seriously considered switching schools and try to forget all about it, but soon enough she started to like it. She became immensly popular, got invited to all the parties and even the teachers went easy on her. Not to mention that the more she thought about it, the more turned on she got. By now she had completely accepted her self-imposed fate and was actively looking forward to it. She had only been meat-eligible for a few months, but she had already taken part in sveral snuff games around town and wasn't going to let this one pass her by. "Hello Mr. T. I wish you good luck." Gina graciously greeted the first person to have a throw. That person was Greg Towers, Gina's history teacher. As late as last he week he had given Gina a spanking for failing her history test, but Gina held no grudge against him. How could she? She hadn't studied at all and she had quite enjoyed it. Mr. Towers stepped up and threw the ball, but missed. It hadn't been that far off, but it was a miss. "Sorry about that, I guess I'll just have to watch and hope that someone else hits. I do promise to get some of your lovely meat though." Mr. Towers said. "Thanks, Mr. T. Try some thigh." Gina giggled. Gina got the question if you wanted to remain in the chair and realized that in her excitement she hadn't actually thought about or said anything about it. "Well, Ms. Attendant...what's your name btw?" "My name is Callie Roberts." "Well, Ms. Roberts I can't very well let my big sis beat me out on this. She sat here for ten balls so I guess I'll do eleven." "So, that redhead Laura who sat here first was your sister?" "Yep, she's right there and I bet you that if I do eleven she'll do twelve, won't you sis?" Gina asked her sister who stood in the crowd. All the eyes in the room turned towards Laura. "Are you trying to get me snuffed little brat?" Laura asked in mock outrage. "Well, you started it when you sat here for ten balls.." "Fine, if my bratty little sister survives, which I doubt ny the way, I will come back and sit for twelve balls." Laura promised and was met by cheers from the audience and a kiss on the cheek from a woman who was standing next to her. "Anyway, back to me. Let's see if anyone has the aim to snuff the much sexier younger sister." Gina said and stretched her tongue out in the direction of her older sister. The next person to step up for a throw was an older man. Gina didn't know him, but she wished him well anyway. He missed though and quite badly. Still, Gina seemed to enjoy herself up on the ledge. She constantly had two fingers going in and out of her sloppy wet pussy. "Nine more chances to snuff this naughty little schoolgirl." Gina teased. Then she saw something that actually made her have an orgasm. The person who next stepped up to throw was an hispanic man in his mid thirties, but it wasn't just any man. His name was Juan Perez and he was the star pitcher for the local minor league baseball team the Argonauts. Gina was by no means a baseball fan, but he was somewhat of a local celebrity so she easily recognised him. He was in no hurry, weighing the ball in his hand and throwing it up in the air to get a feel for it. "Ohh, fuck, fuck, fuck!" Gina moaned. She was working her pussy hard and fast now because she had a feeling that she didn't have long to live. Getting snuffed by a local celebrity would be no bad way to go out Gina quickly decided. "Do you thik that you're going to hit Mr. Perez?" Gina asked. "I think so senorita. Do you have any last words?" Juan politely asked her. "Err....Enjoy my drowning I guess!" Gina said and managed a smile. Juan threw the ball up into the air one more time before he threw it towards the target. It was hard and fast and it was a hit. The mechanism was quick and before anyone had registered the hit Gina plummeted into the water. Her first thought was that it was cold and as a natural reaction she tried to swim up towards the surface, but she quickly realized that it was impossible of course. The boots were very heavy and did their job of keeping her under water, just as they should. Gina closed her mouth and started to finger herself again, just as she had planned. She tried to look out at the crowd, but the water made everything blurry, so she closed her eyes instead. This was it, she had taken her last breath and she only had minutes to live. Soon enough she would be dead. Not long after that the people watching her demise would be able to enjoy her meat. This thought, combined with her furious fingering was enough to set of an orgasm of immense proportions, it rocked her body and it was no doubt the best orgasm she had ever had. For a brief moment she opened her mouth to scream out her pleasure, but this of course resulted in water rushing in. She couldn't help it, but panic set in. She desperately wanted to breathe and started flailing wildly to get up to the surface, but as she had already discovered she was stuck. She opened her eyes and looked up. If she stretched her arm upwards she could almost reach the surface, but that of course didn't help. Very slowly the panic subsided or at least the signs of panic. With the lack of oxygen she couldn't move use her muscles. Her thoughts were becoming foggy, but she had one thought in her mind as she died; she had at least put on a good show. ** The fact that Gina had drowned slowly set in amongst the audience. There was one last bubble leaving her lungs and then nothing. She simply crumbled down a bit, her lifeless body slowly bobbing back and forth in the water. Her red hair stood like a halo around her head and her lifeless eyes stared out at the audience. Someone started clapping and everyone else quickly joined in. No one knew for sure if it was Gina or Juan that was being applauded, but it didn't matter. As the appluads slowly died down the attendant, Callie spoke. "That was quite the performance by our young drowner. I understand that a lot of you might want to get a piece of her and she will be served at the Steakhouse, if you don't know where that restaurant is you'll find it on the map here. You better hurry if you want to make sure that you get a piece of her. You can make your reservations now then come in and eat her at any time during the day." She pointed towards the mall's map. A lot of people seemed to know the way to Steakhouse anyway and set off. "We will keep her body in the tank for ten minutes so that anyone that wants to can take pictures. After that we'll empty the tank, get her body, and then fill the tank again. We should be back in action in two hours or so. Hope you enjoyed the show and please come back in two hours for more drowning action." With that Callie descended the stage and people started to take pictures of Gina's body. Melanie had been so captivated by the show that she hadn't even finished dressing again. As it stood she was wearing socks, shoes and skirt, but had yet to put on her bra and top. Her panties seemed to be missing, but that didn't really bother her. "That was awesome!" Melanie summarized. "It sure was, but I'm gonna love it even more when it's you in the tank!" Isabelle teased. At the same time she leaned in and flicked her tongue over Melanie's nipple. "Mhmmm." Melanie answered, not even bothering to chastise Isabelle for the evil comment. "So, what about you Emmy, did you like it?" "Yes, her panic in the end was exquisite. That desperate flailing as she tried to get up made me all happy inside." Emmy responded with a serene smile. "You know, Ems, some times I think that beneath that quiet exterior of yours lays unimaginable sadism." Isabelle said. "I'm going to take a walk on my own." Emmy said, not bothering to deny the allegations. "Fine, we'll be at my place later on if you want to hang out." Isabelle said to Emmy's back as the raven haired girl walked away. "Now, how about we go and spend my money!" Melanie said and held up the wad of cash she had earned from sitting on the dunk tank. "Yeah, I know exactly where to go!" "You just want to spend my money in the slavery equipment shop!" "Maybe...." Isabelle admitted. "Something painful to use on me no doubt." "Well..." "Sorry, I have other plans." "It better be buying some sexy clothing!" "Of course!" And with that the two friends set off towards the nearest clothing store. Isabelle whose parents were fairly well off always had money to spend and Melanie of course had just earned her spending money. An hour or so later, they emerged from the last clothing store in the mall. Of course, an hour was a fairly quick shopping spree. They did come the mall almost every weekend so it didn't take that long to check out what was new and what was on sale. They had bought a pair of slinky dresses on sale. It was the same model, Isabelle's dress purple and Melanie's green. In addition to that Melanie had bought a bracelet and Isabelle a pair of boots and a pair of jeans. It was an average haul for them and they were just about to leave when they ran into Mr. Towers, the history teacher at their school. He was in his fourties, handosme and pretty well liked by most of his students. "Hello girls. It was nice to see you up on the dunk tank today Melanie. I was hoping that you'd sit for a longer time so that I'd have the chance to throw a ball." "Thanks, Mr. Towers. Maybe you'll get your chance some other day." Melanie said brightly. "I hope so, and maybe you too Isabelle?" "No, no, no! I plan on graduating, thank you." Isabelle said with a friendly smile. "Well it was nice meeting you. I better go. I have a reservation at the Steakhouse. Gina's thigh and a date is awaiting me. She did recommend thigh after all and how could I say no to that?" He sat off and started to walk towards the Steakhouse. Melanie and Isabelle started walking in the other direction, when Melanie suddenly was struck by an impulse. This however was not an impulse that Isabelle had prompted, this was an impulse of her own. She turned and ran up to Mr. Towers. Before Isabelle even had time to ask what on earth Melanie was doing, the blonde had blurted out her idea to Mr. Towers. "Hi again, Mr. Towers! If you get to throw one ball each at me and Isabelle will you let us share in eating Gina's thigh?" "What the fuck Mels!" Isabelle angrly shouted. "I just had an idea. Sorry!" Melanie sheepishly said as Isabelle came closer. The reason Isabelle was angry was simple. It was because now that the idea was out there she didn't really know how to say no. The fact was that Isabelle actually wanted to sit on the dunk tank. Or at least a small part of her wanted it. She had done it once before. Her family had been on vacation down in Miami and she had seen that dunk tank at work. It stood right on the beach, so the supply of barely clad young woman to try it was endless. During the course of a week Isabelle saw several women drown in that thing. It had been extremly erotic. Isabelle had not dared to try it, even if she had just become old enough to take part in snuff games. Then came the last night in Miami. Isabelle's father asked what the family wanted to do on the last night of their vacation. The first person to say anything was Isabelle who simply blurted out dunk tank. When she said it she had only meant that she wanted to see it again, but her family took it to mean that she wanted to try it and Isabelle was so flustered and turned on by the idea that she didn't even try to correct them. In the end she sat on it as five people threw the balls, one of them her father. It all took place in the evening so the tank was lit up by spotlights. Sitting on it was like being on a stage. Every eye on her and they all would have loved to see her drown, including her father, stepmother and younger sisters. She had just loved it and had the best orgasm of her life on that thing, just from her own fingers. "Maybe you girls should work this out first, but yes. I do accept your offer. You both sit and you do it for one ball each." Mr. Towers said and walked away to give them some privacy. "I can't believe you said something like that!" Isabelle hissed. "But it was soooo hot sitting on that thing. I already promised I'd sit there again so why not get something for it. And come on! I know you've always wanted a piece of Gina." Melanie defended herself. "Yes, but why did you drag me into this?" "Ohh, baby. You have to try it. It was theee....best...thing ever!!!" Melanie enthused Isabelle could see that Melanie only meant well. Melanie was a sweetheart through and through and Isabelle found it impossible to be angry for long. Clearly Mealnie only wanted Isabelle to have some fun. "Actually....I've already been on a dunk tank." "YOU HAVE?" Melanie screamed loud enough for people to turn around. "Yes....and it was awesome. I loved it! It's just I don't know if I'll ever want to get off that thing." "If you don't get off then I guess that's what you want. But you can worry about that later. Please tell me you're in, we're gonna get some very nice thigh meat and then we get to have fun on the tank." Isabelle still wavered. She had always planned on living for as long as possible, not becoming meat in her teens. "Pretty please!" Melanie said and adopted the poutiest, cutest expression she could muster. "You know I can't resist those puppy dog eyes, Mels. I'm in." ** As she said yes, Isabelle felt herself relaxing. This was actaully going to be fun. "Yay!" Melanie cheered and gave her best friend a kiss. With great enthusiasm Melanie dragged Isabelle over to the waiting Mr. Towers and announced their decision. "We're in! First some thigh and then you'll get your chance to snuff your naughty little students." Melanie exclaimed. "Let's go then I don't want to keep my date waiting!" The two girls and Mr. Towers made their way through the mall to the steakhouse. "You girls can go sit down there at table fourteen. I'll just have to make the arrengments so that you two get some meat as well. It will mean a little less for me, but I'm hoping it wil be worth it." "Sorry, I got angry before. This is actually a pretty cool idea." Isabelle said as they sat down. "No worries. You know, I almost wish I promised we'd sit for more than one ball each!" Melanie giggled. "Well, let's not sell ourselves to cheap here. But who knows, maybe we'll use this method again in the future." "I'm so glad you're doing this with me." "Yeah, just check with me before you get us into anything like this again in the future, OK?" "I promise." "I just got to text this to my friend list. People have been hoping to get a piece of Gina for so long and now they are all going to be jealous." Isabelle gloated. She fished her phone out of her her purse and started to write a message. "What'cha writing?" Isabelle, with the kind of quick texting only a popular teenage girl could posess showed the message: Guess who's gonna eat snuff slut Gina? Me and Mels! Suck it y'all! "You're such an evil bitch!" Melanie said in a frinedly tone. "Yes, I am and that's why you love me!" Isabelle retorted with a grin. "True that." Melanie admitted. Just then Mr. Towers approached the table. He was accompanied by a tall woman in her early twenties. She had long, straight, brown hair, black rimmed glasses and a very impressive set of tits that she showed off in a black dress with deep cleavage. "Ladies, meet my date. This is Shannon, she was a student of mine a few years back and after survivng university she's back in town to take over as biology teacher." "Nice to meet you!" Shannon said as she shook the hands of the two younger women. "Shannon was a little upset that I invited the two of you to our date so I promised that she'd get to throw one of the balls. I hope that is ok?" "Of course Mr. T. We wouldn't want to cause any trouble." Melanie answered. "That's so nice of you! I'm not the jealous type or anything, but I can't let him have all the fun now can I?" Shannon said and shared a laugh with the two other girls. "Three against one, what on earth have I got myself into?" Mr. Towers said and shook his head. "Look at the bright side Mr. T, if you're lucky two out of three girls at this table might have drowned by the end of the day!" Melanie said. "Well, that is a bright side I admit. And you can call me Greg outside of school by the way." "So, Shannon, who do you want to try to snuff later on? Me or Melanie?" Isabelle asked. The way they were seated around the table was Greg next to Melanie on one side and Shannon next to Isabelle on the other. This gave Shannon the chance to inspect Isabelle closely. "You're real cute and like me you're a brunette so I guess I choose you. To get rid of the competition and all." Shannon said. Isabelle was a little unnerved because she didn't really know exactly how serious Shannon was, but she decided to take it in stride and take it as a compliment. "I'm flattered, but you better be lucky cause you only get one chance!" "Maybe you should try to distract me like your friend did to the guy throwing a ball when she sat there!" Shannon said with a flirtatious grin. "You saw that?" Isabelle asked. "No, but Greg filled me in." "Well, let's just say that if you miss I'll make it up to you!" Isabelle responded and batted her eyelashes. Isabelle was in a good mood and Shannon was pretty damn good looking so having some fun afterwards would certainly be something Isabelle wouldn't mind. It aslo helped of course that it might distract Shannon from what she was supposed to be doing, hitting the target that would send Isabelle plummeting. Melanie was happy and amused to see Isabelle get into the mood. Melanie too would have loved to try distract Greg with another promise of a blowjob, but she didn't dare to lest Shannon might get jealous. Sure, most girls didn't mind if their date got a blowjob from a little snuff slut, but Shannon might not be one of them. Whoops, I just referred to myself as a snuff slut, Melanie realized and let out a little giggle. "Looks like our meal is coming." Greg observed. The waitress, a young blonde wth her hair in a ponytail and a smile on her lips, carried the four plates with ease. "Four plates of thigh a la Gina. The meat has been oven roasted with the skin still on for that lovely crispyness. Lightly seasoned with garlic, sage and sea salt and oven roasted potato on the side." the waitress explained as she set the plates down. This being a steakhouse in a mall, simplicity was the focus. No starter, no sauce with the meat, no vegetables. This was all about letting the meat take center stage. "Thank you my dear!" Greg said graciously. The wine, a bottle of red, had already been delivered to the table and Greg poured for everyone. "Let's have a toast. A toast to Gina, the girl who lived up to her promise!" Greg proclaimed. Melanie had only drunk wine a few times before and had yet to start enjoy it for any other reason than for the purpose of getting drunk, but she had to admit that this wine was quite enjoyable. Girlmeat on the other hand she had eaten and enjoyed on many occasions. She took a deep breath, drawing the scent of Gina's meat into her nose. It was always special to eat someone you knew. Now, on most occasions Melanie was not what you would call a deep thinker. She preferred to breeze through life. When she ate the meat of someone she knew however she always took the time to think about her connection to that woman. It was a way of paying respect to the sacrafice so to speak. The moment that stood out for Melanie was a party. It was just after Gina had become known around school for her promise not to graduate. Gina, basking in her newfound fame was entertaining the party with a slow striptease. Isabelle had been her usual self and managed to convince Melanie to join Gina on the floor. Gina took the opportunity to make the striptease into a lesbian love show. The two of them slowly undressed each other, teased each other and kissed. It ended with Gina going down on Melanie. It was the first time Melanie had sex with an audience and she just loved it. There had been a moment there where Melanie had been on the verge of blurting out that she too would get herself snuffed before the end of high school. It didn't happen because Gina moved in with a kiss, but Melanie had often thought about that moment. "Let's eat!" Greg said and took a first bite, soon joined by the others. They ate in silence for a while. Not awkward silence, but a silence that came from the amazing taste of Gina's thigh. It wasn't a fancy restaurant, but they sure knew how to cook their meet. The crispyness of the skin and the tenderness of the meat made for a heavenly combination. "She was never a good student, but she sure made up for it with her meat." Greg said. "Which thigh was it by the way?" Isabelle asked. Isabelle too had her own fond memories of Gina. They had been working on a project together at Isabelle's place. It really was a nightmare to be paired with Gina, because she obviosuly didn't care much. Instead of doing what she was supposed to do she had rummaged through Isabelle's stuff and eventually found a strap-on. Isabelle made a deal, she would give Gina a good hard fucking if Gina would just concentrate and make an effort. Afterwards Isabelle had to admt that the improvised little study break had been nice and Gina actually did her part so that they passed the project. "I don't know." Greg said as he signalled for the waitress to come over. "Excuse me, but can you please tell me which thigh this was?" "Ohh, that was the left thigh I believe." the waitress supplied before huryring off to another table. Isabelle thought back to that moment. She had a movie playing in her head of the black strap-on going in and out of Gina's wet pussy. And right there was was the left thigh, the thigh she was now eating. It was quite an erotic thought and Isabelle felt completely confident that she had made the right call in going along with Melanie's idea. ** Slowly, but surely they finished their meal. The discussion veered in various directions. Greg told the story of how his last wife had planned and prepared her own 30th birthday party, a party where she had been the main course. Shannon told about various adventures she had been through at university. Isabelle who was hoping to go to college after high school asked a lot of questions. Eventurally though every last scrap of Gina was gone. Greg poured the last wine, giving it to Isabelle and Melanie. "Me and Shannon shouldn't be drinking this, we need to have steady hands and good aim after all." he explained with a grin. "Of course. You missed last time you tried to snuff a student so you better stay sober if want to even have the slightest, tiniest chance of making it." Melanie teased. Greg simply chuckled and shook his head in response. "I bet you really want to snuff me now, huh?" Melanie went on. "Yes, you three go ahead while I pay. I see that they are about to open the tank up again in a few minutes and we better make sure we're first so that we won't have to wait." He handed Shannon a few bills to pay for the balls and then the three girls hurried through the mall towards the dunk tank. They arrived just in time to see the tank fill up completely again. There were several girls milling around, looking like they were close to volunteering for a stint on the tank. Fortunately though no one had gone through with it yet so Melanie and Isabelle could go first. "I wanna go first!" Melanie enthused. "That's fine. Greg should be here any minute." Shannon said. She then leaned in and whispered in Melanie's ear. "If you want to try to distract him with a blowjob, that's fine with me." "You sure?" Shannon nodded. "You're so sweet!" Melanie said and gave Shannon a quick kiss. She then walked up to the man by the computer. "Nice to see you again. I still got to scan you though." the man said. This time it wasn't just Melanie who needed to strip. Isabelle would need to get naked as well for her turn. Again Melanie thought back to the time she and Gina had put on a show. At the time Isabelle had been in the audience watching, but this time Melanie wanted her to join. "Let's put on a show!" Melanie said. Isabelle had never planned on being the kind of girl who put on strip tease shows close to snuff games, but she was in good spirits and decided to throw caution to the wind. She remembered the exictement she had felt when she sat on that dunk tank down in Miami. It was so damn hot and right now Isabelle felt like living a little. She several familar faces in the crowd, girls and boys she knew from school. Among them was Isabelle's sister, Marielle and her friend Kendra. That meant word of this would reach her parents very soon. It didn't matter though, all Isabelle wanted right now was to have fun. There was no music, but that didn't matter. Both girls were in the mood to show off and they had the audience's undivided attention. Isabelle moved in and embraced her friend from behind, then proceeded to do some groping before slowly removing Melanmie's top and then bra. After sharing a brief kiss they then switched places. Isabelle's was wearing a blue tank top and tight white jeans. She sexily wiggled out of the jeans with the help of Melanie. After some more gyrating, touching, dancing and kissing both friends were finally naked. Isabelle would have to wait in nudity for her her turn on the dunk tank, but she didn't mind. In fact she quite liked the anticipation it built. "Good luck up there." Isabelle said and gave her friend a kiss. After having her meat tag scanned Melanie quickly made her way up the stairs. She was in such good spirits that she didn't even let the attendant, Callie, ask any questions. Instead she simply explained everything to the audience. How she had been up her earlier today, how fun it had been and how she had made a deal with her teacher and his date. "Well, looks like you know what you're doing." Callie said as Melanie sat down on the chair. Greg arrived just in time to see Melanie get strapped into the weighted boots. She waved happily towards him. "Hi, Mr T. Guess what? I'm going to distract you. If you miss you'll get a blowjob like you'll never had before." Melanie proudly proclaimed. Greg chuckled and smiled. "Sorry Melanie, but I'm still going to try to hit." Melanie didn't bother to respond. She had nothing more to add. All she wanted right now was to focus on her own pleasure. Being up on the dank tank a second time was just as exciting as the first for Melanie. Perhaps even more so now that she knew where she would end up. That steakhouse knew their stuff and Melanie imagined her own thigh on a plate, just like Gina's. It fuelled her desire and she got lost in her own fantasies. "Any recommendation if I hit?" Greg asked. "Well, I don't know...I know that Isabelle loves to tenderize my rump roast so maybe that." Had Isabele not already been standing stark naked and just put on a lesbian strip-tease she might have been embarassed by Melanie's remark, but as it was she just smiled and nodded. "Ready?" Greg asked. He had no obligation what so e ver to actually ask that of course, but he still did it. Melanie thought it was very polite and she reminded herself to reward him for that if she survived. "I'm ready! Do your best!" ** Greg took a deep breath and sent the ball flying, but it was a miss. It wasn't even further from the target than his attempt earlier in the day. He didn't seem too upset though. He simply shrugged his shoulders. "Sorry, Mr T. At least you're going to get your consolation prize." Melanie said and mimicked a blowjob with her hand and tongue pushing against her cheek. The audience loved Melanie's enthusiasm and cheered her, even if they probably would have preferred to see her plunge down into the water. Melanie started to make her way down and was met in the stairs by Isabelle. "Look at you. So eager to go that you won't even let me walk down the stairs before you want to go up." Melanie teased. "Well yeah. I've already admitted I like this why not embrace it?" Isabelle said. As they passed each other Melanie turned around and gave Isabelle a smack on the ass. "Hey! I'm the one doing the ass smacking in our friendhsip." Isabelle said in mock anger. "Guess you'll have to punish me with a spanking later on." Melanie teased. "If you survive that is." "Ohh I will." "So, you're part of this whole making a deal with your teacher thing then?" Callie asked as Isabelle reached the platform next to the dunk tank. "Yeah, Mel there got me into this, but I have to admit I kinda like it. The two of us got to have a piece of Gina's thigh and all we have to do is to have one go at the tank." Isabelle explained. "So, you are going to be up here for one throw then?" "Yes, It's my teacher's girlfriend down there who is going try to snuff me." Isabelle said and blew Shannon a kiss. "Have you ever done anything like this before?" "I have actually and I hate to admit it, but I liked it." "Ok, let's get you strapped in!" "Ohh, yes." Isabelle sat herself down and looked out at the audience. There were several people she knew, but the one she focused on was a person she had just met. Right at this moment Shannon, Greg's girlfriend, was the one Isabelle cared about. Shannon had this really hungry, lustfull look in her eyes. It was a predatory look and it sent shivers down Isabelle's spine. "That's done! Try lifting your feet." Callie instructed. "I can barely lift my feet at all." Isabelle noticed. It was an incredible feeling, being so stuck. Being somehwat of an expert on boots like these Isabelle knew how they worked. They were constructed in such a way that the person wearing them couldn't possibly unlock them. This was done by three dials of sorts on the back of the boots. These dials had to be in the exact right poistion for them to unlock. To call them boots wasn't really right, they were more like safes that attached to the feet of a girl. "Shannon, I hope you remember how good I promised to make you feel if you miss!" Isabelle loudly said. "I remember that......but on the other hand I'm sure your slutty friend over here will do the same if I hit." Shannon retorted. Melanie, that show-off, was still naked and standing next to Shannon. "Hey I'm not slutty...or...well...I guess I am!" Melanie giggled. "You're such a traitor. I'll spank you if I survive this!" Isabelle said. She wasn't really angry with Melanie of course. Melanie was simply being herself and honestly Isabelle loved her for that. "You've already promised me a spanking, so by my count that's a double spanking then." "Double spanking it is then." Isabelle summarized. "You two sluts done bickering so that I can throw?" Shannon asked. "I'm ready!" Isabelle proudly declared. Wiggling her tits for emphasis. "Any part you'd recommend for when I order dinner later on?" Shannon asked. "Let's say rump rust. That was a good idea by Mel. I'm sitting on it now so I can't show you, but I promise you it's good quality. Cheerleader training and all that. Ohh and another thing it is IF you order me for dinner, not WHEN." Shannon sure seemed confident, but that didn't worry Isabelle much. She was sure the bespecled brunette was just trying to give her a scare. Still, sitting here was in no way risk free and that element of risk did wonders for Isabelle's libido. It really was pretty much impossible for any girl sitting up here to refrain from pleasuring herself and Isabelle was no exception. She was rubbing her clit with the thumb and had two fingers exploring her pussy. "Let's have a countdown from ten and then I'll throw!" Shannon said. It started out a bit muddled, but from 7 and down everyone was in sync. 6...5...4...3...2...1. Shannon was ready and sent the ball flying. Isabelle had a fraction of a second to realize that the sound she heard wasn't the dull thud of a missed ball. It was the clanking sound of a hit. Ohhh sh..was all Isabelle could say before the ledge disappeared from under her and she fell down into the cold water. Isabelle had known the risk and got off on it, but she hadn't actually thought it would happen. The chance of a hit was so small after all, something like 1 in 20. Her first reaction was panic. She thrashed about wildly in the water, doing everything she could to get up. She actually managed to raise one of her feet ever so slightly, a few inches. Even so, she had no chance of ever getting to the surface and she knew it. This was not what she had had planned. She had always felt she was a girl with a future, but now she was going to drown here for the entertainment of a random bunch of mall goers. It was all incredibly scary, but even so was turned on. After the inital panic had subsided she made sure to keep her mouth closed. All she could do now was to make the best of it, so she plunged three of her fingers hard and deep into her pussy, while at the same time rubbing her clit. She fucked herself furiously. She felt an orgasm drawing close, but would she achive it before she drowned? It was a race against time. She thought about what would happen to her body. How good she would look like lifeless in the tank. She had always been proud of her looks and she knew that she was putting on a good show. Most importantly though, she thought about the recommendation she had made. She had recommended rump roast. Not just any rump roast, but her own. She imagined Melanie and Greg and Shannon sharing her perfect cheerleader ass on a plate. She felt panic set in again as the lack of oxygen was getting to her, but more importantly she felt the orgasm coming. It took her over completely. She came hard. Knowing that it was her last orgasm ever, just made it better. Part of her still wanted up, wanted to breathe again, but even so she had accepted her fate. Kowing that she would make a good meal consoled her as she died. Melanie was completely in awe. Her very best friend who she had known all her life was dying in front of her eyes. There was sadness of course, but also excitment. When Isabelle started to finger herself under water Melanie had done the same. She had mirrored her friend almost exactly and when Isabelle orgasmed so did Melanie. One last orgasm shared between friends. The orgasm did nothing to sate Melanie's arousal though. She was so turned on she could hardly breathe or think. She turned to Greg and Shannon. "Please take me home with you!" She pleaded. "Don't you want to have a bite of your friend?" "Ohh, yes. We can come back here later and have dinner, but please just take me home and fuck me good first. Please, please, please!" Greg chuckled at her eagerness. "Of course. I'll just go and make a reservation for dinner and then we'll go home to my place." "Fair warning though kid, when we have another girl to play with me and Greg play rough." Shannon said and gave Melanie a glare. "I wouldn't have any other way." Melanie responded defiantly. THE END.

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Boy Meets Girl Meets Girl Part: Chapter 14 of 25 Universe: PdV's Boy Meets Girl Meets Girl Summary: A romantic view of the unusual erotic encounters of three older teenagers Keywords: F-Solo, mfF, oral, mast, rom Language: English Copyright: 2003 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* Cilla, Sonia and I had forged an unlikely three-way relationship recently, culminating in the loss of Cilla's and my virginities with Sonia's assistance. We had bought some toys yesterday and it was now Sonia's turn to be visited. ********************************************* Cilla came over to Sonia's after lunch on Sunday. Sonia's mother, a fantastic cook, had been hospitable. Having had us all there the previous evening she treated Cilla's arrival as a normal occurrence. She had watched how her daughter interacted with the youth she had invited into their home. There was definite affection there and she watched our frequent eye contact and physical touching with a little disquiet. Her daughter had exams coming up and then another full year at high school. She had the intelligence and dedication to do well at university though she hadn't specified any career preference yet. The introduction of a boyfriend for her daughter was a complication she had hoped to defer, if not avoid. She wanted her daughter to find someone (one day) and had so far found me and my prospects to be acceptable. She just didn't want the distraction deleteriously affecting her daughter's future. And so she welcomed the presence of another girl who, she hoped, would tone down the friendship. It had only been just over a week since her daughter had been talking about me as something other than one of a dozen names that got sprinkled into her daughter's conversation. If Cilla got me interested in her instead, Sonia might be broken hearted for a while but she could then concentrate on her education. I wonder how she would have felt knowing the truth. We sat and talked and Sonia's baby photos were inevitably paraded. Cilla and I got to see a pictorial history of her deceased father and absent brother Hugh. There was an obvious family resemblance between the two men and a similar likeness on the distaff side. I looked closer at Sonia's mother Diane, seeing the woman my younger love was likely to resemble as she aged; I could certainly happily live the rest of my life with a woman like that by my side. (A little superficial maybe - more a case of being delighted at finding she was not likely to become an old crone.) Diane looked up from the album to find me staring at her as was puzzled when I smiled at her. Did I find the photos amusing? Was there some joke she had missed? Was I coming on to her? She dismissed the thought of a young lad being interested in her. If asked I could have told her that many my age would die for a chance to get in her pants. She was still attractive, although old enough to be my mother, and a teenager's lust would overlook the age difference in a flash. As I turned back to the photos she considered me more closely. I was good looking enough (not model material maybe but well away from the ugly end of the scale) and fit. I had been courteous and helpful, attentive to all three ladies and not loud or boastful. Basically she could see why her daughter, and Cilla, and (she admitted guiltily) herself, would find me interesting. She didn't normally find herself perving at young men (okay not quite true but that was in passing on the street, not spending time with them in her lounge room). However she had been unsuccessful romantically since a car accident had taken the life of her husband three years earlier. The one man who had come along hadn't stayed and she had had to take her self in hand. It had been so long. She began daydreaming. What would it be like, she wondered, to take me in hand, literally and obscenely, and instruct me in the bedroom arts. That daydream, and indeed her own actual experiences, were nothing compared to he daughter's activities, even just considering the events of previous day. Still she flushed with embarrassment when a question from Sonia broke through the image of me plunging my prick (imagined with a fair bit more poetic licence than reality) into her cunt as she wrapped her legs behind my back. She looked back and forth at our faces feeling as though we knew exactly what she had been thinking. "I'm sorry dear. What did you say?" Sonia repeated her question and received a more or less coherent answer. Diane shook herself and joined in the conversation again. The phone rang. Diane got up and answered it. It turned out that one of her partners needed a document printed so he could pick it up on his way past later. She would have to make a quick trip into work. "I have to go into the office for a little while. I hope you don't mind. I should be only an hour or so." Diane put her glass in the kitchen then went to her bedroom and slipped a couple of toys into her handbag. "I'll kill two birds with one stone", she thought. She came back to the lounge and we said goodbye. She shared a small accounting practice only about 15 minutes drive from home. It wasn't unusual for her to pop back in while the place was empty to catch up on a particular job without interruption so Sonia wasn't surprised. Diane let herself in and turned off the alarm, calling the security service and giving an estimate of how long she would be in. She went through an outer room where her two assistants normally worked and into her private office which was a little more luxuriously outfitted. As one of three equal partners, she enjoyed some perks in her private domain - including a personal ensuite and bar facilities. The existing facilities had simply been retained and upgraded somewhat when an old rambling house had been converted to offices for the practise. This was useful when she was called upon to visit or entertain (never "that way") a client at short notice and needed some way of freshening up. After starting the printer she locked both the outer and her personal doors and removed her dress. This was carefully hung in a closet already containing a number of outfits suitable for a variety of business and social occasions. She stood in plain bra and panties, her shoes kicked to one side, as she mixed herself a drink. She thought back to her earlier embarrassing moment. "Damn. Getting hot over a 17 year old. And my daughter's boyfriend to boot!" In truth, she could have focussed on anyone; I just happened to be the male present at the time her thoughts turned to sex. Still I would have been flattered to know she saw me in that light even though it would have made our future interactions a little awkward. Diane took her drink over to her desk and looked at the executive office chair she normally used. "Shouldn't get the fabric stained, I suppose." She got a towel from a shelf in the closet and draped it over the chair before reaching behind her to unfasten her bra. Knickers soon followed it to the floor and she sat down and took another sip. She thought it was fortunate she was responsible for building security and maintenance. The idea of someone putting a closed circuit TV camera somewhere in her office would have been rather embarrassing but the thought of someone watching her masturbate at work was also somewhat exciting. She had only done this once before. An attractive client had been very attentive over a business lunch and she found herself horny as hell by the end of the meal. It turned out he was married yet still on the prowl. She was disappointed that he could get her juice flowing and then turn out to be such a sleaze. If circumstances had been different she might have had to get a sitter for Sonia but she wasn't interested in being the "other woman". So when she found herself alone back at the office after everyone else had left she decided to take herself in hand and started her engine in the shower. On that occasion she didn't have any toys available and had to simply use what nature provided. It had been sufficient, and satisfying. Now, however, her actions were premeditated and she had come prepared and was prepared to come. She had brought two toys, a vibrator not unlike the larger pair Sonia had selected, and a slightly thicker dildo that was still thinner than the double header her daughter had yet to try. Diane started by rubbing her breast with one hand and trying to moisten her pussy with the other. She thought of the lover who had shared her life until the accident had violently separated them. As she closed her eyes and tried to remember his touch and strength and taste the image kept returning to the young man she had left with her daughter. That train of thought then had her imagination swirling from my being between her thighs to those of her sixteen year old daughter. "Get out of my head, this is MY fantasy", she 'told' her daughter. Sonia faded and once again I thrust deep into Diane. She reached out and applied her favourite toy to the entrance of her cunt. It slipped into that wet orifice, pushing the muscles aside as she felt it filling her. She turned it on and a muted buzzing could be heard throughout the otherwise quiet office. Diane manipulated it, fucking herself and widening her organ for the larger toy she had waiting. When she judged herself ready, she removed the vibrator and laid it, still running, beside her in the chair. She picked up the dildo and reclined back, her feet on the side of the desk with legs spread wide, lewdly displaying her pussy to the imaginary person seated opposite her. "I hope I don't fall backwards. I'd look bloody silly found dead on Monday with a foot long dong stuffed up my clacker." She fed the enormous head into her opening, feeling it stretch to accommodate the extra width. It had been stretched wider on two occasions but those had been many years ago and had involved more pain than joy at the time. The joy had come later as she held her newborn babies. Now there was an urgency. She needed to feel a totally different and far more immediate joy. She pushed the jelly-like object deeper, moving it back and then forcing it in. Two steps forward, one step back. Eventually it was as deep as she could comfortably fit it. It had taken her a couple of minutes and she had no intentions of plunging it in and out quite yet. It filled her and the feel of her muscles being stretched caused an itch in her pussy that she knew how to scratch. Diane's hand fumbled for the other toy she had put down. The buzzing made it easy to locate but not recover in her prone position. The chair wobbled a bit as she lifted her butt to retrieve her "best friend". She applied that to her pussy, rubbing it at the sides of her jelly dong and then back over her clit. She would have been horrified had her daughter told her of the additional pleasure she could achieve with yet another vibrator plying an anal route. "Nice girls" didn't even know about that in her day and it wasn't something her husband had ever proposed so she was an anal virgin in thought as well as deed. Though more knowledgeable now, in her mind it was still something only relevant for gay men. As the vibrations eased her tension in some respects and built it higher in others she took the dildo in her hand and started a slow pumping motion. As she drew it out it initially felt like her insides were being drawn out with it. The adhesion broke as she kept up the pressure and the ring of flesh around the dildo slipped back along it, adding extra lubrication for the next piston stroke. Diane withdrew it until she could feel the artificial mushroom head just inside her vaginal opening. She started its downwards thrust with more force this time as she accommodated its width and her juices smoothed its passage. Her thin cunt lips were caught by its passage to be pinched and stretched inside her. The slight sting added a distinctly different yet surprisingly pleasurable effect. They were freed by the next outwards stroke and Diane increased the tempo. She released the vibrator to take the dildo in both hands and it fell to the floor rolling under her desk to lie buzzing pointlessly. In, Out, In, Out. the oversized phallus pleasantly rubbed over her G-spot with both movements. The head of her toy popped free and she hastened to reinsert it. The next stroke trapped some air and this farted past the dildo as she pushed it home. Her excitement was building and the chair was drawn closer to the desk as she bent her knees, spreading them to give herself as much room as possible. She looked over her pale, flat belly as the black rubber object appeared and disappeared in turn. She had wondered why they always seemed to make the bigger models in black. It had reminded her of the joke - What is 12 inches long and white? Nothing! Right now she didn't care if it had yellow polka dots. All dildos are black when they are buried deep or if your eyes are screwed tight as you bring yourself to an infrequent and much desired orgasm. Alone in the building Diane gave voice to her satisfaction at a level she couldn't achieve at hove. "Aaargh Yeeessss!" She had never been particularly vocal - it was especially difficult with two kids down the hall - but today everything felt so good and she wouldn't have cared (okay, an exaggeration) if there HAD been others to hear. She left the dildo in place and gently rubbed her pussy, just adding some pleasant sensations as she felt the tension of her orgasm ebb softly away. She felt the dampness on the inside of her thighs. It had happened again! When it had first occurred she had been terribly embarrassed, thinking she had pissed on her husband as he brought her to a mind-crashing finish. Instead he had been pleased. It had stunned her. He explained, wiping it up and getting her to smell his fingers. There was no smell of urine. Instead, as he told her, she had experienced a female ejaculation. It seemed the differences between men and women were fairly small and some women could produce enough of the equivalent of seminal fluid for its emission to be noticeable when a climax caused general contractions through their pelvic regions. She had never mentioned it to anyone else, feeling it was a little strange, almost like she wasn't feminine enough, but on those occasions when she produced tangible evidence she had come her husband had expressed such joy that she wished it happened more often. She lay back in her office chair and squeezed internally, watching as the black rubber snake, glistening with her juices, performed its own Indian Rope trick. Like toothpaste from a tube it rose up out of its "container" until insufficient remained inside to bear its weight. It fell to one side, broke free with a plopping sound and dropped to the floor. Diane left it there while she felt her hole with both hands. It always amazed here how the tunnel remained open for a while after it was vacated. She had used a torch and a hand mirror once, squatting down to look at the bright red ridged wall inside her cunt. She got up and refreshed her drink before getting on all fours to retrieve her toys and to turn off the vibrator. She was going to have a shower but decided she might have trouble explaining wet hair. "Bugger it", she thought. "I'm not that bad. I'll have a wash when I get home." She packed things away and got dressed again, putting the protective towel into the laundry basket in the en suite. The cleaners would attend to it during the week. She set the alarm and locked up leaving a hint of her nether perfume as a reminder of her presence, and activity, in her office. It would be gone by Monday morning. ----- When she got home she found us playing cards. She excused herself and headed for the bathroom only to find a fresh set of towels. She had only replaced them herself the previous day so was surprised and a little curious. Whatever the cause, she could ask Sonia later. Now she just wanted to make sure she didn't smell like a cat in heat. ----- What had happened to the towels? It all had to do with one of Sonia's special requests the previous day. When we had made our illicit foray into a sex shop, Sonia had spotted an item that she thought would be fun. After her mother had left us alone, she decided to see how much fun it actually was. "I need to freshen up", she said with a smile. "Anyone want to join me?" I think this could definitely be considered a rhetorical question. I doubted Cilla would say "No" and what young man who wasn't in a coma would reject an opportunity for a soapy cuddle with two of the sweetest young women around. We stripped off in Sonia's room. Who knew when her mother would be back and it would be easier to cover our asses (literally) if our clothes weren't spread around the lounge. We traipsed naked from her bedroom to the shower, the girls whispering behind me as I was sent ahead to adjust the water. They joined me as I got the temperature right and Sonia grabbed the soap. She started lathering my back while Cilla crushed her wet front against mine. I immediately hardened, my prick rising between her legs to be blocked by her pussy. She scolded me for being impatient which I found a little unfair considering the feel, firstly, of her lovely body in my arms and, secondly, of Sonia's hand as she soaped between my legs cleaning between my ass cheeks and fondling my balls. I was allowed a couple of quick kisses but they had something else in mind and I found we REALLY were there to freshen up. We dried each other off with Sonia's towel. (She should have got some fresh ones!) That was a fun experience in itself - pandering to, and being pandered to in turn by two squeaky clean maidens (not being particularly pedantic in my terminology.) I was led back to Sonia's room where Cilla asked me to lay on the bed. "Mais certaiment, ma chere" She undid the ties holding her hair back and shook her head to free the tresses. She climbed up onto me and sat over my face, pinning my arms under her shins. With a fresh pussy perched invitingly in front of me what could I do but tuck in. I could hear Sonia moving around her room but my view was limited to Cilla's belly, tits and face as she looked down at her cunning linguist. (Okay it's an old joke!) Sonia took my right hand and wrapped something soft around my wrist a few times. I couldn't do anything about it unless I was prepared to try and throw Cilla off me. If I could that is; I wasn't in the best position to get the leverage needed. If you're going to get tied up, or down I suppose, there's a couple of important requirements. The first and most important is trust. I certainly trusted them not to do anything harmful or publicly embarrassing. I didn't trust them not to do something weird or disaccommodating but that didn't worry me. I was likely to end up enjoying whatever their devious minds came up with. The second thing was some way of identifying "Stop it - I like it" from "Stop it - I mean it". As nothing had been mentioned prior to the restraints being applied it had not been possible to come to any arrangement and, since I had been taught not to speak with my mouth full, it would have been impolite of me to try to say anything just then. The good part of being ambushed by the devious duo was that they weren't really into S&M but were more interested in teasing me. Sonia went around to each limb in turn, securing me to her bed with old pantyhose. The nylons would be rather difficult to tear, if not impossible without doing myself a serious injury. I was neatly trussed. "Ready", Sonia told Cilla. "Aw, do I have to stop? He's doing such a good job." "Mfmph Hff Mmt Mhh." So much for being polite. Sonia leaned over Cilla's leg to look into my eyes. "If you're not a good boy you will just end up missing out." Cilla climbed off my face leaving it wet with her juices. Sonia licked my cheeks. "Miss out on what?" Sonia held my face and kissed me. "You", she said with a pause, "will find out." She got up and went to rummage through a drawer. "Ah! I thought it was still here." She got a woollen scarf and folded it over to make a narrow band which she secured around my head with a safety pin. By crossing my eyes I could just see down the side of my nose; not a worthwhile exercise. How come I missed out on seeing my young beauties? What was worse, Sonia and Cilla started making noises in the background which indicated I was missing out on more than a nice perv. It turned out that the blindfold wasn't all that much of an inconvenience. Any sounds or comments made by the others were immediately the subject of intense speculation. Reality sometimes fell far short of my active imagination. I did however miss out on seeing Sonia licking the chocolate spread that Cilla had "painted" on one of her breasts. There wasn't really any need for an added incentive. Sonia would have been happy to suck on that tit without its chocolaty coating. Still it was fun cleaning off the brown sticky mess with its hazelnut flavour. The young women were standing beside my imprisoning bed. Cilla was giggling as she held Sonia's head in place against her breast. "What WAS happening?" I wondered silently. Sonia finished cleaning her lover and raised her face for a kiss. Cilla licked the brown lipstick from around her girlfriends mouth before pushing her tongue through the waiting lips. Cilla broke off the kiss and looked into Sonia's eyes. "God I love this girl", she thought. She whispered in the smaller girls ear and Sonia nodded in agreement. I noticed the smell but couldn't quite recognise it. I did hear someone on each side of the bed however. Then I felt my nipples being rubbed. "Hang on, what was that?" The fingers moving across my chest were coated with something thick and sticky. The smell was stronger. Unseen by me, Sonia and Cilla licked the excess chocolate spread from each others fingers. Sonia, finding the taste becoming a little sickening by itself had a thought. "Hand on a minute." She went to the bathroom and returned with one of the drier towels. "Slip this under him", she instructed and disappeared out the door again. "Okay. Lift up Lover." Cilla pushed the towel through while I obediently arched my back. The towel was crumpled uncomfortably under me when I relaxed but Cilla had moved to the other side of the bed and got me to lift up again while she smoothed it out. I got a quick kiss "for being good" and from the taste of her lips finally realized what I had been smelling. "Good!" Sonia was back and I heard some more strange sounds. Your imagination does work overtime when you can't see what's happening around you. Have you ever tried to guess a "secret sound" competition on the radio? This time I totally failed to guess that the zipper-like noise was due to the catch-release-catch action of the lid being removed from a small plastic tub of vanilla ice-cream. I have a slight depression over my breast bone and this made an ideal bowl for my despicable darling to deposit a freezing scoop. I gasped at the sudden sensations, the cold almost burning with its unexpected chill. I couldn't get up and the best angle I could achieve by arching my back again only served to slide the frozen blob around its "bowl". A hand on each shoulder forced me down and I felt a breast against my side as someone leaned over me. I'd recognise that tit anywhere, blindfolded or not. Cilla! Okay, that might not be quite truthful but I would be willing to wager a reasonable mount that, blindfolded, I could pick her out of a room of say 20 naked women by touch alone. It might take me several hours though but I wouldn't care about losing the bet if I did end up being unable to tell. Still I was right this time (big deal - 50/50 chance with C cups compared to A) and Cilla licked up some of the softer dessert as it melted on my hot body. She continued across my chest to lick a path through the chocolate over my nipple. As Cilla leaned back Sonia took her turn. "Much nicer", she thought. "Hey! What about me?" Cilla took pity on me and taking a bite out of the ball of the mushy ice-cream she added a lick of chocolate and deposited it in my mouth, sharing it with a messy kiss. It might sound a bit disgusting but think about it. You swap a fair bit of saliva kissing (at least the way we do it); your tongues are in and out each others mouths - where's the difference? "Thank you", I said as I swallowed. Sonia had watched and took her own turn to feed me, her tongue tickling sensuously as it collected some chocolate sauce. Between them, and periodically me, my chest was eventually cleaned up. Well, left rather sticky actually with a dairy smell from the melted ice-cream. I heard the girls move and wondered what was next. With all the attention I had been receiving there was no way I could have remained limp and it was therefore no great surprise to find Cilla's hand on my erect cock. She gave it a couple of pumps just to make sure and I heard another sharp snap from Sonia's side of the bed. It wasn't the ice-cream again. I could imagine my poor prick freezing as my loves dined on more chocolate-coated vanilla. Sonia had other ideas. I heard the aerosol spray as a coating of instant whipped cream foamed up and over my genitals. I couldn't see it but I could feel the coating growing as Sonia directed the spray up and down my cock and over my balls. "Our own banana split!" laughed Cilla. She ran her finger along my prick leaving a line through the cream. "Here's the banana...". She tickled my balls, "Here's the nuts. Plenty of cream, ice-cream if we want. Hmmm. Something's missing. I know - we need a cherry on top." Sonia laughed. "Coming up". She almost leapt on the bed and straddled my thighs, plonking her pussy down over the mess. "One cherry as ordered!" Cilla joined my virginal girlfriend in her merry laughter. I'm glad I couldn't see what it looked like but the feeling of Sonia sliding her "cherry" along my "banana" was wonderful. She lifted up and carefully moved along my body to kneel on my arms with another serve of dessert positioned over my mouth like a mother bird feeding her hungry chicks. I had been taught to eat what was put in front of me without complaint, to Sonia's delight, and with gusto started to lick my "plate" clean. At the other end of the bed Cilla had also decided to clean things up and, starting at the nuts, worked her way up until she was devouring the banana whole. One of life's memorable moments I think. Compared to the excessive sweetness of the cream, Sonia's normally sweet pussy provided a tarter flavour to my meal. She moved around so I could clean up the cream from the top of her legs and from the fine black hair but kept coming back so I could play "hunt the cherry" with my tongue. She moved off briefly when I grunted urgently into her pussy and used a tissue to clear the cream that was blocking one of my nostrils. When she mounted my face again I played "force field" with her. She put her pussy right over my mouth and I continued licking but avoided actually touching her clit. Oh so close at times but never making contact. As the urgency grew in her, Sonia moved her hips to follow my tongue, trying to force me to lick her sensitive little bump. Nope. Missed again. Almost. I may have been tied up (or was it down?) but that didn't mean I couldn't have fun in my own way; a little passive resistance. Too high. Too low. Oops! (Hide my tongue back in my mouth for a second.) Sonia was getting frustrated. She grabbed my head in her hands and started performing pelvic tilts. If Glyn wouldn't come to the party she would damn well see that the party went to Glyn. She used my nose to masturbate against, making it difficult to breath at times. There was still an occasional bit of cream around and I found one deep breath being wasted on a spluttery sneeze that cleared the nostril again. In self-defence I capitulated. I pushed upwards with my tongue when she was moving backwards and made contact with the disputed region. The force field preventing contact now became super glue instead as I tried to follow her movement and not lose contact as I licked at her clit. At least my poor nose got a rest and my airways remained clear. Sonia picked up speed and was rubbing her pussy right across my mouth as she enjoyed my increased efforts. Her legs clamped around my head as she shuddered and I felt the tension build, pause, and then slowly ebb from her body. I stopped eating. My tongue was a little tired and Sonia's pussy had become sensitive. She climbed off me and licked the remaining cream from my face before giving me a passionate kiss. "Thanks Love." "Thank you", I insisted. "I'll have to dine here again." "You're welcome. You can come here any time. I know I did." Ah, but I hadn't. While I had been eating the superb meal Sonia had provided, Cilla had finished cleaning me up and the feel of her tongue making long sweeps from the bottom of my hairy sack right along my prick as it pointed towards my belly button was exquisite. When she was satisfied all was clean she just rested her head next to it and gave it an occasional lick or kiss while watching her girlfriend rubbing her crotch all over my face. Cilla was happy to make me come but wanted it to happen at the same time as she did if at all possible. When Sonia finally got off me Cilla thought, "My turn now!" "Can I have another banana split?" she asked Sonia. She planned a little 69 and was still in a fun mood. I had started to eat her while she had waited for Sonia to secure me and she wanted more of the same. "How come I don't get a banana split?" I asked. "I can only see one banana here", said Cilla. "Are you getting kinky on us?" she asked. "KINKY!" I thought. "What the hell does she think this is?" Sonia however had a rather kinky idea of her own. "Hang on again" she asked Cilla. She ran out to the kitchen, double checking the clock to see how much longer her mother was likely to be. It might be a bit hard to explain the scenario in her bedroom if we were too long. She returned with a very green banana. It might not taste as nice but it would stay firmer than a riper one. She showed it to Cilla. "Are you game?" Cilla figured out Sonia's intention and thought it over. She couldn't see any problem. "Why not." Sonia peeled the banana. Fortunately it was the shorter variety with a triangular cross-section rather then the circular type that had the stereotypical banana bend. Cilla sat on the side of the bed and watched as Sonia manipulated the piece of fruit into her wet orifice. It was an easy enough job, Sonia's main concern being not to squeeze too hard so the banana wasn't squashed. Cilla found the sight between her legs to be somewhat obscene and certainly a turn on. "I've got my own hard on now." Not knowing what had been happening, this comment had me a little concerned about what was planned next. Sonia got the can of whipped cream. "Lean back." Cilla rested against my stomach and watched Sonia circle the base of the banana with foaming cream where it protruded from her cunt. Sonia then coated her curls and ran a line of cream along the visible part of the fruit. "That's enough I think. More would just fall off." What were they up to? Damn this blindfold! "What's going on?" I asked without much hope of being told. "I think he might enjoy seeing his next course", said Sonia. She passed the can to Cilla who used it to coat MY banana again. Sonia undid the scarf she had used as a blindfold but continued to hold it in place over my eyes while I felt Cilla kneel over me as she carefully positioned herself backwards in the small area available at the head of Sonia's bed. Something bumped across my nose and my nostril was filled, yet again, with the bloody cream. Who's fucking crazy idea was this! "Ready?" asked Sonia. She was like the cowboy responsible for the chute door at a rodeo. Cilla leaned down and took me into her mouth and gave Sonia a very muffled "Uh huh". The scarf was suddenly gone and I blinked my eyes before focussing on Cilla's twat poised in the air above my face. What WAS that? The cream was fairly obvious but it also obscured the object and I had trouble focussing on something that close. When you think bananas you immediately imagine a yellow curve. A straight, skinned banana, covered in whipped cream, that is positioned three centimetres above your nose doesn't quite register as the same thing. Sonia guided Cilla's hips as the object got closer, heading it straight for my mouth. Was I supposed to suck on some dildo? Hey, had they bought a strap on? (A teenage boy does hear some stories you know.) What had my loves been up to without telling poor little me? Okay. They wanted to see me performing mock fellation did they? Well, on with the show then. I opened my mouth and the banana was pushed through my lips. I licked the cream off it and got a taste of the banana as my teeth found it wasn't quite the hard object I had expected. "Oh God! What a pair of deviants. I loved it!" I made sure not to bite off more than I could chew. If my blow job didn't meet their expectations I wouldn't put it past my loves to inflict a bite to some other banana in the room. Sonia was watching Cilla's movements carefully. The banana wasn't sticking out that far but it would have been enough to teach me the practical difficulties of deep throating and Sonia was hoping in turn to avoid the difficulties of a naked male body on her bed with half a banana lodged in his throat. She encouraged Cilla to lift up. "Take a little bite off the end", she instructed me. At least I bloody well hoped Cilla thought she was talking to me! I followed her instructions and chewed rapidly, trying to clear my mouth in case Cilla couldn't hold herself up for too long. I needn't have worried. "Okay dear. You can fuck his face now." Her guiding hands helped Cilla get into a regular rhythm and I found the banana moving in and out of my mouth. I licked around it in a motion I myself enjoyed and got more of the cream with more of my tongue. As Cilla descended I opened wider and poked my tongue out past the fruity phallus to lick up more cream from around her lips. BINGO! With my nose pointed at her rosebud ass, my bottom lip was aligned with her clit and it was easy enough to find that protuberance with my questing tongue. "That broke her rhythm for a second", I thought. If I wanted to make better contact I needed to shorten the banana. Not quite the easiest job with it moving up and down. I waited until Cilla was at the top of a stroke; she wasn't really getting much out of it other than the excitement of the lewd display she was putting on for her friends. I took a small bite and moved it to my cheek. No time to chew now. Up again and the banana lost another chunk; into the other cheek this time. Fruit was meant to be eaten after all. "What happens if it breaks off?" I wondered. "Out with the spoons?" The next time it was in deep I gave it an experimental grab with my lips (teeth might have been dangerous) and was rewarded on the upstroke when I felt it remain a little behind when Cilla moved away from my face. Cilla was taking things slowly at my other end. As she lifted up her hips she moved her whole body forward which allowed her to lick the cream up from the head of my prick down to my balls, and then back again as she descended onto my face yet again. It did feel nice. I had to take a chance. I timed it so that my bite left a small stub sticking out of Cilla's pussy. Long enough to grab again but not enough for Cilla to force into my mouth unless she ground herself hard against me - and that would probably only force the banana deeper inside her. I chewed as fast as I could but it still allowed her another five or six long licking strokes along my "banana" before I managed to swallow the bulk of hers. I finally managed to empty my cheeks. I opened wide and caught the stub with my lips. It came out a little more and on the next stroke I used my teeth to remove it completely. This half tasted different. Instead of the artificial cream overpowering the slightly astringent flavour of green banana, Cilla's pussy had provided a generous coating of a much nicer sauce. I wonder if pussy- flavoured ice-cream would sell well? It was difficult to eat the rest of the banana. Having licked Cilla's juices off of it I wanted nothing more than to put it back from whence it came and then to repeat the process. I did slip it up so that Cilla fucked herself with it a couple of times while I held it between teeth and lips but it was breaking apart in my mouth and I was forced to chew on it after all. Oh well. If I got rid of it I could drink directly from the well instead. I hurried. When Cilla felt me actually eating her instead of the banana spilt (or should that be slit? - good thing Sonia stuck it in that hole; there's another rhyme I didn't want to consider) she decided she had had enough dessert and was ready for the meat dish even if it reversed the normal order of courses. She got the head of my prick between her lips and turned her head slightly so it would slide smoothly into her mouth. Keeping her pussy against my mouth she no longer could rock back and forth so she settled down to have her tongue do the work, assisted by some skilful raising and lowering of the air pressure in her mouth. As she licked I licked, trying to return the excellent sensations she was triggering in my loins. I had been getting increasingly turned on by their antics having gone myself from eating Cilla to Sonia and then back to Cilla (via the banana) and wasn't going to last long. I only hoped Cilla wasn't far off herself. Turns out I was right on both counts. Cilla's orgasm came first and I continued to pay attention to her as she increased her efforts. That did it. I exploded onto her tongue and into her mouth, my back arching a little against Cilla's overbearing weight. She let me out of her mouth and lay there embracing me. I would have liked to have returned the favour but some spiteful bitch had tied me to her bed. (Sorry love. I know it wasn't spite.) Sonia had rewarded my efforts with a kiss and Cilla climbed off me to do the same. Her lips touched mine and I opened for her probing tongue. As mine made contact with the invader I found a surprise. Cilla had held her tongue curled up (celery- wise) around a glob of my cum. She left it behind as she sat up. "Okay love. You gave your first blow job, now we need to know - do you spit or swallow?" They laughed at my predicament. The taste wasn't pleasant after the sweetness of the cream and wouldn't go away even if I spat it out so I put on a brave face and made an obvious show of swallowing, opening my mouth and poking out my tongue in an "all gone" gesture. Cilla laughed again and bent to give me another quick kiss on the lips. "Can you untie me now please?" "We had better. We've probably just got time to clean up before Mum gets back." Cilla undid my feet while Sonia released my hands. Once they were free I grabbed her and pulled her face-down over my body. One sharp slap sounded out. I had deliberately pulled back so it was sound not pain but she still gave a surprised yelp. I rubbed the spot on her ass cheek and pulled her over for a kiss which she returned doubled. "Come on. Let's get cleaned up. I'm definitely sticky and all I can smell is ice-cream and whipped cream." I sat up and Sonia looked at her crumpled bed. It was a good thing she had put the towel down. There was a damp patch where melting ice-cream had been dislodged to run down my side and a small brown stain where a blob of chocolate spread had somehow been dropped. Sonia and Cilla had also both added a creamy mess to the towel where it had been pushed up under my now sticky neck. That towel wasn't going anywhere but the laundry. It got rolled up and Sonia straightened her bed while I followed her instructions to locate the dirty laundry basket. Cilla was getting the shower ready and we joined her from two different directions. It feels decidedly strange walking naked around someone else's house - especially if they could walk through the door at any time. This gave us a sense of urgency as we shared the shower - again with the emphasis on cleanliness rather than more sex play. There was only one towel left and we shared it which got us dry but left it considerably wetter. I dashed down the corridor to drop it in the laundry basket with its mate while Sonia put out fresh towels. Cilla had quickly dressed so she could set things up in the lounge while we dressed and gave us each a quick peck as she passed us on the way out of the bedroom. We had definitely taken too long but as I joined Sonia in her room I turned her around while she was picking up her bra and hugged her to me, I naked and she only clad in her knickers. "Sorry about the slap. I wasn't upset. I really enjoyed myself though I would have loved to have seen what was going on. Keep the pantyhose though - it might be someone else's turn one day." Sonia beamed at me and I let her get on with her dressing while I picked up my clothes. ----- "Sonia! You'll have to be make sure the freezer door is shut properly. This ice-cream is half melted."

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Boy Meets Girl Meets Girl Part: Chapter 20 of 25 Universe: PdV's Boy Meets Girl Meets Girl Summary: A romantic view of the unusual erotic encounters of three older teenagers Keywords: mfF, mf, oral, exhib, voy, rom Language: English Copyright: 2003 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* Cilla, Sonia and I had forged an unlikely and highly erotic three-way relationship. Together with my brother Rick and his girlfriend Renate we were to spend four days camping in idyllic bushlands. During an enjoyable threesome we had been observed by the others without our knowledge and had taken a similar revenge. ********************************************* On our second day camping we had spent several hours climbing to the top of a rocky bluff. The views there had been spectacular, as had those we had observed when Rick and Renate believed themselves alone. ----- We had taken some nibbles with us that had kept the edge off of our appetites and being hot and sweaty we were all more interested in a refreshing dip than a bigger meal. I threw a few sandwiches together while the others took turns at the latrine. It was enough for us to munch on as we returned to the pool by the spring. I quickly took my turn as Rick offered them around and we set off on the short walk, munching as we went. There was no hesitation today, our clothes flew through the air to land jumbled together. The water was still cool but very welcome and we spent quite a while swimming and fooling around. However we also spent a lot more time smooching and half- heartedly groping each other now we were openly lovers. Rick was caught several times as he stared at the sight of Sonia and Cilla sucking on each other's tongues; Renate having to remind him of her presence with a strategically applied pointy elbow. I couldn't fault him, myself. It was a sight that warmed the cockles of my heart or at least stirred my cock and had my heart beating faster. While it was erotic to watch I didn't feel either envious or jealous of their closeness. I knew that either would spend their time with me just as readily and that I wasn't being excluded by their actions. Through the clear water it was possible to see Renate's hand moving over my brother's prick. It seemed the erotic tableau was having an affect on her too. My observations of her behaviour were interrupted when Sonia provided her own underwater display when she ducked under and took me in her mouth. She wrapped her legs around my calves and gripped my ass cheeks to anchor herself while her breath lasted. Breaching the surface briefly with only her face, she would take another breath and dive down to continue her fellatio. Having hyperventilated first, she actually managed to stay down for around two minutes at one stage. Renate watched, with Rick's arms around her and his hands cupping her breasts as her friend repeatedly swallowed my cock (and not a little spring water). It was something she hadn't tried herself yet; nor had she gotten Rick to eat her pussy - something she had seen me do to Sonia when they had spied on us the previous evening. I finally got Sonia to stop. Her efforts had been interesting to say the least and I was about to provide physical evidence of that if she didn't stop. I had heard of a "snow job" where a mouthful of ice cubes gives the blowjob a frosty feel. This was the opposite. Consider a cool mountain spring. You're standing up to your belly button or higher in the water, slowly chilling. Then a warm mouth engulfs your member. The temperature difference Is magnified so that your erect prick is now surrounded by a furnace that tickles and sucks. A trickle of water enters past the pouting lips as they slide back and for the and is swallowed with a gulp that forces your prick against the roof of your lover's mouth as her (or his) tongue spasms. As the air supply begins to run out, the lady in question begins to make some interesting oral manipulations as she tries to increase her stimulation of the organ lodged between her lips before deciding she just HAS to have oxygen. On one occasion you get a literal blow job as bubbles escape in a tickling stream, your lover's lips vibrating against your flesh before she has to replace the lost breath. With the emptying of her lungs, that visit is cut short. At least that was much how I found it. Cilla had been standing next to me, our arms around each other as we looked down on Sonia's head. I gave her, and the others, a blow by blow (please excuse the pun) description of Sonia's activities. This spiked Rick's interest in experiencing it himself which Renate found obvious by the pole which jutted towards her ass. She too was paying close attention to which bits I seemed to particularly appreciate. I lifted Sonia and covered her mouth with mine as she drew a breath. I exhaled and she shared my air. When she exhaled I breathed it back in before letting her freshen her supply. Cilla cuddled us both from the side and we both included her as we stood there. "Than you sweetheart", I kissed Sonia's forehead as she leaned her head against my chest. "Wow", said Rick, "That was amazing. I thought it was wild in the camp this morning but that was nothing." Renate turned to him, "You like the idea then?" "Oh sure babe. What's not to like?" "And what would it be worth?" "You name it!" Rick couldn't believe his luck and was stimulated enough at that moment to sell his soul. "I'll hold you to that. Come back to the beach though. I don't think I can beat Sonia's efforts underwater but I might be able to manage on dry land." Renate realised she was very much the novice but figured Rick wouldn't know the difference at that stage and if she talked up her abilities he might accept them at face value. We followed, Sonia and I curious and Cilla feeling competitive as well. While Renate was a bit self-conscious at having an audience, she found it mildly exciting; Rick didn't care - he was going to get his first blowjob. He found a shady spot on the sand and leaned back against a smooth rock. He wanted a good view of the action! As Renate knelt between his legs, her hands on his thighs, we sat down near them with Sonia leaning her fine breasts against my back and Cilla laying her head on my leg so she had the area of interest at eye level. Renate almost asked for suggestions. She was playing to the crowd as well as wanting to please the youth she loved. The shyness she had felt when first exposing herself to our view had seemed to melt away with her knowledge of our "outrageous" antics; anything she and Rick would get up to would be mild by comparison. She leaned forwards to kiss Rick. She intended this to be a performance to remember if she could possibly manage it. She knew, mainly from gossip, of the speed at which a young man could be expected to explode and she wanted to draw things out. She rested her hands on his shoulders as they kissed and allowed, no - encouraged, him to fumble at her breasts. Rick liked the feel of those firm orbs in his palms but was eager to get to the "main event" and wasn't really concerned with foreplay. To a young man, foreplay means being in the same room. In many cases being on the same planet was enough, at least when visiting Mrs Palm's five daughters. Renate was aware of his impatience; her mild annoyance at his self-centred approach was offset by the warmth she felt for him and the excitement of a public performance. Though he was hardly deprived, she felt his need and wanted to ease it. She backed off a little and then leaned over to trail her tongue down from his chin, over his neck and between the slight mounds on his masculine chest. Pausing to probe his navel she finally came to rest at his dark patch of pubic hair. She stopped and looked her teen lover directly in the eyes. She found a look of pleading; a request, if not from the heart, then from the loins - DON'T STOP NOW! Renate had noticed the pearl glistening on the tip of his rampant cock and, keeping her eyes on his, extended her tongue to touch that droplet. Rick's eyes followed the movement and he stared at his girlfriend's tongue as it lapped over the top of is prick. It twitched at the contact and he let out a sigh. Sometimes the anticipation of an event can be very bit as rewarding as the event itself. Renate considered the taste and decided she liked it. Not realising his pre-cum was sweeter than his semen, and that the tip of her tongue was more sensitive to sweetness, she couldn't understand why she had heard stories on how "nasty" it was. "Perhaps", she thought, "the stories come from those not in a position to know." Her red lips parted and she kissed the knob, taking it into her mouth where she ran her tongue around its thick presence. It was unusual to have something that size in her mouth without biting. She sucked on a straw, a pen, even occasionally a finger or thumb but something as thick as a banana normally meant food. Similarly she realised that while she might flick her tongue across that pen as it was gripped between her teeth, it was a much different, and very novel, experience to work her tongue over the warm flesh currently present in her mouth. She didn't suck yet nor try to take more into her mouth. She wasn't sure how much she could contain in that orifice and was waiting to see what response resulted from her various actions. She gave a slow lick along one side and then used the back of her tongue to caress the other; she flicked her tongue back and forth rapidly (in the fashion she had recently found produced very pleasant sensations when applied to her nipples); she even tried pushing her tongue very firmly against the slit she could feel in the very front of his cock head. Rick couldn't really distinguish between her actions. One pleasant sensation followed another and each seemed as good as or better than the last. He rested one hand gently on the back of her head as the other caressed her cheek. Cilla had reached between my legs to hold my balls as she watched our friends' slow progress. This was a welcome addition to Sonia's hands as they gently tickled my nipples. Rick wasn't the only one whose "manhood" (what a ridiculous term!) poked skywards. "Suck on it", encouraged Cilla. Without taking any more of the delicious cock into her mouth, Renate began to suckle on the oversized nipple. We could see the pulsing dimples in her cheeks ass she sucked and relaxed. Rick pressed gently on her head as he lifted his hips. This was too, too lovely but his instincts were to push deeper. Renate slid her mouth down in compliance and the young man's prick grazed both the roof of her mouth and the base of her tongue. Rick relaxed his hips and his cock slipped back out a little; he repeated the motion, sliding in and out of his girlfriend's wet mouth as she continued in turn to both suck and lick his twitching organ. "That's it girl!" Cilla, the expert, was giving unrequested encouragement. "Up and down. Fuck him with your mouth. Make him come!" She moved her hand from my balls to my prick and practised what she preached. Her view of Renate was spoiled a little, it was hard to move her own mouth up and down while twisted sideways enough to see so she developed a simple method - up and down a couple of times then turn sideways and lick around just the head while watching the "competition"; repeat. Sonia in the meantime was crushing me back against her. From her size one wouldn't expect a powerful bear hug but that's what I got. At the same time she took delight in inflicting occasional painful quick pinches as she stroked my nipples between thumb and forefinger. I think she liked to feel me jerk in response in her arms. While it did hurt, it seemed to make the gentleness of her subsequent caresses all the more sensuous. Renate had heard Cilla's instructions but it was more Rick's whispered "Yes! Please" that spurred her on. She began bobbing and Rick's pelvic thrusts subsided as her motion rendered his redundant. It also made Rick realise that he couldn't last much longer. Should he warn Renate? If he did, would she stop? Concern for how she would feel if he unexpectedly came in her mouth warred with a need for the sensations to continue until they brought relief. He left his decision too long or perhaps simply let the lack of a decision to act in either direction be his decision. Renate felt him stiffen but still lacked the experience to work out when to back off. Her delight at getting Rick off was short lived as she tasted his semen. It swirled around the turgid meaty rod occupying her mouth and coated her tongue, the insides of her cheeks and the roof of her mouth. She released his prick and hawked then spat the milky fluid to the ground as his eruptions subsided and the final seepages oozed out over the still puking cock head. "Are you all right?" NOW he was concerned! Renate spat again as she tried to clear the taste from her mouth. It was certainly different from his pre-cum. She apologised in her mind to the others whose experience she had doubted. Rick pulled her to him as she recovered. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise until it was too late to warn you. Thank you though. It was wonderful. I've never felt anything like that before." He guiltily cuddled her and Renate nestled into his arms, only then realising that Cilla was busy next to them. She watched with interest. "What differences in technique are possible?" she wondered. With the competing show over, Cilla concentrated on me. Sonia too decided to have a bit more fun and got me to lay back onto the warm sand where she had been sitting. As Cilla moved her head up and down as she lay beside and across my thighs, Sonia knelt across my face and used her fingers to open the pussy lips that descended directly onto my mouth. Fortunately her pussy was free of the sandy grit I felt on her thighs as they brushed against my cheeks. She was wet, and not from our swim. She was also tasty and I let her know just how much I enjoyed her. Sonia leaned forwards slightly, her hands framing Cilla's head as she rested them on my hips. Her own hips rocked gently back and forth giving my tongue a wider coverage. She caressed the back of our lover's head as she watched the second demonstration of fellatio. I was probably as excited as Rick had been but had learned a couple of ways of holding back (not always successful) and Cilla had learned how to pace herself to make me last longer while still subjecting me to constant stimulation. While her head was bobbing, she avoided touching me with anything but her lips and that as the merest contact, the gentlest meeting of surface against surface, her saliva providing the necessary lubrication to minimise friction. I've heard of being tickled with feathers. It must have been a little like that without the humour. The effect was deadly serious but was pleasant without being exciting if you understand. I could let it go on forever. Cilla had other ideas however. As she felt me calm down she started to make me climb back up the emotional mountain again. Firstly her lips made firmer contact. Her mouth moved back and forth, massaging my cock in a most interesting way. Then her tongue arrived back on the scene. Until I felt the long strokes I hadn't realised its absence; the other feelings had been too nice. Then she started sucking. This closed her mouth tightly around my cock. Her cheeks indented and jaw rigid, my cock was sliding over her tongue and rubbing the roof of her mouth. In her enthusiasm she engulfed more and more until the contact of my prick with the back of her mouth started to make her gag. She quickly eased off. I knew of "deep throat", the movie was a classic, but Cilla wasn't capable of such a feat. I dreamed of the idea as she continued her actions and Sonia fed me from her body. I was getting a little greedy. Perhaps. Rick and Renate were spellbound. This was the same tableau they had spied upon. (Was it only the previous night?) But then we had been concealed by the shadows cast in the moonlight. Now everyone and everything was clearly visible. Rick hadn't even subsided before his prick was engorged with blood again and pushed itself against the naked girl in his arms. He looked away from us and at her but her own eyes seemed glued to the action in front of them. He returned his attention to the three of us. Sonia was a real exhibitionist and, under her influence, Cilla's and my own tendencies in that direction seemed to have blossomed. She was getting heated; she loved me eating her pussy almost as much as she loved Cilla eating it. (Cilla's long tongue can reach places mine can't so I have to rely on my skill, if I do say so myself.) Sonia was also extremely excited by the knowledge that her best friend (at least until Cilla and I came along - and that's different) was watching her and her lovers in action. Her mischievous mind decided to try to shock them a bit more. She tapped on Cilla's head and issued a one word query, "Roulette?" Cilla released me long enough to say, "Okay!" With a final bob of her head she got up and knelt to one side. Sonia took over and bobbed her own head down and up then "passed" me back to Cilla. The other couple watched my double blowjob in amazement. The aim was for each girl to try and stimulate me enough for me to come when the other girl again took me into her mouth - winner take all and no cheating! We had "played" it once before and Sonia, who didn't enjoy a mouthful of semen any more than Renate apparently did, "won" and had the good sports(wo)manship to follow the rules to the end. She had to - she made them up! From my point of view it was a "Win-Win" situation. Both of them TRYING to make me come! This time they exchanged me back and forth only about four times (I wasn't really counting - my mind was on other things) before I started coming. It was Cilla who felt the surge hit the back of her mouth and she moved her head down to simplify the passage of my semen from balls to stomach. With Sonia deciding to celebrate her "loss" with a bit more face-fucking I found myself being syphoned at one end and drowned at the other. I sucked Sonia's vulva inside my mouth, her long lips parted by my tongue as it quested for her clit. I wrapped my arms around her legs to hold her in place so she couldn't escape when the sensations became too much. She wanted to put on a show? I'd make her orgasm one to remember. I had been a bit distracted before but now I could concentrate on one thing. I didn't notice Cilla cleaning me up though Renate certainly did until Sonia distracted her when she started gasping as wave after wave hit her. She tried to get me to release her, pulling at my hands as they held her pussy to my face. I didn't have much time as my access to fresh air had been cut off so I wanted to push her up and over before I had to give in myself. I was successful; the fleshy earmuffs formed by her thighs didn't block the whimpers that preceded a tremendous shudder and then the slumping that informed me I had, once again, managed to excite my little lover enough to make her pass out. Her head came slowly down next to Cilla's (I still had hold on her legs so she couldn't fall far) and Cilla moved to roll her off me. She kissed Sonia's lips gently and was rewarded with a flutter of the fainted girl's eyelids as the prone position allowed the blood to return to her head. "Sleeping Beauty woken with a kiss. Hmm, shouldn't it be PRINCE Charming?", I teased them. Sonia drew Cilla down for a firmer kiss, ignoring the slight spermy aftertaste. "I'm happy with Princess Absolutely Gorgeous, thank you." That didn't stop her giving me a big kiss too. Cilla followed that with a loving pash. Renate looked at Sonia, somewhat disconcerted by our apparent lack of concern. "Do you do that often?" Sonia looked at her. "What? Fuck face, play blowjob roulette or come so hard I pass out?" "The latter I suppose but don't let me stop you explaining about the others", Renate grinned. Cilla and I snuggled down against our love and both started suckling on her tiny tits as she tried to reply. "It's happened a couple of times. It's no longer scary and only happens if I'm sitting or standing when I come, and then only if it is a major come. It's worth it! Will you two behave!" We ignored her and continued to stimulate her breasts. Sonia had got over one orgasm and, while not against experiencing a second, wasn't enthusiastic about it. However she also wasn't over-sensitised and found her body gradually warming to the idea. As her hands pressed our heads into her chest we realised she had capitulated. Cilla moved down between her legs for her own little cunt lapping session. This was something Rick and Renate HADN'T seen! Rick found the girl-girl action exciting while Renate was excited by finding out just how different her friend was to what she had expected. "How could Sonia have kept this a secret from me for so long?" she asked herself. "That looks like fun", she hinted to Rick. He couldn't let the opportunity to pass. "Well why don't you ask? They look friendly." "Oh you fool! Come and eat me!" She lay on her back and invitingly bent her knees up to open her pussy to his view and for ease of access. Rick had hoped to watch a little longer, the opportunity may not arise again after all, but then figured if he didn't show HIS appreciation for the blowjob THAT might not happen again and that was something not to be contemplated. Renate wasn't quite as selfless - she made sure she could still see our threesome in action as Rick moved into position and came face to face with her bare pussy lips. He bent down and kissed her at the base of her trimmed pubes. Renate found her attention drawn away from the show and down between her legs. Nice! Oh yes, very nice! Rick was tentatively probing with his tongue as he sprinkled light kisses over the top of her thighs and along her slit. When Renate showed signs of enjoying a particular action he was encouraged to repeat it, experimenting a little until he finally managed to sink his tongue into a damp spot and found it suddenly flooded. Renate's juices had been building and his tongue had separated the lips that dammed them inside her vagina. It was delicious and he sucked and lapped trying to swallow all of his love's sweet nectar. Though Sonia was enjoying being eaten, and liked seeing her friend's first experience of cunnilingus, she felt she wanted a "little" change. "Cilla. Will you turn around and let me eat you please?" Cilla was agreeable and squirmed around, ending up with her head near Rick's feet and her hips next to his head. He briefly looked over at the tufts of red hair just visible over her thighs before concentrating on Renate again. I raised my eyebrows and waited for an indication of Sonia's desires. It wasn't a long wait. "Kneel behind me and fuck me hard!" That put me right next to Renate's head. She would have a close-up of Sonia's pussy as I plunged into her from behind. Sonia HAD to know what the view would be from her friend's position - the minx! By now I didn't care. They had seen us and we had seen them. We weren't interested in our groups interacting further (at least I wasn't - who knows about the others?) I loved Sonia and Cilla; Renate was interesting to look at but that didn't make me want her, and as for Rick! Sorry, not my scene. I knelt behind Sonia and gave Renate a clear view of my thumb penetrating Sonia's cunt as I spread her juices before trying to enter her. It wasn't necessary, she was that damp. Still it must have helped Renate somewhat as her moans didn't quite coincide with Rick's efforts. I moved closer and my prick slid in. Images of hot knives through butter might be a cliche but the image was appropriate. Sonia's juices flowed down her legs like melted butter and my "knife" met no resistance as I glided in and out. Sonia had asked for "hard" and I aimed to please. This didn't mean she wanted me to hurt her but rather that she was already aroused and simply wanted to be fucked rather than the slower activity "making love" implied. Gripping past her small hips I nearly encircled her waist. My thumbs almost touched over her spine while my fingers just missed her navel. This gave me a good grip to pull her hips back towards me as I thrust deeply inside her. I must have bottomed out the first couple of times as she flinched and gave a cry, muffled by Cilla's pussy, that indicated her pleasure was being interrupted by my painful collision with her cervix. I eased off a little, still ramming my cock head through the first part of her wet tunnel but slowing before I caused further pain. Sonia noticed the difference and was able to concentrate on the wet fragrant pussy in front of her. As I thrust and pulled at her she found her face being jerked around and through the tasty patch of furred flesh. To overcome this she latched onto her mate, clamping Cilla's legs against the sides of her head as she wrapped her arms tightly around the sensuous limbs. With a bit of adjustment as her body was still being jolted by my thrusts she managed to get into an optimal position. Initially I had been able to kneel there relatively still sliding Sonia back and forth over my cock. Now, with Cilla's weight added to hers, the situation was reversed and Renate was able to see my buttocks dimple as I moved in and out of my loved one. It wasn't long for any of us. Poor Rick! He was the only one who didn't come with a bang, though I'm sure Renate would make it up to him (if her earlier efforts weren't reward enough). While I must admit my introduction to sex had been far from "normal", I don't think Rick and Renate found their first experiences anything like they had expected either. It's a long way from a fumbled grope and a little tongue tussling to losing your cherry and then being involved in a group session within the same day. We at least had worked up to this level of "iniquity" by a slower series of steps, if not over a much longer period. We eventually separated from our collapsed huddles and crawled into slightly deeper water to rinse our bodies. There was a slight air of embarrassment now the passion had ebbed although it was somewhat muted by the knowledge that we three were unashamedly "out", at least to our companions. There were now three (probably four, knowing Uncle Frank's openness with his young wife) who knew about us and quite a few more who wondered. I contemplated how long it would remain a secret, how we could possibly eventually reveal all and what the likely consequences would be. We liked to think we were grown up but the potential scenes all brought a shiver to my 17 year old sine. The others simply thought I was cold. ----- All holidays must come to an end but it was a different, and somewhat sorer, group that sat together on the way back. Rick and Renate had put a sizable dent in the condom supply and Renate noticeably spread her legs when she walked to the car. I couldn't help smiling. We checked out with the Park Ranger who looked more than a little relieved that we had survived unscathed with Cilla at 18 as our only "responsible" adult supervision. With his call "Bye. See you again." behind us, we departed. The drive out of the mountains was slow, due to the winding nature of the narrow roads, and noisy, due to the chattered reminiscing of events that had occurred during our stay. This led to other, perhaps more private, memories being disclosed when Sonia tried to tease Cilla. "Perhaps you'll get a chance to entertain another truck driver." Cilla wasn't to be baited however. "It might be Renate's turn this time." "What?" Both Renate and Rick wanted to know what they meant and Sonia and Cilla shared the telling of the story of Cilla's initially accidental display to a passing truck and the subsequent show Sonia had intentionally provided with her once they knew they were being watched. Though Renate had found herself on display in a range of situations she would have thought impossible only days earlier, she wasn't sure she would ever be ready for a more public display. Momma and Pop wouldn't be pleased if they knew what she'd been up to but the consequences of being picked up by the police for some public activity would have them almost literally killing her. Still, since the topic had turned to sex and she was trying hard to destroy the somewhat prudish image she had at the start of the trip, she wasn't against providing a more private display. She reached down to Rick's lap and caressed his prick through his pants. "Oh! Did you like their story? I can tell you did so don't deny it." She rubbed the erection. "Should I do something about it?" "Mmm", he replied, "Yes please." Sonia, sitting on the opposite side of the back seat from Rick, watched Renate slowly unzip his pants before extracting, with some difficulty, his turgid member. Cilla had turned in her seat and lay her arm over the back as she too watched. Sonia took her hand and they paid attention to the unfolding scene while I had to concentrate on the last of the curves before I was able to look out over the foothills and across the plains. They were missing the view; or I was. Renate stroked a couple of times and then leaned over to suck her lover's prick. The position was a little cramped so that, while she could take him in her mouth, she couldn't stay that way long enough to accomplish anything. "Damn." She sat up. "This is no good." "Why don't you swap places with Sonia?" suggested Cilla. "What?", queried the mischievous Sonia. "You want me to blow Rick?" "No. Let Renate lean across you." Being the smaller of the two, Sonia stood slightly while Renate scooted over then she sat down on Renate's lap before sliding into the now empty middle seat. She looked down at the naked penis standing up proudly beside her. Remarkably she restrained herself and behaved for once, not even making a smart comment. Renate knelt up on the seat and leaned across her friend to reach her lover again. That was better. Sonia found herself with a front row seat, watching her friend's fellatio exhibition close up; at the same time Renate's breasts, unconstrained by a bra under her cotton t-shirt, were snuggled between Sonia's thighs. She parted her legs slightly and then brought them back together, gently massaging the fleshy pendulums. "Yes" murmured Renate past Rick's prick. He didn't understand but Sonia did. She hadn't intended to "stray" outside our threesome and, indeed, didn't really view it that way now. In a group setting, and considering the activities over the last few days, mixing between the two groups had been almost the only thing that hadn't occurred. She lifted an arm and extended it to Cilla over Renate's back. Cilla took her hand and they rested them on the base of Renate's spine. Sonia nodded at Cilla and gave a jerk of her head to direct Cilla's gaze towards Sonia's legs. Cilla followed the look and saw the rhythmic oscillation of her mate's knees as she massaged the third girl's breasts. "Oh ho!" she thought. Sonia moved Cilla's hand further down Renate's back. There wasn't much further back to go. Renate had worn a short skirt for the return trip. Fashionable, comfortable and convenient if access should somehow be required. She felt the position of the hands change but didn't pay it much attention, concentrating as she did on Rick's pleasure. She enjoyed the gentle pressure Sonia was putting on her breasts though, without any nipple stimulation it was just pleasure, not passion. She was rather surprised then when she felt her ass cheeks being firmly massaged by not one but two hands. Rick had one lightly resting on her and another between her shoulder blades so it wasn't (not that she suspected it) him. She wasn't a lesbian - no way! - but these were just hands and how was a hand male or female? Besides, it felt nice and more than a little stimulating. Rick noticed how she started making more of an effort and looked down her back to where two arms disappeared behind Renate's rump. Cilla grinned at him. The girls had been gently kneading Renate's gluteus maximus through the soft cotton knickers; G-strings were NOT the best thing to wear under short skirts on car seats for a long drive. They got bolder as they didn't get any adverse signs from Renate, and now from Rick. Cilla had a more restricted range so concentrated on gently poking Renate's ass through the thin cloth. Sonia moved her hand further south and felt the dampness seeping into the fabric. Initially she rubbed her fingertips over her friend's pussy through the ever- dampening gusset but then decided to take the plunge, literally, and slid a thumb under the side of the knickers to move the fabric out of the way before pushing it deep into the well lubricated hole. Cilla could see the digit disappear and stretched over the back of the car seat to touch the back of her lover's hand. I don't consider this a betrayal of our love, just an extension of their exhibitionistic natures. They may have toyed with Renate but there was no desire to take her, or Rick, into our pact, nor were they seeking reciprocal attention as Sonia politely pointed out to Rick when he indicated he could hold her breast if she liked. Renate, right at that moment, wasn't concerned with Rick's offer to Sonia. She had a firm prick in her mouth, a thumb in her cunt, a finger over her clit and another poised against her rosebud; not forgetting those delightful thighs which continued to massage her breasts. It was too much yet at the same time not enough. She waggled her ass from side to side and the other girls disengaged; they hoped they hadn't gone too far. Renate sat back up and asked Sonia to move back into her old place. Rick was a little dismayed that everything seemed to be over. That is until Renate, resuming the middle seat, told him to put a condom on. He fumbled for his wallet and removed a small packet which Renate grabbed and tore open with her teeth. She was on the boil and didn't want to get cold again. She unrolled it over the swaying prick as Rick put his wallet away then moved over and sat on his lap. With one leg each twisted sideways there was just enough room behind the driver's seat. "Sorry", Renate apologised as her knee pressed through the seat into my back. I slid the seat a little forward to help them out though it wasn't that clear to me just what was going on. Renate stood slightly, reached between her legs to position the penis past the side of her knickers and sat, engulfing it in her hot twat. Cilla and Sonia, holding hands again, were grinning. Their friend had turned into a real sex pot; she was so hot she had to have it as though she hadn't been having sex up to five times a day over the last three days. Sonia lent forward and Cilla met her lips for a passionate kiss. Renate wasn't the only one who never seemed to get enough! I had been using the interior mirror from time to time to try and follow the proceedings but had missed most of the exploits, only to find out some time later when it was just the three of us again. I did realise what was happening now and the motions and sounds was having its effect on me; especially with Renate leaning forward next to my ear most of the time. Cilla let her eyes roam away from the fucking pair for a while and noticed the bulge in my lap. She looked out the windscreen and decided the road ahead was safe enough. "Drive carefully", she said as she unzipped me and pulled out my prick before swallowing it (almost whole) in a single hot wet plunge. Her tongue worked overtime and her head bobbed madly. She wasn't trying to be subtle or slow. This was a simple "wham, bam, thank you ma'am, here's the money" blow job; a rush of excitement (for both of us - me in the getting and Cilla in the knowledge I could be "got") before I had to concentrate on my driving. Renate was still positioned beside my ear and got a bird's-eye view of Cilla's head bouncing around. I did slow the car a little bit but managed to beat Rick, even with his head (no pun intended) start, by quite a way. Cilla had finished cleaning up and had tucked me back in while Renate was still banging the back of my chair. It had been stimulating before, now I wished they would just hurry up. Isn't it amazing how your feelings can change after you come! I wasn't quite mean-spirited enough to complain though the car just happened to swerve back and forth across the lane a couple of (okay 6) times - What! You didn't see the road kill I was avoiding? Sorry! Regardless of the cause, the added sideways rocking didn't seem to go astray and Renate actually thanked me later! Rick gasped quite loudly from behind me and Renate came soon after, resting her forehead on my shoulder for a few seconds as she composed herself. She leaned back and, after getting an awkward kiss from Rick, almost fell sideways trying to extricate herself from his lap while the car was moving. Sonia steadied her and Renate gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "Thank you." Sonia understood. Applause would have been anticlimactic but they both deserved some recognition. They had put on a good show for (some of) us even if there was no truck driver handy; maybe one day? I held Cilla's hand for a while and later Sonia's when they swapped places. I wasn't nasty to Rick this time - let him sit with his love, I had mine - doubled. It had been a good holiday.

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Afterlife Part: Chapter 6 of 6 Universe: Vixen Circle Summary: A traffic accident gives a man a chance to put matters to right. Keywords: MF, MFF, FF, rom, oral, exhib Language: English Copyright: 2010 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* Gavin and Jack were at the breakfast table when I wandered out. I put my hand on Gavin's shoulder and kissed the side of his head. Jack looked surprised. "Well! That's a change," said Gavin. "You haven't done that for a while." "What? We kissed last night when I arrived." "Yes - because I initiated it. You haven't kissed me first for ages." "I'm sorry, and I'm sorry if that seemed hurtful. I can't explain it." I was truly surprised. I thought from what Sue had told me that I hadn't been totally different over the years. Certainly not enough to have driven her away at least. My memories were coming back but the most recent at first and without a useful emotional colouration. I knew that I did certain things and sometimes in enough detail to recall snatches of conversation but I couldn't tell if the actor in the scene was genuinely involved of whether the feelings I observed were a faade. "At least I didn't have to worry you might steal him away from me," chipped in Jack. "I don't think Sue would look favourably on that either. I can remember being friends with Gavin since he first brought me some comics in Hospital when we were seven but though I love him I can't be his lover." "I know," Gavin put his hand on mine. "I worked that out long ago even if I didn't stop hoping. I could kiss the girls and fool around but that was all it was, fooling around. You related to them far more closely even if you could fool around with us guys as well. What I couldn't understand was how you knew about me even before I did and put up with me when others would have beaten me up. "That is how I realised you were the best friend I could hope for. Setting us up here has only proven that. A little kiss here or there wasn't important. Please don't worry about it." "Obviously it is important and to me as well as you. When the others get up I'll try to explain." --- "As you know I seem to have a weakness for getting myself into trouble from time to time. Occasionally this has had a surprising effect on my life. "A month ago I slipped and fell heavily, knocking myself out. When I came to it was as though I'd gone from the party where I had my head kicked in to today - without any time between. I'd spent almost five years with you and others and I couldn't recall a thing." I waved down the expressions of sympathy. "My memories are drifting back. I can remember your wedding Sam and Gavin and the interesting reception. You changed your vows subtly but enough that those of use who knew could read the promises were directed to someone else. With much of what happened before that still a blur I have to say that for me today it was probably one of the most precious memories I could have recovered. "I do have the odd one or two earlier memories - mainly due to Sue telling me things which trigger a cascade of memories. As for the others, I'll have to ask you to be patient. This isn't the first time I have had this problem and my memory settled that time so I expect I'll be okay." "Sounds rather scary. When has it happened before?" I looked at Gavin. "When you and Sam and I first linked up. The day Harry Powell ended up in the dirt the first time." "What? Did he injure you then? You never said anything about it." "Things were easier. I was showing you how to defend yourselves and we were too busy for a while. By the time it mattered I could remember what I needed to." "You know, if you'd asked me I would have said it was when Harry's big brother hit the dirt. You were more out of things after that than anything I can recall earlier." "I had lost some memories then, it's true, but those were memories of my future not my past - or rather a different past that lay in the future." "You're not a pot head, are you Albert? 'Cause it sure sounds like you've been tripping on something though you've always seemed clean." "No Jack. I only tried pot once and that was in 1981 I think. I didn't..." "*WHEN* did you say!?" "1981," Sam answered, waving Jack to be quiet. "Let him explain." "You go along with this crazy talk?" "I have reasons to. Please continue Albert." "Well I was just going to say I didn't really find it all that big a deal. Might just have been my mood at the time, I don't know, but I never bothered again. Alcohol was cheaper and didn't get you busted. Well not for just having it normally." "So what's the story then? You invent a time machine or something?" I considered Gavin's question and answered seriously. "Or something." There was some conversational mayhem for a second until Gavin, Jack and Julieanne realised Sue and Sam were sitting quietly, waiting for the turmoil to die down. "Are you to in on this?" Gavin asked. "Not in the sense you probably mean. We have had similar conversations before so we aren't surprised." "Just for a second, assume I believe you. Why didn't you tell me before this?" Sam wiggled her fingers. It was like the kid in class, eager to be picked on when they actually knew one of the answers. "Albert only told me a little while before he got his head kicked in and I hadn't gotten around to believing him." "You seemed to last night." "Sue told me he was back." "And that's all it took! I'm sorry Albert, I've heard of these gurus or Maha-what-sits who come over and gather all their disciples together and make a fortune. This sounds so much like the Cult of Albert." "Does that make you my Doubting Gavin? Sorry, no holes to stick your hands in - well one but we won't go there." "Gay jokes?" "You wouldn't believe how many I've heard in my life and most of them told by gay comedians. Don't get defensive on those grounds Gavin. I can tease but I'll never be intentionally hurtful, I hope." "So you're not the Messiah but I'm still your Thomas?" "I'm not the Messiah, I'm just a very naughty boy. Sorry, my Python got the better of me." "Your what?" "A quote, or rather a misquote. It doesn't matter. What I want to say is that I am, to the best of my knowledge and despite the facts, nothing special. At least I don't feel special. Okay! Cutting through the bullshit! I lived a life of regret after doing some hateful things and on what I think was my deathbed I was given a chance to go back and put things right. Surely there's been one or two corny movies made? Has 'Heaven can wait' come out yet?" "So an angel sent you back in time!?" "No. I just arrived. I don't have any answers, just more questions. I didn't have a why or a what so I worked out one of my own." "Which is?" "To avoid the mistakes I made the first time around by caring for my friends instead of abandoning them. *I'M* not the Messiah. I'm Peter denying his love three times. I'm Judas selling his soul. I'm Pilate washing my hands of any involvement in the injustices of others. "In my past life I hurt you Gavin, you who was my closest friend. I hurt Sam by my encouragement of those who attacked her. I couldn't apologise and ask your forgiveness; that was another life away. All I could do was return the love you'd shown me then - and again - and try to change the world you lived in just enough to keep you both save this time. I hope that I succeeded." "You did pretty good love." Sue moved behind me and slipped her arms around my neck. "You've got my vote too." Sam sat on my lap and slipped her arms around my body. "Is there any loco-weed on this property?" asked Jack. "And does it work on people?" Gavin had been thinking. "I'm not sure. I think I might have been chewing on some myself." "What! You believe him?" "N-o-o, but there are things, odd things, unexplained things that you weren't there to experience. I was Albert's nearly constant companion from, what did you say we were, seven? We grew up together maybe fifty weeks of every year. When we weren't together we told each other what we'd been doing the rest of the time." "And, so?" "When we were fifteen, Albert ran self-defence classes disguised as a Judo interest group at school. He not only knew enough Judo to get us started, he knew enough ways to deal with bullies and perverts that Sam here managed to take care of one particular bully after only a couple of weeks." "Three if I recall correctly," agreed Samantha. "But not only that; when a proper Judo instructor - sorry Albert, you know what I mean." "Phillip is my Sensei now," I acknowledged. "Anyway this sensei came to visit and put Albert through his paces. Albert wasn't as skilled as this guy but we'd expected that. He impressed the sensei though; enough that, after Albert lost most of his ability to train us, he helped find a good coach who worked with us voluntarily." "Tell him about Sam and the Sensei," I gloated. She had been a marvel. "Let's see. One of the other girls - oh that's right, it was Carole - Carole flipped this sensei with an advanced throw he totally wasn't expecting and then when Sam came up to show how she would defend herself against a knife attack she stripped down to her underwear and whomped him good while he was distracted by her - charms." "Exaggeration!" muttered Sam. "That was all very interesting and certainly unusual but what was the point? Sorry, I might have missed it." "Jack, in the seven or eight years that I'd known Albert he had made no mention of Judo. No interest, no 'Hey my uncle showed me something neat'." Gavin looked directly at me. "I might have kept quiet but I wasn't stupid. *I* was learning to keep my secrets - you think I was going to blab about you?" "Thank you Gavin. You always were a better friend than I deserved." "And then the Vixen Circle!" he continued. "Albert could make girls go weak at the knees just talking to them. I saw it happen. He made them come just with his kisses. If you want to start a cult, *THAT'S* how you should do it. Hell he made me weak at the knees watching him make the girls come. "What fifteen year old knows not the physical things to do to a girl but the *PSYCHOLOGICAL* things to get them to want to let him do them. And not only that, to want to have other girls do it to them and to do it to other girls? You ladies can answer this. Didn't he make you feel special, that he cared for you personally? I know that's how I felt and I might have only got a couple of kisses and a hug from him." "Yes," answered Sam. "He still does," added Sue amidst the other Vixen's agreements. I was surprised when Julieanne nodded her own assent. "We...?" "You're the only boy who has screwed me. You don't remember? That's sad. You were *VERY* good and you promised when I was ready you'd be the father of my first baby - au natural!" I looked at Sam and then Jack - he was Julieanne's husband after all. He shrugged. "It's only on paper - I'm a one man guy." Belatedly I looked at Sue. How was she taking this? "Oh I know Honey. I was there when you promised. If you get your memory of Julieanne back you'll see. Sam and I were both there at the time and we expect to be when you fulfil your promise." It was time for the surprises to come my way so I couldn't complain. "Listening to you talk so matter-of-factly about the whole thing makes me almost believe. Sam, you said you didn't believe Albert when he told you. What made you change your mind?" Sam shifted in her place before answering Gavin. "Things he told me before he was injured started coming true. I met Julieanne and fell in love. His warning over the problems we might face in an unloving world meant we were more careful and Julieanne joined the Vixens and made a lot of friends. We didn't need to come out before the school and, as you know, you and later Jack provided us with the social cover away from the Vixens. "Albert and I had had a fight as well - I'd gotten cross with him. I though at first he was less my friend and more interested in appeasing his guilt from his first life. That made me realise I did believe him. Julieanne had provided the proof." "Religion, then science," I complained quietly. "After Albert was attacked he was less than he had been but still more than many of the other boys we knew. He retained his achievements but couldn't add to them any more than any other guy of his age. Fortunately he'd started the ball rolling and we girls knew how to keep the momentum up so that even the boys who weren't actually Vixens gained from our heightened expectations and the casual suggestions of the boys who were." She was explaining more to Jack than to Gavin who had been there. "When one guy is getting successful with one girl after another he becomes a font of knowledge. Before the jocks had been fond of telling how they had gotten some cheerleader to suck their cock; now they were hearing about the joys of eating pussy and how to treat a clitoris gently without any actual names being mentioned. They pussy-whipped themselves because being attentive to our needs paid dividends and a guy who wasn't, or who blabbed of his success - or worse lied about his failure - found our little network froze him out. "Albert's introduction to kissing grew into the most sexually liberated campus around and the only one to have no teenage pregnancies amongst its student body in our class and in the classes that have followed us. That's seven years of girls and boys more active and more responsible. There has also been a growth in the Judo class such that the school is the mentor for other schools wanting to add to their 'Excellence in Sport' programs. "Every school could use an Albert, but it was the old Albert, the one who became my close friend, who was responsible. His successor was good at doing as Julieanne indicated but he wasn't the driving force he had been. "When I talk to the Albert here and now he *IS* that person." Sam turned to address me. "You know, you and Gavin are the only two men I've made love to. I think it's time that this you becomes the third if you're willing." "I do love you Sam but I'm with Sue now..." Sue's look told me I didn't know everything. "I think I can lend you this once. Perhaps it's not me who needs to give you permission though." "Now *I'M* inclined to believe his story!" The others found Jack humorous. I looked at Julieanne. "Oh, I've already said she can go for it. It's not as if you are going to knock her up anyway." Gavin added his permission. "And don't worry about me, I'm only the bloody husband." I hadn't even thought to approach Gavin. No-one was in any rush to get away from the breakfast table though I did get Sam to shift off of my lap and breakfast had turned into morning tea by the time when Sue suggested she show me round my own property. "Don't go too far. You know we've got plans for the afternoon." "Plans?" I asked. Sue led me away. "It's a surprise." --- Cowboy movies often portray the West as desert or marginal grazing land but that suits their scripts. We looked out from a rise at some beautiful greenery - admittedly irrigated in the dryness of summer - and an area of productive grazing and cropping farmland. We share-cropped with a neighbour then took the hay and fed the animals on the stubble and on specially sewn feed crops. Gavin and Jack had found an interest in animal husbandry while Sam and Julieanne managed the business as well as acting as housekeepers and cooks for their husbands and my parents. I returned to the ranch house remembering more than I'd set out knowing and I was able to tell Sue about some of the features we passed on the way back. --- Sam collected me from Sue and asked if I would accompany her to the guest houses. These were four semi-detached units; each with a lounge, a bedroom, a bathroom and a kitchenette - much like a motel room. She ushered me into one and closed the door behind me. There was no, "Are you okay with this?" Sam knew I was her friend and that I loved her. And that I had apparently been her lover at least on one occasion previously - damn my memory! Those who mattered had given their blessings and if for some reason I felt I couldn't go through with it, Sam knew I would explain sincerely and sensitively. I hadn't expected any approach before tonight and had really thought she had some small job for me. Was I getting senile? Certainly not senile enough to say "No" when she put her arms around my neck and kissed me. Was this the real reason I hadn't proposed to Sue? That I liked the chance of sex with someone else too much to tie myself to one woman? Without *MY* influence, was my "younger" self more like I had been at his age? I certainly hoped not. The indications I had been given was that I'd continued much as I had been but with only a shadow of the possibility I had presented. I loved Sue and I, knowing what a future without a soul- mate would be like, wanted her beside me but was that just the fear of being alone? I loved Samantha too but had never seen her sharing my house and my bed over the years though I had looked forward to hearing her voice regularly and holding her to me occasionally as we aged. Holding her to me now was far different than ever before though. "Sam, I know you want me to make love to you, but is this safe?" She laughed. "I thought you were the man with *ALL* the answers!" "I got lazy. In twenty years there is this thing called the Internet. Think of it like a library and a movie theatre and a post office all in your TV set. You can get almost any question answered and the answer is often correct, but you don't bother remembering it because you can always look it up again. Anyway, pregnancy isn't something I had to deal with personally and I don't recall having researched it." "Well I'm only seven months along so I'm in no immediate danger. Of course, you might be - I could fall on you." "I'd just have to wait until you got comfortable on top of me then." "I'd be more comfortable if you get rid of some of these clothes." I was taught to respect my mother, and by extension any mother which, to my mind, includes mothers-to-be. If Sam wanted bare flesh then bare flesh it would be. "Leave that please. They are so big now my back aches if I let them hang free - especially if I'm likely to make them sway around." Okay, leave the bra! At first I thought Sam had been wearing pantyhose with a seam running up the centre of her belly but found her body had developed a creative streak as the life inside her had grown. Her belly button looked more like a buzzer by a door and what looked like a cellulite line run from the middle of her pubes up over the swollen curve to her sternum. Naked except for the plain beige maternity bra, I found her one of the most beautiful sights I had witnessed. Sam proceeded to strip me off next while I ran my hands over her belly. I felt the lumps and bumps beneath her skin and marvelled at the wonder of a life that would not have existed except for my actions. How many lived *DIDN'T* because of the changes I had introduced? Had Sue lost well-loved children? "What's up?" I had an almost naked woman waiting for me to kick my pants off and all I could do was stand there in a daydream. "If you don't want..." "Oh no Samantha. I want. Yes, I do want you. I was just thinking about babies that are here and those that aren't." My pants went sideways, landing on top of my shoes and socks. With Sam in her bra and me in my underpants I was aware that I'd been driving and climbing around in the Arizona summer. "I think I should freshen up." Sam pointed to the bathroom and I jumped in the shower for a hasty wash. The shower door opened after I had the water running for less than a minute and Sam joined me. She'd shucked her bra and, bare, her breasts looked unusual but inviting. The blue veins were prominent beneath sun-starved alabaster skin. Her nipples were thicker, more like my fingertip and her areoles were wide and darker than I recalled. "I can't believe how beautiful you are." "You don't mean that. You've got Sue." "Sue who? No, seriously, why can't you both be beautiful?" "But why the sudden realisation?" "You have to understand. Before, you were a girl; now you are a woman - and in all her glory. People change as they leave their teens and I got to see it suddenly rather than gradually." I'd washed the sweat and grime away and enjoyed the wet embrace without any overt sexual contact. Oh, I was aware of her breasts pressing against me and Sam must have been as conscious of my erect penis but neither of us made any move - it simply felt so good for us to be there together. "We don't have a water shortage but we should probably save some for later. I think we might need to freshen up again." Sam had always had slight streak of impatience but she had obviously learned to be more subtle about how she dealt with delay. "Perhaps we can see if we need to freshen up a third time?" "We got permission for one fuck - are you trying to get us both in trouble?" I was stunned. "We get fuck by fuck permission?" "Oh, if I ever need proof you were back! We didn't need permission the first time. If there was one thing the Vixen Circle taught us, and there were *MANY*, it was that we needn't be jealous about seeing someone we love sharing pleasure with another friend. Oh we could be upset if relationships ended but that was less likely to happen simply over sex. Would you have split up with Sue in your younger days if she had made love to one of the other Vixens - male or female?" "Not if she still loved me." "Which she does - and she obviously knows we can have sex without it impinging on how you feel for her." I dried Sam, caressing her with the towel so thoroughly that I had didn't need a towel myself by the time I had finished. That was probably because as I dried each part of her body I also caressed it with my lips. As I lifted her leg to dry between each toe I kissed her now horizontal thigh and followed it to a heavenly aromatic patch of fluff. I buried my nose in it and rejoiced in how a woman's pubic hair intensified the scent, how it cushioned the friction between our parts when we made love and how it readily identified a mature female. Sam and I returned to the bed and lay together, our hands and our mouths playing over our bodies in a slow and sensuous interaction. I was probably more curious than aroused by Sam's state but the arousal was there. When we turned to each other with a mutual need for penetration, it was without haste. With the knowledge of how she could best participate, Sam lay back with me at an angle, our legs interlocking so I penetrated her more like a plus sign than two spoons in a drawer or something either more mundane or energetic. I slid deep into her, her baby-belly resting against my leg. With my gentle stroking came a response - a threesome with a difference. We laughed and held hands over the movement. It subsided and a different movement began. Our hands remained together, gripping tighter as we came. --- Sam and I walked back to the main house. Sex had proven relaxing, satisfying a need for relationship rather than release. It was a building of bonds, liens of love, of a friendship between us that had withstood the ties she had with Julieanne and I with Sue. Could I have behaved this way in my prior life? Never. It was solely a result of the Vixen Circle. In much the same way I could cuddle and kiss Gavin which, while far less than Sam and I had just shared, was still far closer than I had been with any man before my death. I could and had given Gavin a blowjob; that would have left me in therapy when I was first twenty let alone fifteen. I expected our return to be a matter of mirthful congratulations and a need for me to reassure Sue of my ongoing love for her - even if only to meet my own need for absolution. Instead I found that Sam had set me up - though that was mere opportunity than the reason for our coupling. While I had been busy out on the ranch as well as in the guest house, other guests had been arriving and been duly secreted away. I just had a chance to tell Sue, "Thank you for that. I love you." when a heavily perfumed woman covered my eyes from behind with a "Guess who?" "Give me a clue," I temporised. My clue was to be swung about and have my hips severely bruised. "Carole!" "Well dur! Of course it's me. Is there anyone else who asks you that?" "Not like you do." It seemed a safe answer and I wasn't getting any help from an amused Sue. "And they'd better not. I heard you had a bump. You all right?" "Yes. I think it may have been a fortunate accident." "Well I'm not sure. Perhaps we can go to your room and check you out." Again no help from my increasingly amused girlfriend. What was my status with Carole? Was I expected to cheat on Sue with her too, regardless of the fact that Sue might not consider it cheating? "I think I'll survive." "Perhaps I should check you aren't suffering any lingering effects. I am almost qualified now." "Qualified?" "Well as a Midwife but I do know a little about male anatomy too - if you remember." I certainly remembered Carole's interest in both male and female anatomy but nothing about midwifery - yet. "Er, no thanks. I think I'll be okay." "Are you sure Honey?" Sue argued too. "You look a little tired." What did Sue expect? She knew I'd been with a lusty Sam. And why was she encouraging Carole? It appeared my fears about having to bed her as well might not have been groundless. "Come and have a lie down at least." She took one hand and Carole linked her arm though mine. Why did I feel like I had a burly security guard there instead of an admittedly sexy young woman? In the bedroom they pointed out I shouldn't have my shoes on the bedspread and, then, when I'd shucked those, that my wallet and keys wouldn't be comfortable to lie on. "No, don't take them out of your pockets - you'll never find them. Here..." I doubted I'd have any more difficulty finding them than finding my pants. I wasn't stripped naked but I was pushed on the bed by both young women who decided the contents of their own pockets would be a problem and stripped to a similar state. They lay beside me, resting their heads on my chest and beginning to chat. I was relieved that we weren't to have an immediate romp though I doubted I would escape without satisfying both of them. The idea was attractive and both women watched my underpants develop a sudden lump - though they made no mention of the change. "Have you seen any of the old crowd at all lately?" Carole tip-toed her fingers across my bare belly just above my waistband. "One or two of them. Rosemary is engaged. She's waiting to finish her degree and then they'll both try to get jobs programming computers together." Getting in just as the revolution was about to start. "Gina's still with Colin *AND* Bruce though her parents think they are all just housemates. I don't know exactly what they get up to but I'd like to be a fly on their wall. From what little she's let slip - well boasted about really - all three are more or less interchangeable." Sue did her tip-toeing below my waistband but over the cloth. "I heard from Mary Kate myself - quite recently." "Oh?" asked Carole. "What is she doing?" "You, you tease!" The ensuite door opened and Mary Kate launched herself on top of Carole. Carole was seriously kissed then Mary Kate leaned over and did the same to me while Nancy, Deborah and Louise emerged as well. With so many Vixens present I was kept busy and didn't have time to attend to my state of undress. Carole wasn't surprised to see Mary Kate or the others - she'd known exactly where they were although she didn't have a chance to see them before I did. Sue of course had already welcomed them but that didn't stop her getting as many kisses and cuddles as I did. I was stripped before I knew it and led out between them. Sue paused to discard her own clothes then followed behind, not at all self-conscious among equal-minded friends. She caught up while Sam and Julieanne were being added to our group; Sam's belly being as warmly embraced as my well-handled erection. The newcomers drifted off in ones or twos, returning to whatever rooms they had been allocated without a stitch on. I was pleased when Gavin and Jack turned up because they too sported boners - for whatever reason they might have found. I suspected there was a gleam of moisture on each one. (Jack had been trimmed of his foreskin and smiled at me when I looked up. I must have blushed at being caught looking since he smiled even harder. I think he'd said he was only interested in one man but it looked like he could stir as many up as he felt like.) When we were all there together they suddenly took off, dragging me willingly with them. Through a door I suddenly recognised without knowing why and then down a ramp. Down, and around a corner that reversed our direction, and then down again. People were laughing and I was held between Mary Kate and Nancy while Sue and Louis held onto Deborah in front of us. I didn't mind being there or being naked but I found it disturbing that everything was familiar while being so mysteriously conspiratorial. Before, Sue had understood my ignorance and had shown me around with explanations designed to help me cope. Now she was one of those deliberately, or unwittingly, preying on the failure of my memories to mesh. We must have been some distance out behind the ranch house and well below the surface of the ground. There was a breeze in my face, refreshingly cool, and the changing echoes of cheerful voices up ahead of me suggested the corridor opened up into a larger room. I stood in shock. We were in a cave. Not extremely large but adequate. Our path continued past stalactites and stalagmites with forms of amazing beauty. Through to a new chamber and there was a charming grotto; a pool lit from below while the cave itself only had little starry lights around the tops of the walls. "This is beautiful!" "I know. It gets me every time I see it too." I wondered how many times Nancy had seen its charm. How many times had I? How had this combination of the natural and the man made come about? Surely there was some law covering the ownership of caves. We bathed together. The water wasn't as chill as I expected but still we didn't stay long. There was no splashing but more a refreshing recovery from the desert heat and a cleansing of its effects. As we all moved around in the pool I took the opportunity to find a place by Sue's side and stayed there as we dried ourselves and each other. "What's going on Dear?" Sue edged me away. I think only Sam really noticed. "We all love you Albert - I won you if you don't mind that term. They join us for Summer Break and sometimes as individuals or pairs and we show each other that our love is still strong." "They don't have anyone else?" "Of course they do Honey. You heard Carole about Rosemary; Janine found someone very nice too - we met him a couple of years ago. They've both decided to be monogamous. A few of the others have done similarly, some with each other. Others have paired up and still come back - Mary Kate and Louise for example. Deborah and Penelope too but Pen can't get away this year as her father is poorly. She sent Deborah because they haven't come out to her parents yet. You know most of this. Nothing?" "I recognised the doorway as familiar." "This is our third year here. We were all still in High School when you and your parents bought the ranch and flew the Vixen's out for a holiday." "Sorry. Odd bits of memory but nothing conclusive. Give it time. So, you surprise me, we swim, and what?" "The surprise was only because I could make it a surprise. The swim was to refresh us - and as for the what, come on." I noticed the air was warmer where the others had arranged themselves over an ample supply of pool lounges. As I thought of warm air in the caves I suddenly visualised a ventilator filtering out the sand or dust and then pumping the air into some distant extension of the cave so that much of the heat was dissipated by the time it got to us, leaving us with a year round indoor swimming pool. We could have pumped the water up to be heated by the sun and returned but the brisk dip seemed far more refreshing for the few opportunities we had to use the pool. Mary Kate was waiting on one lounge with Louise next to her and they had Sue and myself lay back between their spread legs. The others were spaced around in a similar manner; Sam reclining on Julieanne, Jack on Gavin, and Nancy, Carole and Deborah each with a lounge to themselves. "I remember being like this with Penelope, last year I think. I hope her father is doing well." It was my first real glimpse of both near and distant past. Sam's discussion with Carole *HADN'T* been the first I'd known of her absence this year. "I'm hoping he doesn't linger but that's partly my own self-interest talking. I don't want him suffering, and I don't want Penny or her family to see him suffering, but most of all I keep thinking how her mother would probably be willing to accept a discrete acknowledgment of our relationship." Deborah could benefit by being able to jump twenty years forward to where two women living together wasn't considered as socially unacceptable by quite as large a segment of the population. As she spoke I recalled further aspects of Penelope's home life she had revealed previously. I had to believe it was a memory rather than my imagination creating a false one. I hoped the last five years came back soon and in a large chunk so I could be reassured that was the case. Louise had her arms around me and her fingers gently stroked my chest and belly. Sue was getting a similar treatment from Mary Kate and we both smiled at each other as our own hands slid over the smooth skin of their thighs. We were up very close and personal and matters only became more personal after Mary Kate leaned forward and Sue met her kiss. Sue and I were obviously in an open relationship - or semi-open if it only extended to the Vixen Circle or perhaps just some of their members. Though technically *I* didn't need permission from Sue to do anything since it was my other self who had made whatever promises that had been made, *I* was in love with Sue to the extent that I would have happily proposed to her provided my other self stayed submerged or agreed with my actions should I disappear. She had been happy with my time with Sam and I felt confident that Louise and I could share pleasure but, even with Sue's comments about the strength of our mutual love, I still didn't know if that meant I could do everything with Louise that I could and had done with Sam. I had to let Louise direct this show, for the time being at least. When Sue scuttled around and buried her face between Mary Kate's thighs I smiled at Louise and asked if she would like me to do the same. Louise didn't have to do more than smile back. There was no glance over at Sue either to get permission or to look for outrage. "You are still the only man I've found who takes as much interest in eating as in being eaten." Well that seemed to prove we'd been down this path before. Louise might find this a repeat of old experiences but I was highly aroused by the difference in appearance and taste of yet another woman who *I* had never been with. Perhaps my memories should stay submerged for a little longer - until I'd dealt with the other women here, if that was fated. Louise was musky sweet and produced a thick, almost jelly-like slime that felt like it filled my mouth. As I swallowed it was as though I'd ingested our earlier experiences. I remembered the first time that I'd had a chance to eat Louise. That was back in *MY* teen years with the Vixens. From there I found myself fast forwarding through other times. New experiences - just the highlights, but enough of them to know Louise was an old lover and one who liked what I could do and what she could do for me. I returned to her pussy and lapped like a kitten as I now recalled she preferred. The noises she made were closer to a dove than any feline but I knew she was enjoying herself - one of several around us now who were participating in shared or solo activities. Memories of Louise blended into the annual get togethers - here and elsewhere. I recalled some outrageous antics Carole had gotten up to one year and that led to a review of all I'd done with Carole, or witnessed her do. Making love to her in public - well on a balcony in New Orleans, above the crowd and generally hidden from their eyes as she leaned over a balcony and caught cheap necklaces thrown by those admiring her otherwise unadorned charms. I was lying on some old wooden boxes and Carole would sit on my prick - sideways, squirming for a while until she leapt up to catch and don the offering and then taking hold of me as she positioned herself to slip back down over my hardness. Where was Sue in the memory? Or any of the others? The thought opened memories and I recalled I hadn't always been the gentleman *I* wished I might. I recalled the make up sex - which included Carole; appropriate since it was she who had insisted I apologise to Sue. I also recalled the private make up - including more sex - between Sue and myself when I realised what a jerk I was. Things had stayed good from there but it explained why Sue spent a large portion of her time living with her parents. I'd have to tell her I'd remembered and curse the other me for a butt wipe. The only really good thing I got from that memory was that I did want to marry Sue and she'd asked for a little more time. I made Louise come, and repeated the feat, and exhausted her approaching a third happy. Sue had managed one with Mary Kate and had her going full speed ahead for a second when I bid Louise a short farewell. I draped an arm over Sue's back and leaned down by her ear. "I've remembered quite a few things and though I'd like to punch myself in the nose over a couple of memories I find we are in complete agreement over one important matter." I apologised to Mary Kate for interrupting and then settled myself on the sandy ground beside her lounge. "I believe I've done this before though not on bended knees - and yes I understand it should just be the one. "Dearest darling Sue. Do you think that you might say yes this time? Would you like to marry me, and let me marry you?" Mary Kate mischievously closed her thighs on Sue's head so she couldn't easily respond. Sue's attempts to escape then turned into an attempt to make Mary Kate come a second time so she would relax her hold. When Sue's face collided with mine all I could smell and taste was Mary Kate. And yet another bout of memories surfaced to distract me as Sue answered. "Sorry. What?" "You mean you weren't listening!? I've a good mind to reconsider." "If you don't want Albert I'll have him," joked Mary Kate. "Nah. I'm just getting him trained right." Sue turned back to me. "You said you remembered. Do you remember what we discussed about what we would vow?" I stretched my brain cells. We'd discussed what fidelity would mean. Sue had loved me for ages. Both mes without knowing why there was a difference. She'd found the me I'd left behind was different enough that she'd wanted me to be absolutely certain that I could commit to one woman for the rest of my life - if I had to. Fortunately we both treated the Vixens as a special case where openly acknowledged sex was not a breach of our vows. Other third parties were a problem but my current me had no interest and I was pretty sure that my other me wouldn't have considered cheating on Sue. I summarised and Sue nodded. "Looks like we have a wedding to plan." Mary Kate and Louise were the first to congratulate us - only because of their proximity. As peace slowly returned Sue took hold of me. "You have to promise me one thing though." "Yes?" "Don't *EVER* disappear on me again. I love you but I really want *YOU* if you understand." "I will do all I can to stay with you," I promised. --- The years had passed on as quickly as they had the first time but, through a careful avoidance of any further trauma, I got to see them without any sudden intervals. Sue and I loved, and aged, together. We saw our children grow and then saw the evidence another generation had been started. Life was good for both of us; for all the Vixens who had remained close and most of those who only showed up each decade for another reunion. Our kids grew up with more "Uncles", "Aunts" and "Cousins" than most and witnessed such a wide range of relationships that made them more tolerant. We kept the ranch and as the kids grew they held their own sexuality training without more than some guidance and a little reminder of which "cousin" was actually a half-sibling. We oldies found enough quiet spots of our own while the kids were occupied. I didn't make the same friends this time around since I didn't have the same job nor frequent the same places. I had however missed a particular couple's anniversary the first time and when I found they had successfully negotiated their relationship despite my absence I made plans to be at the restaurant if not to crash the actual party. Sue waited beside me for the lights to change. I'd organised things well ahead of time to be at the restaurant ready for the couple to arrive but hadn't allowed for a traffic snarl as a minor gas explosion took out several sets of lights while the attending fire truck blocked both lanes travelling in the direction we needed to go. We'd left the cab and walked and now needed to wait for the lights to change. I was getting impatient then suddenly surprised Sue by laughing out loudly. She wasn't the only one to stare my way. "What on Earth?" "Don't you see Sue, love? This is here and now. Everything from this point on is new. There was no guarantee I'd get here but now...!" We stood there letting the other pedestrians part around us and now the lights were against us. A man was waiting impatiently to cross and I lifted my arm as a barrier as he prepared to jump the change. I reconsidered and turned instead, leading Sue back the way we had come. "You know, we don't really need to see some strangers' party." There was a screech of tyres and a thud behind us. I didn't look back as I spoke to the woman I loved more than anything including my life. "Perhaps *HE* has some matters he'd always wished he could have fixed. If so, I hope he is as lucky as I was." *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Doppelganger Part: Chapter 1 of 31 Summary: Justin was born with a little extra - a set of female sex organs - but that was just the beginning. Keywords: m-solo, f-solo Language: English Copyright: 2005 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* ********************************************************* * This story considers two unusual youngsters with * * the usual teenage interest in matters sexual. * * * * As their relationship slowly unfolds, so does * * the erotic side of the story - hopefully more * * enjoyably than a simple "wham bam" would be. * ********************************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* The first signs were misinterpreted. The baby must have kicked - forget the fact that at that stage the baby was too small to have reached through the warm surrounding ocean to make contact with its mothers uterine wall. Yet there was a sudden increase in pressure caused by an additional presence in her womb. The pressure faded as suddenly as it had came and the baby was solitary again. The next occasion caused the woman to gasp in pain as her abdominal wall was stretched from within. This too was misinterpreted as the technician was right at that second applying a squirt of cold goo onto her protruding belly. He accepted the reaction with a simple apology and turned back to the instrumentation before selecting a probe which he rubbed over her gravid stomach. As she became accustomed to the discomfort (yet another she had grown used to over the last couple of months, what with throwing up and aching legs), the expectant mother paid more attention to the changing images being swept across the monitor by her side. An arrow moved to highlight an unusually shaped flashing cursor. "There you are", said the ultrasound technician, "you can see the little one's heart beating." He moved the probe and adjusted the depth reading. "Oh. I think I may have a surprise for you", he added. "Do you or your husband have a history of twins in your family?" "No." "Well see this. It's another little beating heart. Looks like you have an instant family." She watched the screen as she wondered how they would cope. It was going to be a stretch at first with a new baby but two! Her husband wasn't highly paid and money was tight. With her mind distracted she barely noticed the absence of pain as her belly subsided when she sat up. ----- It came as a surprise when she didn't grow as big as expected and her gynaecologist delivered a single large baby rather than the pair of smaller offspring everyone had anticipated. Still she had a darling little boy and they could return quite a bit of the now unnecessarily duplicated items to the stores. Before she left the hospital though, the surprise turned into more of a shock for both her and her husband. They were ushered into a small office where they sat down before the doctor's desk. She faced them, once again regretting having to impart bad (well maybe not "bad", but probably unwelcome) news to an otherwise happy set of new parents. "I don't want you to be worried by this interview. We always run through a few things with new parents especially when it's their first; let you know the results of any tests we perform, give you an opportunity to ask any questions, and so on." She tried her best to make everything seem normal. "I'd like to reassure you that you have a perfectly healthy baby (she avoided 'little boy') and the jaundice is normal and will only need a day under the lights to settle." The parents seemed comfortable so far. "Sometimes", she continued, "we pick up something that needs some further checking and we have found something I need to discuss with you; it's nothing life threatening so you don't need to be concerned that way." "What is it then?" asked the new father. "Well. There is really very little difference between males and females. Most of the changes occur as the baby experiences various influences while growing in the womb. Very rarely we see cases where these changes are at one end or the other of a wide range of conditions which can be considered normal." Always stress their baby is normal. Just some babies are more normal than others, even if you never said that. "In little", she looked at her notes, "Justin's case he has been given a little extra." She looked back and forth between the now slightly worried parents hoping they were following her explanation. "In addition to having a full set of male equipment he also has a vagina." There was a gasp from the father and a sob from the mother. "We won't really know how much this affects things until closer to puberty though I think he should have annual check ups to review his progress and I'd like you to consider allowing us to perform a small operation, a laparoscopy, to check just what he has been given. "In the past there would have been pressure to perform some sort of corrective surgery but quite often the child later disagreed with the choices taken. Now we realise there is usually no hurry and a considered decision is much better than a rushed one." She went on to explain what was involved and to reassure them, as much as was possible anyway, that their son was a boy and could quite happily live as a boy and a man. Time might prove her wrong but they needed some comfort in the here and now. And so Justin Rogers was checked and found to have both uterus and ovaries as well before being sent home with his mother to a nursery freshly painted a definite blue. ----- Though he was just a typical little boy, there were many unexplained incidents as Justin was growing up. - There was the way he seemed to be able to get out of his pyjamas. It started when he was in nappies, which tended to be messy sometimes, but it continued occasionally as he got older and he could apparently even do it without undoing the buttons. Sometimes he would even be found sitting naked as he played with his clothes piled beside him. - There was the baby-sitter. Val and Dave Rogers discouraged their friends from using her after they were called away from Dave's office party with tales their baby was missing. They figured it was drink or drugs since she maintained when she first went into Justin's room that there were two infants there. When she checked later there was only one in the cot. She panicked and called the contact number they had left, resulting in their desperate dash home where they found Justin safely asleep. The teenage girl suffered financially but she was happy at least to get out of, and never need to return to, the house she maintained vehemently afterwards was haunted. - There was the not unusual imaginary friend and the very unusual questions. "Why is there this water all over the floor Justin?" "Tina splashed me so I splashed her back." "Well tell her not to splash over my nice dry floor in future please." "Okay Mummy. Mummy, why doesn't Tina have a willy?" "I don't know dear. We will have to try to find out, won't we?" with the unspoken "and where did you find out little girls don't have what little boys have?" When she told her husband later all he could do was laugh and say "You should have told him it didn't matter because in another 15 years she would have a damn nice place to put one." Tina's voice could occasionally be heard having a conversation with Justin but his youthful voice had the range to produce little girl sounds and Tina had always just "had to go" whenever anyone joined Justin. "Tina" didn't turn up often enough to get annoying and there was no suggestion Justin was stressed over anything that would push him into his own world. He certainly was seen to be quite happy immediately before or after one of her visits and he never seemed to be sad that she had "gone". - There were the times when Justin ate far too much and then suffered for it afterwards. He only did it twice though. After that if Tina was hungry he let her eat alone or encouraged her to just have a snack. ----- As was expected "Tina" came less frequently as he grew older till she stopped visiting sometime around his ninth birthday. All in all Justin had a pretty normal childhood even if he remained an only child. A normal childhood in all but two respects. As he was growing up his genitals resembled those of any normal little boy except there was a puffiness to his scrotum where the thin skin of a male's sack was replaced by the thicker tissues of a little girl's labia majora. The front of the sack was certainly loose enough; it was where the skin met his legs that a difference could just be noticed. Since boys aren't usually in the habit of feeling one another's balls there was nothing in Justin's experience to suggest that this wasn't the way scrotums always felt. Then hidden away behind his balls was the hymen covered opening to his vagina. Once again, in its prepubescent form the inner lips were barely noticeable and there was nothing to suggest there was anything of interest hidden away. Having had his balls knocked he was willing to listen to his mother when she told him not to poke around there or it would hurt like his balls had. He missed out on a separate clitoris though, the sensitive receptors ending up in the head of his penis where he found out about them in due course like all other little boys. Justin's mother had consulted with his doctor and, as a result, had wisely postponed any discussion of his differences until he had at least the rudimentary understanding of the biology involved and the social skills to realise when certain secrets had to remain secrets for peer acceptance. The second difference was that, unlike other children's imaginary friends, Justin's weren't. ----- Tina had been coming around for as long as Justin could remember. She was always friendly and if he was feeling sad for any reason she was always willing to console him or to let him console her. They rarely disagreed on any matter having similar interests and similar experiences though Tina did seem a little put out that hers were often second-hand. There certainly weren't any secrets between them and no shame. He had seen her body as often as she had seen his and other than a natural curiosity about the physical differences they accepted each other's nudity whenever it occurred. It was only when they grew older that the penny dropped and Justin and Tina realised they were closer than other kids brothers and sisters. Justin's parents had always responded as though Tina was there and he had never realised that they might think she wasn't. Because the matter was never pressed from either side it wasn't an issue until it was too late to be an issue. Justin was eleven when he first connected other parents talk of imaginary friends with Tina and just thought it meant other kids had their visitors too. He made the mistake of talking to one of his younger cousins when his aunt had come visiting but she reacted as if Justin was making fun of her. That is until Tina appeared and Tracey went screaming to her parents to tattle that he had a naked girl in his room. Tracey wasn't lying of course but by the time the adults had turned up Tina had gone and what could Tracey say. Tina would have had to have followed her down the corridor to get away and she certainly wasn't hiding in Justin's room. Tracey knew that; she looked. Justin, older than when he had openly told anyone about Tina, was now conscious that she had been naked and that this could get him into trouble. He simply denied any knowledge of what Tracey was on about. She got into trouble and wouldn't even speak to him for over two years; he was grateful to Tina for that, if nothing else. He did realise that he missed Tina though. She hadn't been around for a while and in the meantime he had become more conscious of girls. Now he would like to see her again (he blushed at the implication of "seeing" her as Tracey had) he didn't know if he would; she had been there like old times, had had long enough to say "Hello Tracey" and was gone like in the past before he could speak. He felt like he had lost a loved one yet somehow he could still feel her presence. ----- Justin filled out and was as successful in sports, academic achievements and social interactions as any of his peers. That is to say, some things he managed with ease, some he just managed and some never seemed to work out right. He had never been seriously ill and had passed his regular annual check ups with flying colours until he was almost thirteen. Dr Bryant had been his GP since taking over from Dr Michaels when he was three. She had taken over the case notes and had dutifully recorded his progress over the years. Having been his doctor for so long, and with each examination duplicating all the earlier ones he could remember, Justin faced the prospects of dropping his drawers for a quick touch up as just the normal situation when visiting the doctor. Well except that he had noticed the first signs of wispy hair "down there" and was a bit more self-conscious than in previous years. He tried at first to suggest that it wasn't necessary for him to go any more; none of his peers seemed to go unless they were sick. "It's more necessary now than ever", was his mother's cryptic remark and her only expansion was "let's wait until we hear what the Doctor has to say first." At least his mother sat the other side of the screen in the doctor's room. Dropping his drawers in her presence was bad enough, dropping them in her view would have been unbearable. He buttoned himself up and joined his mother in the two visitors chairs by the doctor's desk. "Okay. Well once again you've survived another year unscathed Justin. And though it may embarrass you to have me mention it you are progressing well on the way to manhood. And that is why we need to have a little talk." Justin was worried that his mother had for some reason organised for Dr Bryant to give him the "Birds and the Bees" talk. He blushed. Didn't she realise that they covered all that at school and that Dad had already sat him down and gone through the boy meets girl details to supplement all the reading material aimed at various age groups that had been available, adding additional material as Justin had asked questions. How could she do this! There was no graceful way to escape; he had to listen and hope it wasn't too embarrassing. Dr Bryant started by reassuring herself that Justin was aware in more than the most superficial ways that boys differed from girls. She at least was aided by some 3D models that could be pulled apart to show what went on inside a girl. It was almost as bad has he expected. At least the model was new to him and he was learning something from it. He just hoped she wasn't going to show a rubber penis up inside the model like the diagram in one of the Sex Ed movies at school. At least not with his mother here. Dr Bryant for some reason didn't pursue the reproductive side of her talk and it took a little while for Justin to register what she was saying. He rolled back the conversation in memory and picked up from where he had lost the thread. "While a baby's X and Y genes tell it whether to be a boy or a girl it's not quite that simple. The messages only work when they are copied and read properly and there are a lot of ways the messages can get confused." Like Dr Michaels, Sue Bryant was used to, not lying, but rather putting the best possible spin on news a patient might incorrectly interpret pessimistically. It was true that the development of a baby could be affected by hormonal variations in the mother and environmental variations during the pregnancy such as smoking, alcohol or drug consumption, or even a lack of vitamins or other building blocks. That didn't necessarily make it the mother's fault if something was noticed later. Likewise any "difference" was only an abnormality if the person concerned believed it wasn't "normal" without realising the vast ranges of normal variation. Thus things got "confused"; they didn't "go wrong" and Dr Bryant didn't try to find reasons (at least when talking things over like this) lest someone start pointing the finger of blame whether it be towards another or at themselves. "Just because things sometimes come out different doesn't mean that they are worse. Look at eye colours. It may be that tens or hundreds of thousands of years ago everyone had brown eyes. Then something happened one day and a baby was born with blue eyes. That baby grew up and had more babies and one day years later there were a lot of blue eyed people as well. Now we have people with all sorts of shades of eye colour, violet through all types of blue and then to green as well as brown. "Sometime the change is important as it means the baby has a better chance of surviving than those that don't have the difference. We don't know straight away when that is going to happen. It may not be until years later when someone looks at a disease like Malaria and finds that people who have a difference called sickle-cell anaemia which looks like a bit of a downer actually are better at surviving where there are swarms of mosquitos." What had happened to "when a daddy meets a mummy..."? Where was this leading. "I want you to pay attention to these models again because we are going to look at the differences a bit closer. You know about eggs and sperm I presume?" Justin nodded. "And do you know where they come from?" "Ovaries and testes." "Right!" She pointed at the relevant sites in each clear model. "Now if you notice the 'plumbing' involved is much the same. If you consider men at one end of a set of designs and women at the other you can imagine getting from one end to the other with a series of small changes." Justin imagined the penis - not that large in the first place but it was probably a cost cutting measure, plastic must be expensive - getting gradually shorter until the piss hole was flat against the surface. The tube from the balls separated and formed its own exit point nearby which gradually opened as the balls were drawn up inside until the tube formed vagina and womb while testes became ovaries. He didn't know enough to speculate on clitoris and g-spot, on sensitive glans and prostate and on the presence of erectile tissue in both sexes. There seemed to be an inner voice helping him understand the concepts while he still remained ignorant of the reason for the discussion in the first place. "That all makes sense but I'm sorry, I don't understand where this is leading." "Well basically there was a little mix up in your plumbing before you were born. It isn't serious by any means or you would have known about it before now so don't worry. What I want to do is to let you know a bit more about it now you are old enough to understand what I mean." Justin was stunned. How was his "plumbing" wrong? Everything seemed to be in the right place, wasn't it? He looked at his mother who seemed to be watching him closely as though expecting him to react badly. Now he was worried. The doctor noticed his expression. "I said don't worry. There isn't any problem that I can see with what you have got down there and you don't seem to be missing anything that you need concern yourself about. "I don't know of an easier way of explaining so if you don't mind would you drop your pants again and lie back down on the examining table please." He did as he was asked and the doctor came to join him. "I want you to put your hand at the base of your penis and feel around at the back of your scrotum, the sack which holds your balls. Now carefully feel the skin between there and your bottom. Can you feel how the skin is ruffled and there is a bit of a depression? Good. Get dressed and we can cover things a bit easier on the models." ----- Of course with such a ponderous change to deal with it was only natural for Justin to want to be alone in his room. And with such a wealth of new knowledge about his body it was only natural that he should explore it further in his own private realm. And THAT is what really brought about the revelation which helped him to come to terms with his new body image. Justin was gently feeling around what he supposed he now had to call "his" vulva. He was laying back on his bed trying to look between his legs but the angle was impossible. He carefully felt over the surface with one hand, exploring the entrance to "his" vagina. It felt nice, so nice that his penis began to straighten. He took it in his other hand and began to stroke. "That tickles." Justin understandably jumped. There is not one boy (or girl?) experimenting with their body who does not guiltily fear being discovered. He quickly spun around to see an equally naked Tina lying on his bed with her legs spread and her hand nestled between the tops of her thighs. "What?" Justin, for the first time, wished Tina hadn't come visiting. The interval had been so long that he had come to half believe she WAS imaginary but never before had she turned up at what he considered was a grossly embarrassing time. He was about to move his hand to cover his erection when his fingers brushed over the smooth surface. Yes, smooth! Puffy outer lips were gone; wrinkled inner lips - gone; vagina - gone! He looked around at Tina in amazement. Could it be? Erection now forgotten (and in fact it was beginning to soften with his attention so forcibly drawn to other matters) he climbed up onto the bed to sit cross-legged next to her. "Tina can I ask you something?" "Sure." "You used to come and go a lot; now it's been a while. Where have you been?" Tina thought. "I don't know. I can remember when I've been with you and I can remember the things that have happened to you, but I'm not there then so how can I? I don't remember being anywhere else." "I think I might know. Give me your hand a second." Justin found it seemed perfectly natural to hold Tina's hand and to place it down between his legs though later he had to laugh at the idea of trying to get one of the girls at school to do it. She felt the smooth area. "Your pussy is gone!" "Yes. And you are here. I think Dr Sue got it wrong - I'm not one person with two sets of sex organs, I'm two people with one body; well most of the time." "I think you're right though it doesn't explain why, or how, I come and go." "Will you stop playing with yourself please. It's very distracting; and would you mind putting on my gown please." "Sorry it felt nice when you touched yourself so I kept doing it. You didn't mind touching it yourself before." "That was before I found out there were two of me and that one is a good looking girl who's now got tits." "A good looking girl?" "You don't know?" "I've never seen myself. I only remember you remembering what I look like and it has been a while." Justin took Tina's hand and stood with her in front of the mirror. "Oh my gosh!" "Oh god!" Both youngsters saw it at the same time. "You look just like me." "No wonder you called me 'Good Looking'." Tina gave him a playful thump on his upper arm. Consider the difference between how we see ourselves and how others see us. In the mirror everything is swapped around and since faces are only superficially symmetrical people are accustomed to a different view to that presented to the world. Think how everyone but the vainest person hates looking at their own photos but then thinks everyone else's are a good likeness. In addition to the issue of view point, Tina's visits had tended to be brief and sometimes at long intervals and in the meantime their ages had steadily marched on so her appearance had changed from infantile to childish to juvenile and was heading into youthful and then adult. With a few exceptions, Justin had probably never really seen the "same" Tina more than a couple of times. As they considered the premise further it was surprising how many things made more sense. Take the clothes. Every time Tina turned up one or both were naked. In the bath both were but usually Tina would be bare and, on far fewer occasions, she would appear in Justin's clothes and he would be suddenly naked. As they thought about those latter occasions they realised that the one time where they could remember the details Justin had also found himself displaced while Tina appeared in his clothes where he had been. It had been memorable since he had been laying on his bed and found himself on the carpet instead. The reason why Tina disappeared seemed easier to comprehend; it looked like a simple protective measure. Until their previous time she had only emerged when Justin was alone; when someone came close she retreated. On that occasion Tracey had seemed like a kindred spirit but her scream would have driven anyone away. Trying to work out the circumstances of the emergences was far trickier but the process was assisted by the fact that while their experiences were the same their memories weren't quite and one could remind the other of forgotten incidents. Like how an infantile attempt at "Justin" persisted for some years as "Tintin" or "Tin" rather than the more logical "Jus" and was later easily converted to "Tina". The only commonality appeared to be when some need existed - a need for comforting, a need for companionship, a need to share happy times in a household with only one child, a need for answers. They sat side by side as they worked through their mutual history, quietly discussing their thoughts and ideas. Tina had thrown a robe on in deference to Justin's new sensibilities and he had pulled on a pair of shorts. Things were working out well; they were making progress in an area where they couldn't expect others to help when it was spoilt by a knock on the door. "Are you alright honey?" When Justin turned back the robe lay empty and he hesitantly checked. Yes, Tina was back. At least he knew now that she never really left him. "Yes. I've been thinking things through and I'm more comfortable now." "Well, your dinner's ready if you want it." "Thanks. I'll be there soon." The footsteps receded. "Tina?" He listened for an echo in his mind but none came. "Oh well", he thought, "If all else fails..." He went back to doing what he was doing immediately before her last appearance bit all he got was a solitary pleasure. He got up. "Hope you liked it too." He would have to be careful or people would catch him talking to himself and think him strange. "Strange!" he thought. It was now a comforting strangeness, not something fearful. Maybe that was why Tina didn't emerge. ----- Nothing he did over the next few months brought her back and he eventually stopped trying; she had come when it was time before, he could only hope she would again. Her absence and his changing body had their sometimes not-so-subtle effect on his behaviour; his personality didn't change but he didn't take up any of the signals that the girls around him were beginning to find him attractive. Similarly he was more self-conscious in the change rooms after Gym class but that wasn't an unusual situation for boys his age where puberty was taking an ever greater hold. His hormonal mix must have been a nightmare and it took a couple of visits to the doctor and a series of blood tests over six months to satisfy her that he wasn't going into meltdown, let alone heading towards a sideshow as a bearded lady. A few months after that he was back at the doctor's again with what appeared to be budding breasts. He DID appear to have more feminine nipples than most boys but his breast tissue didn't grow more than normal in a teenage male body. The lumps behind his nipples had given him some worries initially but he relaxed when he found he was within (once again that over used term) the "normal" range and that they would subside soon enough. He lived under these circumstances for a while and then something happened that made him make his first solo visit to the doctor. With no available appointment slots Dr Bryant gave her okay for her receptionist to extend her hours and he flipped through the old National Geographics that seemed to accumulate in any surgery until the last patient had gone. Justin had always held a special place in her heart; much more like a favoured relation than a patient. She had monitored his condition on a quarterly basis and he had always been a charming little boy; now he was reaching an age where others might start exploring his body and she feared for him if their reaction wasn't positive. Justin thought he knew what was happening but he had to be sure and it wasn't something he could easily discuss with his parents. His father had walled off any thoughts about his son's "differences" when he had shown himself to be a typical little boy and while his mother had had a couple of years to prepare herself for the "turning into a woman" talk she had kept putting it off and he didn't want to worry her about a change in direction at this late stage. "Dr Sue" was the obvious choice; she had kept his secret over the years and had treated it as having no more importance than whether or not he had a pierced ear. "Hello Justin. What can I do for you today?" "I noticed a little blood in my shorts today and I suspect I might have started my periods but I thought I better make sure." He had rehearsed his piece and it came out with a rush. Dr Bryant asked some questions to see if there might be some other explanation but Justin insisted it was vaginal and not anal and that he hadn't suffered any injuries and, no, he couldn't recall any cramps - just what he needed, PMS! "Okay. Up on the table for a quick check then." For the first time that he could remember Justin was embarrassed to expose himself before the doctor. His earliest visits had involved a gentle fondling of his genitals and he could only remember one time when that hadn't been part of his check up; it was just something he associated with going to the doctor. Today his shorts contained a carefully folded wad of toilet paper which was only just managing to sop up the flow. Fortunately the doctor just disposed of it in her private bathroom and washed his skin without commenting. It was bad enough trying to help girls who had "shy" mothers but for a boy??? "No signs of any other problems. You were right; Now ... what do we do about it?" Sue Bryant had already considered the more drastic options for someone in Justin's predicament and had ruled them out unless absolutely necessary. She felt surgery was a last resort; Justin could still decide he preferred living as a she some time in the future. Similarly, hormonal treatment to make his body think it was pregnant was fraught with dangers since it could tip the fragile equilibrium it had achieved into unknown directions. While Justin, as far as she could tell, was coping psychologically with the issue there seemed little reason not to let nature take its feminine monthly course. Being realistic she went through all the options, weighing out the pros and cons for Justin and honestly telling him why she felt one or other was inappropriate. She had let her receptionist lock up and leave, which was fortunate since this would be no minor consultation. Justin had another issue he didn't want to voice; "How would any action taken affect Tina?" With no proof she existed he couldn't very well throw her onto the table and instead discussed how he would manage each month. She discussed pads and tampons, imagining she had a naive girl in front of her. It wasn't that hard to imagine as Justin did have the smooth facial lines and slender frame that would allow him to live as a girl should he ever choose that path. Neither would be fun to carry around at school; he could imagine the reception he would get if they were discovered. He supposed he could always play the innocent victim and demand to know who had put them in his kit. It was obvious though that pads would be impossible to conceal in the change room - tampons would be bad enough. It seemed that they were the logical choice except for one little thing. Justin was a virgin. It took him longer to raise the problem than it did for Sue to do something about it. "I can give you a local if you want but if you can put up with two or three little snicks it probably won't feel any worse." Justin trusted her and a few seconds and an "Ow!" later he had been physically deflowered. "Your hymen is still there but it won't get in the way now. I'll just put some cream on it to stop that bleeding and to help it heal but now you will just have to persevere until you are comfortable using the tampons." It was "over and above the call of duty" but realising Justin really didn't have the normal sources of information Sue helped him insert a slender cotton cylinder, explaining all the does and don'ts. "Take this packet and the cream with you and use these pads tonight inside a pair of underpants (she had almost said "panties") until your hymen settles. If you can get your mother to add tampons to her shopping list from time to time you should only need to carry one with you. You won't have regular dates when you start and stop for a while at least but you should have time to get home before you need to replace it. Have your mother call me if she has any problems. Okay?" "Okay." "Right. Now I want you to come and see me anytime you need to, even if it's just for a chat or information. I'll let my receptionist know you can book in at the end of any day and don't worry about paying. If you need to come earlier, just book a time like normal but it will be easier if we have time to talk without holding up other patients. While I don't want you abusing the privilege, no skipping classes for the sake of it, if you need to you can always get a certificate from me. Let me know if you do get cramps or if anything else happens." "Thank you Doctor." With more to think about and a great deal of gratitude, Justin gave her a hug and walked home where he had to decide just how to explain his late arrival and the additions to the grocery list. Over the next four months Bernie had ample opportunity to support her son as he learned, as all girls do, the trials of becoming a woman. It brought them even closer together. ----- FRIDAY WEEK 1 ============= Justin survived menarche and, with only the merest hiccups, so did his mother; Dad was left in the dark. But it wasn't only the female side of his body which was changing. His male side was churning out sperm and testosterone and his brain was filled with erotic imagery as he slept. The dream started in the middle of a sequence. Forget about beginning, middle, climax and conclusions; dreams often start around a conclusion and then quickly roll back until enough of a story line can unfold to explain how the conclusion was reached. A backfiring car in the street outside provides the gunshot for a complete Sam Spade adventure yet it must have been generated between perception and recognition. Similarly the release of pent up fluids from Justin's rapidly maturing body provided a real climax which was accompanied by the wildest "naked in school" fantasy where he finally had the girl he found most interesting naked beside him; just as their bodies joined and he exploded her visage change to Tina's. With a mess at his groin Justin woke only to find he had someone next to him. "Mmm. You can have dreams like that any time." Tina's flushed face couldn't be seen in the darkness but Justin sensed she had achieved a similarly pleasurable release. How long had she been there? "We didn't ...?" He half-hoped they had but then realised he would much prefer the reality in that case to the dream. "No. I got here just as you started to come. I must say it was interesting. It certainly felt stronger than mine." She had no words to adequately describe the differences (try to describe sweet and sour) though she may have been the only woman in the history of the world to have experienced both sides of the coin. It seemed an unfair exchange that Justin only got to find out about periods. "Will you wait here for me?" "I think so. Everyone's asleep." Justin quickly washed himself and returned with a fresh sheet. He swapped them and decided he would worry about the damp one in the morning. Leaving his soiled pyjamas with the sheet he covered Tina and climbed in next to her; their naked bodies touched. "Can I hold you?" Closer than anyone else could be they had never been particularly physical. "I'd like that." He put his arm around her and she snuggled into him. "Goodnight." He kissed the top of her head. "Goodnight." He felt her lips press against his chest. He hoped she would still be there in the morning. SATURDAY ======== To his dismay she wasn't but it turned out that she had simply had to sneak off to the bathroom. It was the first time she had been there but been apart from him and he was overjoyed both by her presence and by the hope that perhaps it would last. Tina had grabbed some shorts and a baggy T-shirt for her foray through the quiet house and shucked them before slipping her naked body back between the warm sheets. She gave him a kiss, "Good morning sleepy head", and rested on folded elbows next to him. They gazed into each other's eyes ... and grinned. Justin laughed and threw his arms around her, hugging her to him in absolute joy. "Thank you for being here." It was a Saturday so, other than having a few chores, Justin could do pretty much as he wanted. He considered and suggested they go for a walk together where they could talk in private. Each moment Tina was with him was precious to him since he never knew how long they had; he hadn't realised just how much her long absence had affected him. Once again they were of one mind and Justin hurried to use the bathroom himself. Tina unerringly went to his wardrobe and chose some clothes to wear. Since they were the same size there was no difficulty and she saw nothing unusual in donning boxer shorts. Though obviously girlish her chest didn't really require support so a T-shirt and loose sweater was ample. Her hair however was significantly longer than Justin's and she tucked it up under a borrowed cap to keep it out of the way. Justin returned and dressed in front of her as she sat beside him on the bed. As he bent over she gave him a playful whack on the rump and then had to fight him off when he attacked all the places he knew to be his own vulnerable points. "Enough!" she cried and when he stopped she gave him another big hug. Justin stood and turned quickly, embarrassed now by his hardening erection but Tina hadn't noticed and she simply sat up again while he finished getting ready. Justin knew his parents wouldn't be in a hurry to get up and figured they could be fed and out of there. His chores could wait until later. Knowing what too much cereal would do if Tina departed, Justin made one bowl and got two spoons. Tina sprinkled just the right amount of sugar while he poured a glass of juice. They shared both bowl and glass, taking the edge off their hunger without really satisfying it. "Oh shit!" Justin remembered his bedclothes. At some stage in the "boy to man" talks his parents had mentioned nocturnal emissions as a normal occurrence as his body changed. They would keep wet dreams low key to avoid embarrassing him provided he put the soiled objects in the laundry tub to soak. If was his first time and he had forgotten. He left Tina to finish off their breakfast and went back to his room to gather up his washing. He had just put them in the trough and turned on the water when he heard "Hello dear, you're up early" from the kitchen. He waited for the scream or sounds of a fainting body hitting the floor but all he heard was "Have you got the water running somewhere?" His mother could see Tina! It came as a relief that he finally had independent confirmation that he wasn't delusional and he was surprised that the doubt had floated there below his subconscious. He came alert and turned off the tap before the water rose too high and rounded to see his mother's puzzled face. "Justin?" "Yes Mum?" She turned to look down the corridor but the kitchen now appeared empty. "What?" Justin felt the sensation of fullness in his belly. "Oh no!" he thought. "Who?" She was looking back and forth now and no explanation Justin could offer would make sense. "Sorry", he indicated the trough. "I had to change my sheet last night." His mother sought the refuge of housekeeping mode. "That's all right. I'll see to them later. Thank you for looking after them for me." She followed him back into the kitchen, neither really wanting to check it out. "Please don't leave your clothes lying about like that honey." She was sure he had been wearing the discarded outfit when she had come out of her bedroom. "I must have still been asleep", she thought. "Sorry Mum." Justin gathered up the clothing and threw it on his bed before falling across it. "Oh Tina! Why can't you stay." His eyes watered and he had to find a tissue to clear the sudden blockage in his nose. His mother called quietly from the kitchen. "While you're up why don't you get an early start on those boxes in the garage? Just don't make too much noise." "Now why did he get two spoons dirty?" she added to the empty room. Justin had no reason now to put off the job so he headed out the back door. He was supposed to sort through a mountain of old gear that had been put to one side over the years. His mother had explained what she considered useful or of sentimental value, what could be recycled and what should be junked. They didn't mind if he erred on the side of caution as she or his father would double check the piles as they loaded the trailer, but they needed to recover some space and at least he would have done the donkey work. He made a start but had only looked through the first box when he sat down and put his head in his hands. He wasn't ashamed to cry. It was like having his grandmother die all over again. "Hey, don't cry. Things will be all right." He couldn't believe it. "Tina!" He jumped up and hugged the naked girl. "You're back!" "That's bloody obvious dopey. Can you get me some clothes? It's not exactly warm here." "Back in a sec." Tears forgotten he rushed inside and gathered up the recently discarded clothing. "Here you are." It seemed funny, and somewhat sexy, to see a girl donning boxers, especially as she bent away from him to slip her foot in. He resisted the impulse to return her swipe and once again he became aware of his penis stiffening. "Let's get this job finished so we can play." Justin couldn't agree more. With two sets of hands, high spirits and an ability to discuss doubtful cases together plus a major incentive, the job which was expected to take a couple of hours was finished in around forty minutes. With some sleight of hand to keep Tina concealed, Justin was able to convince his mother that the job had been done correctly; with an instruction not to be gone all day he was sent on his way with her blessing. He had forgotten footwear for Tina and she had to make do with a rather bulky pair of sneakers he found in the garage. They would be a bit heavy on her feet, thankfully the same size as his, but would look better on her than what he was wearing. They made their way to the park where they strolled along hand in hand. Tina had let her hair down and was now looking more feminine. "How come you could come back? I certainly wanted you there; and how come you didn't disappear when Mum saw you?" "I'm not sure exactly. I could sense you needed me and I really wanted to come. I liked being with you rather than just being you and all of a sudden I was in the garage. I've tried in the past but I've never seemed to be able to manage. I think it's because I remember being me more. Before I was only 'me' when I was here with you." "But you normally disappear when Mum comes around." "We talked about that before; it seemed to be a protective response but when she came into the kitchen and treated me like I WAS you I didn't feel threatened. At least until she found you as well. I'm sorry it made you sad." "That's over now. And it wasn't your fault anyway. We are like we are and there's not much we can do except to learn more about how we tick. I wonder if that's it; you're learning more about how to get here each time you come." "I could try to go and then try to come back." "No!" Justin clenched her hand in his. "Maybe later but I don't want to risk losing you." He thought it sounded a little clingy but he did enjoy her company and it had never been for long enough before. At least Tina was returning his grip. Tina was as reluctant to leave him and only sought to test the ability she now believed she could control. "Later sounds good enough but if I do disappear keep my clothes handy." "That's for sure. Don't forget that it's not always you that arrives naked. I could suddenly find myself naked with you holding the spares." Tina laughed with him at the image of a crowded mall and either of them in their birthday suits. "Just hope it doesn't happen after I've been wearing a dress!" Justin resolved to get a small backpack in which he could keep a spare set of clothes - just in case Tina dropped in. He dearly wished however, regardless of the complications it would cause, that she never again dropped out. "Do you think we should see what Doctor Sue can make of all this? Would seeing her make you disappear?" "I don't think so. She's nice and we have never felt threatened by her before. It would help if we could get someone else's ideas too and she's never betrayed our trust so far." That's true. Even her receptionist doesn't seem to know our story." The surgery wasn't far and there was an appointment free with only a little wait. "Justin Rogers?" He went in alone thinking it might be less of a shock than just turning up with his "twin". "How are you today Justin?" "Fit and healthy but I need to show you a change that has occurred." "Yes?" "You had better come with me. It's easier to show you; you're only going to want to check any way." He went to the familiar examination table and dropped his shorts before laying back on the sheet covered surface. "Where about am I looking?" "Can you please check whether there is anything unusual about my vagina Doctor." From any other of her male patients that would have been a most unusual request but Justin was her most unusual patient. Sue Bryant moved his balls for a clearer look then checked to see it was her unusual patient lying there. "It's gone! But ..." "I know. Can I get up?" With another quick look to reassure herself, Sue turned away to remove her rubber gloves. The case had been "different" before but now it was positively eerie. "I assume you have kept notes over the years I have been coming here; can I ask you to leave this out for the present?" "Can I ask why? Well of course I will anyway but I would like to know. "Please ask your receptionist to call for 'Tina'." The doctor knew of no Tina who should have any bearing on this case but did as he asked. Just before the door opened Justin warned her, "Please don't scare her." She was later to think what a masterful use of reverse psychology. Focussed on the girl's fear she had no time to be afraid herself. Justin walked through the door again. "Hello Dr Sue." Sue did a double take. Short-haired Justin patted her hand while long-haired Justin sat down on her other chair. "I'd like you to meet Tina. We've been companions for a long time but you're the first person to properly meet her. He smiled lovingly at the young girl. "You've heard people talk of their better halves? Well I certainly can't think of a more accurate description." "Is this some sort of joke?" "She did examine you, didn't she?" asked Tina. "Yes." "And?" "No vagina." Tina looked at the doctor, "A pretty good trick then, don't you think? I suppose I'd better follow suit." She stood and went to the examination table where she removed all her clothes and climbed up with her legs spread leaving both the others with a clear view. "Don't you want the screen?" "Believe me Doctor, I know that body like my own." It was a slight exaggeration but it distracted her as he led her over to the table. "You wanted to know where my vagina went? Well I must admit I think it looks much nicer in Tina and she'd be a bit incomplete without it. "You just don't want my periods any more!" "If it meant having you around more I'd put up with them four weeks a month." Sue felt isolated from the banter flowing around her. This morning her world had consisted of the known, the probable and the outright con; now it seemed to include the impossible as well. She had seen enough to know that Tina was apparently as female as Justin was now male. Sue eventually went back to her desk without speaking and sat looking at her notes. She heard their voices behind her. "Did you really mean that?" "If anyone knows when I mean something you do." The girl got up and hugged the boy, not at all concerned about her nakedness. Sue could only shake her head. Tina dressed and the teenaged couple, hand in hand, sat down in front of her again. "We know it's a lot to cope with and that you probably won't have the right questions to ask us until you think things over, let alone any answers to ours. We're sorry to throw this at you but you are the one person we trust to be at least reasonably objective about this; you've done a lot for us over the years, even if you did think it was only me." "Mum and Dad aren't going to see having a fifteen year old daughter rock up as an every day occurrence", Tina added. "And I have patients who discover they have fifteen year old twins every day?" At least Sue was smiling. She didn't know how objective she really could be; the whole situation was fantastic, intriguing and slightly scary all at once. "Sorry again", Tina apologised. "We didn't really know anyone else we felt able to talk to. When you helped me with my first period you seemed to take it all so calmly when I was sure Mum would have freaked out." "You were there then?" "Tina's been with me all along. It's only now and again that she has been able to be herself and that's what we eventually hope you can help us with." "I'll try." She addressed Justin, "Now at least I know why you wanted this off the record. Don't worry, this goes way beyond what would be believed. I don't want any written evidence that I'VE lost my marbles." She smiled at them. "Is that a medical term", Tina asked. "Oh! That reminds me; if Mum contacts you about hallucinating or anything like that you might consider placebos first." Tina returned Sue's smile without further explanation. "She's seen you?" "Yes and No. She thought I was Justin but I had to disappear." "Disappear?" Tina turned to Justin. "I think it's 'later'." Justin nodded and they stood and hugged. "Try to hurry back." He kissed her cheek. Tina turned to the Doctor. "It's been nice to meet you or rather I suppose it's nice that you have finally met me; I've known you for what seems like forever." "It has been nice to meeee... Oh!" It was as good as any stage magician could have wished for. Tina was gone with only the sudden movement of her clothes as they dropped to the ground. Justin started to fold them neatly, looking far sadder than he had been a few seconds ago. "Would you have a plastic bag I can put these in please?" It was the mundane nature of his query that broke the spell and Sue sought out an old shopping bag for him. "Is Tina still there? I mean can you talk to her?" "She can hear what we're saying but it is as though she is the one hearing it. I'm not aware of her until she comes along and then she remembers what has happened as though it was her living through it. When we are together she lives my life so she knows everything that happens until she comes along and then we live our own lives. There's one more thing you need to check." He simply dropped his trousers where he stood and took her hand. Placing it behind his balls he gently pushed her finger tip into the entrance of his vagina. Showing his sadness he dressed again and simply said, "I can tell straight away when she goes. I really would give anything to have her around all the time. Please think about it and we can talk about it when you want." "I'll do what I can but this goes beyond medicine - I may not have any answers." "I know but thank you anyway." Justin burst out crying and the doctor hugged him to her. He was more than her patient and she would do what she could for him; for them. Justin went home with his parcel leaving the receptionist to speculate firstly why two young teenagers were visiting the doctor together and secondly where the young girl had gotten to; when the doctor had called her next patient only the lad had left. She must have missed the girl but she couldn't see how. Had he gotten her into trouble and the doctor had then let her out the back so people had less chance to see them there? But what about the alarm on the back door? "Oh the youth of today", she thought. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Assassin Part: Chapter 23 of 27 Summary: Ass, sass and sin. A young assassin does more than befriend people when he tries to get close to his targets. Keywords: Mf-nosex, ff-nosex Language: English Copyright: 2009 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* I needed a cover story while I got close enough to a slippery bastard called Adam Pringle to make sure he didn't cause any more grief in the world. Somehow I ended up screwing my foster-sister Anna as well as two of her friends, Hailey and Rosalie. Somehow we all fell in love. *SOMEHOW* I've got to try and settle this mess without breaking too many hearts. ********************************************************* Bang! Bang! Bang! "Anna!? Are you in there?" "Huh?" Oops. You weren't supposed to actually answer him Sweetheart! "Open the door - now!" Doug seemed cross. I couldn't begin to imagine why. It was Monday morning and having put him and Ma on the alert after openly displaying our feelings, Anna and I had slept the whole night through after she had once again snuck into my bedroom. I picked up my boxers, noticed Anna's PJs and threw them to her before hopping across the room with one leg in and the other foot caught. I stepped out of the way as the door flew open immediately the snib had been released. "What do you think you're doing in here?" "If you give me a second - getting dressed." "Don't give me any cheek, Anna. You know this room is off limits to you. Being told you can see Roger isn't the same as sleeping with him. And you...!" I took another step back, mainly because it gave me room to *AVOID* hurting the man who had taken me into his home and who I was sure my girlfriend loved deeply. "If it helps sir - we did just sleep." "Yeah right - which is why my daughter is putting her pyjamas on under your covers and I'm pretty sure you've worn those all night - backwards. Ma poked her head in. She didn't look happy either but wasn't about to let anything happen or be said that would cause irreparable damage. "I want you two to get ready for school and come downstairs for breakfast. We will discuss your behaviour there. Come on Doug." She eased him out the door. I closed it quietly as they made their way downstairs. Anna looked strange. She was relieved at the issue of our sexual relationship being in the open - despite the actual absence of sex on this occasion - while at the same time being concerned over what her parents' reactions would be. Mainly she wanted to be held quietly for just a minute or two before the storm - me in my backward boxers and her in just her PJ pants. "I guess we blew it," she eventually offered. "I guess we were tired after all!" "I'm sorry. "I'm not. I love you Anna, and if your parents can accept that they're going to accept we were eventually going to have a physical relationship." "Will they accept we've been having one for a couple of weeks?" "Maybe we keep that to ourselves then." "I want to shower with you." "Is that wise?" Anna just shrugged. "Can't make things worse can it?" "I'll leave the door open then." "See you in a minute or so." We kissed, a little sadly, and Anna headed down the corridor, her top clutched to her chest in case Brent came out. I found myself admiring her back then went in to use the toilet before she returned. Anna slid in behind me as I stood under the shower. She put her arms around me and took the soap from my hand. "If either of us is Brent this is going to be awfully embarrassing," she quipped. I had already washed my front but Anna made doubly sure that everything was squeaky clean. "I don't want to get my hair wet this morning." I adjusted the shower rose and turned so the water was striking the middle of my back. Anna's fingers dug into my butt and she pulled my wet front against her dry body. "I could get used to this - do you think they'll let us? Or will this be the last time for anything? Could they send you away?" "They could I suppose but I wouldn't start worrying about that until they have had their say. However I don't think we should give them time to get upset again if they've calmed a little so let me wash you and then we should get dressed." Anna and I moved around and she leaned back against me as I soaped her breasts and pussy, even rejoicing in my hands rubbing the suds through her armpits and over her shoulders. "Oh yes, I *COULD* get used to this!" I knew I could too. --- We walked downstairs together with our schoolbags and left them ready by the front door. Anna had dressed in half her usual time and some of her haste showed. She just hadn't wanted me to be downstairs alone. Our plates were on the table and Ma came and sat with Doug once we'd taken our places. Brent must have been woken when we were but sensible avoided the coming crisis. "Eat!" Ma had spoken to Doug. She'd told him before that he wasn't going to have to be the bad cop to her good cop and intended to show she could be as tough as him. "We are both disappointed in the pair of you. We counselled you both to go slowly and to wait until you had your studies out the way and what did you do - jump into bed at the first opportunity." I tried to comment but Ma held up a hand to stop me. "You'll get your chance - it's my turn." I did the only thing I could - I kept eating. "I want to treat you as adults but I'm not sure you can behave that way. I want honest answers from you. Roger - have you and Anna had sex yet?" Doug seemed ready to pummel me regardless of how I answered but Ma must have told him - in her own way - to just sit down, shut up, and let her handle things. I looked her straight in the eye. "Last night, no; previously, yes." Doug stirred. "Why not last night?" "Quite honestly, we had both had a long day and were tired. We intended only cuddling but fell asleep." "And if you continue staying her, you two would go on having sex regardless of our feelings I suppose?" Anna picked up on the "if you continue". I put my hand over hers and she stopped just before she said anything. I think that amazed Ma and Doug as much as it did me. Anna was prepared to let me go into bat for both of us - though perhaps waiting in reserve as reinforcements might have been a better analogy. She did have more experience dealing with them and perhaps was aware when being quiet was a better strategy. "You might doubt us but we do love each other and we aren't careless about having sex. I'm sure we would both listen to any arguments you might make but I'm equally sure we wouldn't be able to promise not to have sex again unless we felt there was more reason than your wishes. Sorry." Anna was nodding beside me. "We need to think things over. You know we're not happy you both disregarded the rules you were given and we're not happy you run the risk of messing up your futures. Finish your breakfast and get ready for school - I'll drop you off and you'll be late if you don't hurry. We'll talk again tonight." Doug looked discontented. I guess he wanted to have his say now rather than later. Ma had convinced him that our school day would be disrupted enough as it was without the pair of us planning to run off together because he'd told me I would be leaving. My day was disrupted anyway since I no longer had a need to maintain it as a cover other than to avoid appearing out of character. I hoped my next job allowed me to be at least my true age if not a little older. Doug left; I was rather glad we weren't in his car this morning. I had to admire his restraint though. If my teenage daughter had been deflowered by a house guest I might have felt the need to do more than squeal my tyres. I stood and placed my plate and cutlery in the sink. Ma shooed me away, telling me once more to get ready. I think she found her own stress relief in washing them for me. Nothing ended up broken so I guess I had to admire her restraint as well. Anna indicated with her head that I was to leave her alone with her mother; I didn't think twice about eavesdropping though. "Are we still okay Ma? You and me?" "Of course Anna. That can't, or at least shouldn't, change. That doesn't mean I think you've been sensible." "I know you aren't happy but can you understand we are? I do love Roger and I know he loves me." "A few weeks ago he was taking other girls out. It's a sudden change to decide he only loves you. What if in another couple of weeks he decides he loves someone else; what do you do? And if you have a fight? You're both stuck here in this house together." "You and Dad don't always get along. You're stuck here just as much as we are. At least we've got you and Dad to knock our heads together if necessary." "You're lucky your father didn't do more than that this morning when you didn't answer from your room." "Ma?" "Yes?" "While you're thinking about what we are going to discuss later could I ask you to consider something?" "You can ask." "Is there any chance Roger could move into my room?" Ma took a long look at Anna. At least there was no sound of an explosion. "You really like to push your luck, don't you?" "Well I don't know what you are going to decide and I guess you and Dad are a bit unsure too. If you come down heavy then there's not much I can do about it. If you decide to accept our love then it seems silly for Roger and I to have separate rooms. "I don't think I will spring that on your father just yet but I will consider it. You're young Anna, as is Roger. Young to have a relationship that should be more than just a casual fling; *TOO* young to have one that ends up with you pregnant." "We *ARE* being careful Ma." "Careful isn't always enough." "Mmm. They make me feel so good though." Oh-oh! I thought. Ma thought her daughter meant orgasms rather than partners - fortunately. "There is more to a relationship than just sexual pleasure Anna. That is one of the things that you find out as you get older, as you have a chance to discover each other as people rather than as sex objects. You have to like someone before you can really love them and it takes time to find out a person's bad points as well as their good ones. That's the whole point of dating - to understand a person as a real person not just the image you first see. You take the time to find out if you want to give yourself to them before you take what should be a serious step." "While we didn't wait that long I didn't just have sex at the first opportunity. Roger is gentle, loving, considerate." "Lethal, secretive, deceitful," I added to myself then included one further item - "non-existent". "He cares for others - I had a chance to see that. Rosalee and Hailey see it in him as well; that's how come we get on so well together." "I don't doubt he cares for you. It's more a case of whether you care for each other in a few weeks time when the novelty of sex has faded a little and the reality of each other's faults begins to hit you both." "What faults?" "Does he snore? Do you fart in the mornings? Does he leave his dirty socks around the bedroom? Do you always insist on watching some inane sitcom when there is some documentary on? All sorts of things you might decide are far more important than they seem as I say them." "You complain Dad snores." "I'd complain more if he left his laundry around the room. Come on, you'll be late as it is." She raised her voice, "You ready Roger." I walked back into the kitchen after a slight pause. "Yes." Ma wasn't fooled. "You understand what I said?" "Yeah. I understand. I guess I've found life can turn out to be terribly short and when you find someone you feel is special it is hard to want to waste a minute of the time you could spend together." Ma looked more closely at me. I guess I wasn't sounding like a seventeen year old. "In the car then and try not to think about this all day." I barely heard her mutter the rest, "That's what I'll be doing. --- We separated with a hug and Anna's "Sorry I got you into this mess" followed by my laugh. "Anna, my loving Sweetheart. I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather be in this mess with. We'll survive it - if we survive first period - scoot!" I got to my home room just before the teacher who didn't try to interrupt those who were busy discussing the tragedy and asking if I'd heard about Kyra and Mark. "Yes but not the full story. Does anyone know how it happened?" I heard five versions in two minutes before Ms Aster called us to order. "You are probably aware that we lost two of your classmates over the weekend in tragic circumstances." There was a sob from somewhere behind me. 'We have some people coming this morning to talk to us generally and then to those of you who knew Kyra and Mark Pringle well or who feel the loss. Don't feel embarrassed to show emotion; there is nothing wrong with caring for your friends." They meant well but it was to be the start of a L-O-N-G day! Lunchtime, Anna sought me out and we held each other in the presence of my classmates. Hugging wasn't normally permitted but a few people had gone home - either legitimately distressed or taking advantage of the excuse to get out of classes. Those that remained were sometimes weepy and their friends gathered around to support them. This inevitably involved bodily contact that was not sexual. Anna started by asking if I was okay. The lower classes had limited if any contact with the deceased and were counselled more generally. They had been told to be sensitive to our needs and how some of us might react with denial and later anger before we could grieve properly. Anna wondered whether that was the reason I had been so calm yesterday. "I'm sadder today I guess. It took me a little while to deal with my mother's death; my fathers didn't affect me as much. I guess when you've been through it before it is easier to accept especially if you've only spent a few hours with them." "You've only spent a few hours with me," Anna pointed out. "Most filled with a lifetime of love. I would grieve heavily for you if you were to be taken from me." I got rib-crushing proof that my death would have a similar effect on Anna. Those who had seen me with Kyra thought Anna was supporting me. We didn't kiss and fooling around in any way at school was only going to make matters worse at home if we were discovered so that wasn't going to be a consideration. I even consoled one of the guys who had broken down, but in the way of guys on campus - patting his back, holding his shoulder, telling him that it was okay to show his emotions and that, today, no-one would think any less of him. --- School was out and Anna turned up at the entrance shortly after I sat down to wait on the wall bearing the name of the school. "Oh well, on to the slaughter." I stood and we set out for home. "Do you really think so? Ma seemed somewhat uncertain whether to kill us or marry us off." Anna suddenly looked at me with surprise in her eyes. I'd said the "M" word which she considered totally ridiculous. Of course I hadn't made any suggestion - we were only at High School and had only known each other for a total of four weeks at about this hour. Anna might have been romantic enough to consider how "Anna" and "Torrent" went together but she was realistic enough to know that the things her mother had said about getting to know each other were quite valid. If I'd proposed she would have said wait. If I'd asked her to run off with me she might have gone without thinking twice. "If they say it's okay would you like to share my room?" Anna had been thinking about the possibility all day and while she liked the idea she wondered if it had been the right thing to talk to Ma before raising it with me. "It would be a bit crowded but I'd love to wake up next to you every morning." "I'd ask Ma and Dad for a bigger bed." "Does that mean I'd have to help get it up the staircase? Hmm, can I reconsider??" "Though Rosalee and Hailey would spit chips when they found out." "Well if we kept my bedroom as it is I could sleep back there and you could invite them over for the night." "I was actually thinking they'd be envious of me getting the bulk of your time." "You don't think they are envious of me too?" "Not as much. We have fun and I love them and would welcome them to stay with me but I really do love you best and I think they feel much the same way." "You must all hate me as well then for not choosing." "No. You've chosen - just not what any of us would prefer but possibly the best choice in the circumstances. If you move in I think Hailey and Rosy will worry you will end up letting convenience make a second choice and I don't want that. You will have to find a way to share your nights with them as well somehow." "You don't want to make things too easy for me, do you?" "Nope! But you've got bigger problems than that." "Like what?" "Like I did sleep well last night so I'm going to be able to keep my eyes open tonight. I might just require you to work out how we can make love properly when Ma and Dad are determined to keep us apart." She pulled me closer and I paused to kiss her in the middle of the footpath. --- Ma was home and suggested we get any homework out of the way before Doug got home. She planned to talk further with him before our next family meeting and gave us no clues as to what the agenda held. We were getting started, firing up the word processor and getting refreshments to share when the doorbell rang and then rang again. Ma was out the back and Anna was partway up the stairs so she turned around to answer it. I heard her say "Rosy" and then "What's the matter?" I left my books and hurried downstairs. Rosalee was in Anna's arms, her face buried in Anna's shoulder and she was sobbing. I joined them and Rosalee cried out "Roger!" and grabbed me without letting go of Anna. "What *IS* the matter?" "My father," she managed. "He's gone a bit crazy." We held her while she caught her breath again; the emotion, added to her hurried pace getting here, had made it difficult for her to talk. "Our neighbour, Mr Fletcher from last night, told my Dad that I was kissing you in the park and then he must have seen me when I opened the curtains. He told Dad about that as well and when I got home he went mad at me. He called me names and hit me." I noticed the redness across the front of Rosalee's cheek. She must have dodged the bulk of the slap or punch but it would still have hurt. I was angry but not foolish enough to go and confront him. Other than satisfying me, and convincing him that it wasn't good to be on the receiving end, I didn't think it would accomplish much. "He said he knows we've been sleeping together. I think he's gone through my bedroom but there wasn't anything there that I could think of but a condom I kept as a souvenir." We must have looked at her strangely since she added. "It hadn't been opened!" I guess adding one and one and one together and getting ten when ten *WAS* closer to the right answer than three wasn't too unusual in the circumstances. "Then he said he was going to kick me out but not before I got the thrashing I deserved. I ducked out the front door while he was taking his belt off and came here. I'm sorry." "Hey, don't worry. We'll sort it out." "But I've spoilt everything." "No you haven't!" I lifted Rosy's chin and pressed my lips to hers. Anna was still hugging Rosalee from the side and kissed her cheek; Rosalee left my mouth and turned to kiss Anna instead. Their lips parted and tongues collided - as Ma came out of the kitchen. "What!?" The two girls broke apart. "Rosalee is having some problems with her parents that make ours look like they're nothing," I advised Ma. "She came here seeking our help and support." "You've got problems?" Rosalee looked at Ma and then back to myself and Anna. "I fell asleep in Roger's bed last night and my Dad found me there this morning. Ma and Dad know Roger and I have had sex and we are supposed to sort it out tonight." "Oh. I should go then." "Don't be silly!" I caught her and drew her back against me. "Where would you go? Hailey's?" "We're not letting you go until we've sorted things out at the very least," Anna agreed. "Come on through to the Family Room." Anna led us with Rosalee's hand in hers while my arm remained around Rosalee's waist. Ma overtook us and snagged a place where she could watch us on the three- seater. She could understand us hugging Rosalee but that was definitely a kiss she had witnessed and not just a friendly one. Our whole attitudes had been of concern though and she would deal with that issue first. Rosalee sat between Anna and myself, drawing on us both for strength as she leaned against me and linked forearms never releasing Anna's clasped hand. We all looked at Ma when she started. "Okay, start with what Rosalee's problems are and we'll see if they are quite as insurmountable as you imagine." Rosalee looked back and forth between us. She didn't really want to be the one to speak lest she say something we wanted kept quiet. From her own point of view it didn't seem like things could get any worst but she felt she could, quite likely, screw up whatever peace Anna and I had established with Ma. Anna spoke up instead. "When we were coming back from Hailey's house last night we stopped at a park near Rosalee's for a few minutes and..." "Why?" "For a kiss and a cuddle." Ma didn't say "I see" because at that time she felt she didn't see anything clearly. "Go on." "Rosalee's neighbour was walking his dog and saw us. He recognised Rosalee and told her father. He over- reacted." Well compared to Ma and Doug this morning, he certainly had! "How come?" Rosalee spoke up. "He only saw me and Roger there, so Dad thought the worst." "Well we'll just explain to him that it was Anna and Roger kissing." Something in our expressions told her that this wouldn't suffice. "Okay, what is the rest then?" "When they dropped me off I went to my bedroom to say goodbye again - they were outside my window - the same neighbour saw me with the curtains open and told my Dad as well." "And that would upset him how?" I broke the growing silence. "Rosalee wasn't exactly dressed." "Oh." There was a pause. "And you are used to that?" "It wasn't the first time I've seen her." Ma looked to Anna, looked at how *SHE* was drawing as much strength from Rosalee's presence as the other girl was getting from her daughter. "You too?" Anna nodded and Ma settled herself back into her chair to compose herself. "You make a habit of showing yourself off young lady?" She didn't ask nastily; Ma knew putting unexpected pressure on a weak point often made it leak or collapse completely. It might have been unfair on Rosalee but Ma wanted to be sure she had the full story, not dribs and drabs. Ma knew *SHE* wouldn't abuse any private information that came out but she couldn't help if we kept vital information from her. "No!" Rosalee didn't want Ma to think badly of her - or to go psycho like her father. "Only when there were the four of us." Rosalee had forgotten the people at the park and had also slipped up by indicating there had been one extra present. I didn't consider that important since Ma would have soon realised Hailey had been present with us on almost every occasion. "Hailey too. Should she be here as well?" "I don't think so," I answered. "Rosalee's mother will eventually talk to Hailey's mother I suppose but I don't think there is an urgent need to disturb her." "Her dad seems calmer than mine - I don't think he'd hit her but her mother might yell a bit." Ma didn't ask *WHY* Hailey should be in as much trouble as Rosalee and accepted that there had been some incidental violence but that seemed a side issue when Rosalee appeared physically sound for now. "Look I think this has gone past the situation where I can just say 'Okay Roger and Anna have had sex - let's work it out.' There has obviously been a lot more happening though how you managed to get in such a mess in such a short time is beyond me - unless it's been going on before Roger arrived?" She looked at her daughter's hand still in Rosalee's. "Normally I'd accept the situation and say the details were your private business but I think we are in damage control and I want to know exactly what we are facing - I not about to let things blow up any further if I can help it. So, who's going first? Roger?" "When we went up to the national park for a swim we found quiet spot and went skinny dipping together." "That must have made you happy! One young man with three young girls." "Three very attractive young women. And yes I was." "And?" "We got friendly. I assume you don't want *ALL* the details?" "So you had sex then? Or did that come later?" "We had sex." "You and who else at that stage?" "No Ma. *WE* had sex." Anna cuddled Rosalee's bicep with her other hand. "It's not all about Roger." So the kiss had been significant. "Uh huh." Ma looked at me, "You *MUST* have been pleased with yourself.' "Don't blame him Ma. I wanted to and I'm glad I did. I love Rosy and Hailey as well and I'm pretty sure they feel the same way about me." Rosalee smiled and pressed her lips to Anna's cheek. Hailey was going to go into shock when she heard everything was out in the open. "You seem to be keeping awfully calm," I suggested to Ma. "It's that or explode I guess. I don't know how many shocks you can take in the one day and still have the energy to react to the next one." "Can I suggest we sit in the kitchen and have a coffee?" I knew Rosalee's earlier distress had eased and had enough Psych to appreciate the usefulness of day-to-day distractions and operations; holding a warm coffee cup gave you something to focus on other than the crisis - unless you ended up throwing it at a wall or person. I handed out the coffee cups and took my place. Ma was at one end of the table, Anna and Rosalee along the side by the wall and I faced Anna, sitting beside Ma. "I've got two questions, at least for starters. I don't know how you could consider having sex in a public park to be acting responsibly! People could have come along and what did you do about precautions?" "It was secluded. A couple did pass through but we knew they were coming." "So, what then? You hid, or you got dressed again?" Anna answered her mother. "We just enjoyed the sunshine and spoke to them as they passed through." "While you were naked!?" "They were nudists. They didn't care. There are whole families up there." Ma realised that I wouldn't have been likely to know where to go to find a nudist area and let that matter lie. "And protection?" "I had condoms in my pack." "So you went there intending to have sex!?" "I knew there was a chance - a very good chance, true - but it was a days outing together." "And you girls expected to have sex or was that a surprise?" "I planned to." Ma looked at Rosalee with some amazement. "I hoped to", Rosalee amended. "I wanted Roger to be my first." Ma looked at Anna. "I certainly hope he was yours!" "He was and I really, really am glad he was Ma." Ma shook her head; her little girl wasn't being seduced so much as being a willing participant. There were conflicting emotions; joy that her daughter found sex a satisfying, happy pastime rather than being introduced to it as a painful one-sided experience; fear that it had happened when she was far too young and likely to stuff up her life; and discomfort at the disturbing group and bisexual nature of her daughter's carnal activities. Ma also felt that she wasn't reacting as strictly as she felt a parent should. "So you and Roger had sex - who else Roger? Did you have sex with the others there as well?" Rosalee was beaming with the memory and I smiled across at her as well. I don't think Ma needed an answer. "Mrs. Jamieson, we all made love together. We know it's odd; we know we are probably going to have problems. We are young but we're not stupid - though I guess I at least do stupid things sometimes." "Crazy, not stupid love", I told Rosalie. "Yeah, well we do love each other and I guess we decided we'd rather be together sharing that love while it lasted than missing out because we couldn't bear to see Roger making another one of us happy. There has been a fair bit of sex - unfair on Roger at times - but we have had other good times together as well. I'm in the shit at home and I don't know what is going to happen but I don't regret my time with Roger and Anna and Hailey one little bit." "Thank you", I told her. It was rather daunting to be told that someone felt a couple of weeks with you was worth a break with her family and an uncertain future. Anna gave her a kiss on the cheek and then, making it clear to her mother that she was Out and intended staying Out (at least in her own home), she kissed Rosalee properly on her mouth. I looked at Ma. She seemed proud of Anna in addition to having to deal with all the other issues. I touched her hand. "I had a friend who was a lesbian," she admitted. "She was just a friend - it was never my scene - but I learned a lot from her about the courage a person can show when necessary. I think you probably all have that courage and it *MAY* turn out to be necessary. Rosalee was right about one thing though - you've all been crazy! *AND* Doug and Brent are going to be home expecting to eat soon." She stood and I stood as well. "I guess the least I can do is help see it's ready then." Anna stood as well and Rosalee asked "Can I help?" There were jobs for us all. If Ma noticed a knuckle brushing across a cheek or fingers smoothing hair; a hand on another's arm or a cheek resting between shoulder blades, she said nothing. Anna put her arms around her mother's waist as she stood behind Ma. "Thank you for putting up with us Ma. I love you." "You haven't got any more surprises to drop in my lap though, have you?" I kept quiet. I was still to find out what my exit strategy would be. I *SHOULD* update those with a Need- To-Know about the current situation though it was likely someone would have seen Rosalee arrive in a distressed state. It might be better to wait a little longer so I would have further information one way or another regarding Rosalee's plight but then again, if I gave them a Heads Up they could get that for me. I figured I had earned a dressing down when I fronted my superiors - not for actually building a harem but for letting others see us in a situation where conflict was inevitable. One incident, sleeping in, might have been forgiven, as would the park bench if it had been my sole inadequacy, but combined with Rosalee's peep show - which I couldn't have prevented - I had three strikes against me in the course of twelve hours. Now Ma was wondering what else would land on her plate - and I, or rather Roger, could even end up dead. While that might simplify some of her problems, I doubted she would like the resultant headaches or heartaches that it would cause. "Ma, can I have a word please." I had waited until Rosalee had gone to the bathroom and Anna was changing out of her uniform. Ma put what she was doing aside and turned to me. "I can guess - there's more." "Not exactly. I was thinking we don't know what's happening at Rosalee's house. I realise I'm not going to be welcome there but I thought I could have a quick look from a distance and then let Hailey know discretely. I'd only be gone about half an hour." "*NOW* you start asking for permission and for my opinion! I really don't know Roger. You are a lovely boy - too lovely it seems - but you're like the calm centre of a hurricane leaving destruction all around you. Go on and *DON'T* get into any more trouble if at all possible." I gave Ma a kiss on the cheek and said, "It might be the wrong time, but I think you're rather special too." "You won't get around me *THAT* easily. We still have some serious talking to do - and I hope you're not trying to add me to the notches on your bed post." "I respect you and Doug too much to do that." "But not enough to leave our daughter alone?" "Some things happen unexpectedly - like falling in love." "Three times!" "I'd suggest you love Doug, Brent and Anna. Is it that much of a difference?" "In terms of how that love is expressed, I'd say yes. I've never *BEEN* in love with more than one person at any one time." She waved me out the door. "Dinner will be ready soon after you are back so don't delay." I scooted. I also had my phone out and was changing the chips as I jogged. Not the easiest combination of tasks. "Meet 2 now." "Clear 2 now." The line went dead. It was Jane again. I got in beside her. Security was lessened now I'd dealt with the principal but this was still a minor breach of the rules. "How are things with Hubby?" "Good. I told him if you could look after three or four young birds he'd better be able to keep one old bird happy or I'd be trading him in." "And how did he take that?" "I'm smiling aren't I? *AND* I've still got my wedding ring on." "Congratulations." "And commiserations from me. What's blown up in your face? Young Rosy looked upset." "There's more." I explained briefly about being found with Anna and then the details as Rosalee had described them. "Has there been any news about an exit?" "I think they were getting you off the foster books by having an adult cousin claim you. That would see you sent on and able to disappear in transit - runaway and then never got back to your girlfriend." It was a believable scenario with the possibility of me phoning to say I was alive and would return once I was legally an adult. If I couldn't stay I didn't have to cut *ALL* ties. "At least I'm not a DOA. That would have crushed them." "What do you need?" "A quick drive-by past Rosy's house for now - I've also got to speak to Hailey - then to see if you can put an ear on Rosalee's father especially and find out whether Rosalee can go home. See how her mother's dealing with things and if we have an angle we can use." "That's personal Roger - you know that." "It's as a result of the job - and I acknowledge it's my responsibility. If I have to cover it I will." "Fifty Gs or more! You *MUST* love her." "More than fifty Gs worth at least." "Why not just give her old man twenty Gs to take her off his hands? Damaged goods and all, he might take ten." I didn't take offence. If I thought it would work and could readily explain the money I would consider it. What I didn't expect was the pile of clothes on the lawn. I suspected Rosalee's father was not bluffing or perhaps was fuelled by enough Dutch courage not to think through his actions. Still Mrs. Lafayette hadn't brought them back in - or at least enough of them to make a dent. One or two curious neighbours - including a satisfied looking Mr Fletcher - were doing household tasks where they could observe any further episodes in the saga. We drove to Hailey's and I got out around the corner. "Thanks. Please let me know ASAP if you have anything useful or if there is a problem." "There won't be - I owe you one for Hubby." "I don't know that I did anything." You provided him with an example and a challenge. See you Roger." "Thanks Jane." --- Hailey was in her room doing her homework and she looked up in surprise. She looked at her door and decided she should close it. The window opened seconds later. "What's up? Why didn't you come to the door?" "Rosalee's parents haven't phoned yours?" "No. Why? What's happened?" "A nosy neighbour sent Rosy's father off the planet. He was going to hit her and I think she's been evicted." "Oh my god. Where is she? *HOW* is she?" "She's safe with Anna. She was upset but has calmed down and wasn't actually harmed. Of course she doesn't know her clothes are spread outside her house. "Shit! What is she going to do?" "That's still to be determined?" "Do you need me?" "Rosalee was more concerned her mother would cause problems for you by calling your parents." "How for me?" "The neighbour told her father she'd been fooling around with me in a park near her house - it was actually with Anna but I doubt that would make the least bit of difference." "It would only make things worse." "We figure since they knew I'd taken you out as well they might 'warn' your parents." "Yeah, that could happen. I doubt they'd do more than question me. We haven't been seen together doing anything. They are likely to want to stop me seeing you though. I wonder if it would be better to get in first - to tell them our version of the story and see if my mum can calm Rosy's down and maybe from there work on her father." Hailey would have to "find out" about Rosalee first though. I decided after some brief consideration that I would have to see if I could take her back with me. "Be surprised when you're called to the door but assume it is a pleasant visit." "Okay." I went back out to the street and approached the front door as if I'd just arrived. "Hello Roger. It is a school night you know." "Yes I'm sorry. Is it okay if I speak to Hailey?" "Sure. Come in. *HAILEY*!" My lover came out of her room and met me with a hug. "Can't stay away from me, huh?" "I wish that was it." "Why? What's up?" "Rosalee turned up at Anna's. She was rather upset and has had some sort of argument with her father." "Oh my gosh! Is she okay?" "Anna and her mother are looking after her but they thought she'd appreciate your presence, if that's okay?" I turned to Hailey's mother. "Yes, if you want to. I wonder if I should give Ellen a call?" Hailey vetoed that suggestion. "Why not wait until I've had a chance to speak to Rosalee. It may only be something trivial and they might be embarrassed to think their squabbles are being discussed throughout the neighbourhood. I won't be late and if it is serious perhaps you can help them understand Rosalee's side or at least get them to listen to it." It made sense to Mrs. Draper and she sent Hailey off with the proviso that she call for a lift home if there was no-one to bring her. "Your father will have the car home soon and I don't want you walking the streets late at night even with Roger." We left before Mrs. Draper realised Hailey hadn't had her dinner and headed straight to Anna's house which meant Hailey also missed seeing Rosalee's clothes. We walked fairly quickly but not so fast that I couldn't warn her of the final surprise. "We've talked to Anna's mother - and in the course of it have admitted that I have made love to both you and Rosalee. Once Rosy and I had been identified there wasn't much way to deny you and I were lovers too." "She won't tell my parents, will she?" "Not unless that would solve some worse problem." "I don't think my parents would consider there could be a worse one." "How would they feel about you, Anna and Rosalee being lovers too? Ma knows that as well. If we were going to help Rosalee she needed us to be honest and I think she's actually more in favour of letting us find our own solution than in having me castrated - though it may be close." "So why am I going with you exactly?" "Because there may be flow on effects once your mother and Rosy's get to talking and I think that, if nothing else, entitles you to a say in what goes on. The fact that you are our love as well as our lover means that we want your input, support, love or just patience." "And you're sure the others will feel the same way?" "I'm not sure how much Ma will have told Doug so keep things cool until we've reconnoitred." "Reconnoitred!? Rather GI-Joe aren't you?" "Didn't you know he was a lover as well as a fighter?" "Not unless his mould has been updated. The last one I saw looked like a muscular Ken - or Ken on 'roids. Barbie might even prefer him to her prick-less boyfriend." "Well the last time I saw her, she had gravity defying tits *WITHOUT* nipples and a waist that you could see around - both sides at once!" "Yeah, she's not as lucky as me; a boyfriend with something special between his legs and working parts of my own that match them. What on Earth did Mrs. Jamieson say when she heard you'd had sex with all three of us!?" I was used to topic swings by now. "I think she was still in shock from Anna answering her father from my room this morning. She had to put her PJs on under the covers while he was in the room making fun of me wearing my boxers back to front." "He was in a good enough mood to joke?" "Sarcasm doesn't need a cheery disposition. It was evidence we had been naked together which, as far as he was concerned, proved that we'd been having hot sex all night." "And hadn't you been?" "We had a quiet, uneventful evening in each other's arms and dropped off to sleep." "I'd say 'what a waste' except I wouldn't mind dropping off to sleep and waking in your arms. It might be a while before you get to do that with Anna again though." "Actually Anna asked her mother if I could move into her room. It's under consideration." "Shit, Anna's got guts. Was this before of after Rosalee turned up and you all played Jerry Springer?" "Well before." I had to laugh; it really did sound like some cheap TV show. Jerry would have had the three girls ignorant about each other though - at least until they came out from the sound-proof booths to scratch out each other's eyes - or mine. I found the front door unlocked and prepared to open it for Hailey. We were alone for a second and I took the time to give Hailey the greeting kiss that we had missed out on before. "I'll give you a better one later if we survive." "I'll collect it even if you're dead." *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Assassin Part: Chapter 21 of 27 Summary: Ass, sass and sin. A young assassin does more than befriend people when he tries to get close to his targets. Keywords: Mf-nosex, ff-nosex Language: English Copyright: 2009 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* Getting close to a slippery bastard like Adam Pringle involved me befriending his children, making him think I was screwing his daughter while making sure he didn't find out I was also screwing her twin brother. Building a cover story somehow had me also screwing my foster-sister Anna as well as two of her friends Hailey and Rosalie. Fortunately I *DIDN'T* fall in love with the Pringle twins. Unfortunately... ********************************************************* Sunday Morning Knock! Knock! Knock! "Anna! Wake up!" "Okay Ma. I'm up." She was also beside me on the floor. I hadn't woken during the night as I would customarily have done. "I'll just get Roger moving. Breakfast in ten." I gave Anna a kiss and headed naked out the window and across the roof, hoping none of the neighbours were watching. "Ma?" I heard Anna behind me as I ducked under the intervening windows. "Do you know if my blue bra is in the laundry?" Good girl! Anna was on the ball. I dove into my room and pulled my shorts on. Before Ma was halfway down the corridor I was approaching her and entering my bathroom. "Morning Ma." "Good morning Roger." I could see her appraising my body - I was only clad in my boxer PJs. I was fit and, even with the age difference, must have looked good to Ma. I didn't realise that the marks on my back were as prominent though. --- At breakfast Ma was attentive to both of us but when we continued on about Hailey and Rosalee at the bowling alley we must have confused her more. I had openly spoked to Ma about feeling something for Anna but I had also said I felt something for Rosalee and Hailey as well. Since we tended to be all together when we went out it must have difficult for Ma to imagine, not *HOW* I got the marks but who gave them to me. I doubt she got anywhere near the truth. I filled two water bottles and threw them into a small backpack with some snack bars. We didn't really have anywhere special to go - it was more a chance to spend some quality non-sexual time together. We walked towards the river and the bridges I had crossed a few times in my nocturnal excursions. Once out the front door we held hands, no longer concerned if Ma was watching out the windows. It was still cool and Anna snuggled up beside me after a couple of blocks and wondered if she dared suggest sleepovers with the others. She was quite conscious that I would not be welcome at the other houses on such a basis and even sneaking into Hailey's again would be near impossible. I pointed out that Ma would probably consider it more favourably if there were a special holiday involved and Anna started counting through they year. "If you are getting together that often you are going to get caught eventually. What are you going to say?" Anna didn't pick up any implication that I would be absent from my question. "Yeah, well you and I are kind of natural; thrown together by circumstance, immediate predictable dislike turning to love..." "I've never disliked you Anna." "Yeah well I guess I was only miffed when I thought you were a peeping tom - and I wasn't good enough to hang around for." "I did look in - you were reading." "I'm glad you did." "I'm glad you caught me. We might have lost so much time if I'd had to get up the nerve to say anything to you." "Or Rosalee or Hailey would have stolen your heart. I hate the idea of you falling for both of them and not for me - now I know what I would have missed." "I know I would have been worse off." Anna unerringly jumped back to the point of our conversation where I had interrupted her. "I don't know how I could explain Rosalee and Hailey. I'd love Ma and Dad accepting them but even one girl lover would be pushing it - two plus you!? I don't think so." "And I don't see us convincing three separate sets of parents that I'm only interested in *THEIR* daughter. Not before we are old enough to go our own way." "That seems years away." There was a small park by the side of the path - a little area really only big enough for walkers to take a rest in pleasant surroundings. We stopped and sat. "Anna you had first call on my affections and, though you don't have all my heart now, you have a pretty big chunk of it. I don't know where life if going to take us but whenever I am able to stand on my own feet you can count on me checking to see how things stand between us before I approach anyone else. I loved you first, I hope to love you always." It was a promise I hoped I would be able to keep as well. If I left and worked for another five years then I could well come back and speak to Anna, then to Rosalee and finally to Hailey. I would be able to see just what time had wrought. If they had no new love and still felt for me I would be there unless I had changed myself. Then I could at least offer honest closure. If they felt for each other I should be able to support us all. If any or all of them had changed their feelings for each other but not for me then I would need to make some awkward decisions. Perhaps by then I would have the necessary additional maturity not to make them too painful. Surely no future decision could be as bad as having to leave them now. I know it sounds stupid that we felt that way after only a couple of weeks but at sixteen you fall heavily when you fall in love - there is nothing to compare it with. I guess at nineteen I was no different from the girls, not having had much affection before. Even Ma had shown me as much affection as my own mother had given me during my early years and much more than the later ones. I didn't get hugs and kisses but at least they sincerely looked out for my best interests. Was it any wonder that I did fall for those who did shower me with hugs and kisses as well? So what about Kyra and Mark? They had been equally attentive, indeed affectionate. Was I so attuned to the job that I could compartmentalise my life? I felt I had. I had approached friendship and sex with the Pringle twins as a necessity; the same with Anna, Rosalee and Hailey was by contrast sheer pleasure. On the seat in the park Anna sat on my lap with her arm around me. We kissed as boyfriend and girlfriend rather than as lovers and it was fun. We had jumped right past the level of uncertain beginnings to lusty explorations. We had still had our uncertainties but none had been the "does she/he want me to kiss him/her" dilemmas of teen dating. We didn't go back quite that far but rather explored the stage where we knew we both wanted to kiss but weren't about to push the boundaries further - yet. The big advantage we had then was that neither felt awkward about kissing; neither of us was worried we had to touch one another or if we didn't touch in other than a friendly way. The disadvantage as I saw things was that most young couples setting out had a future. Even if I returned in five years I wasn't optimistic. I wasn't going to spend my last days with Anna, hours perhaps, regretting that they were the last. That would only waste the time we had. I held her against me and let my lips explain exactly how much I loved her. "I wish we had somewhere we could go. I don't mean right now, though that would be nice. I mean where we could be together and Rosalie and Hailey could either visit or stay with us." I thought of the Pringle's Hacienda. I really would have to find out whether it was going to be available. If my exit strategy allowed me to return then I liked that property as a base. It would be one way that my time with the three girls need not end. But I couldn't say anything to Anna, not yet, perhaps not for years, maybe never. That didn't mean we couldn't make plans together that would describe "what if?" "Well then, suppose I had a nice house, maybe with a stable and enough land to ride on - do you like horses?" "I haven't had much to do with them but I think they are beautiful animals." "You can muck out the stables then." "Thanks.' "Well we'll have the house plenty big enough for guests - it has a lovely big spa and it's located far enough from anyone that you don't have to worry about neighbours noticing if you are naked when you sunbathe or soak in the spa or even ride the horses." "That sounds perfect - perhaps a little expensive though." "In that life we can afford it. With room enough for Rosalee and Hailey, could you live with them?" "Is that a condition?" Anna was serious now. "No I was just wondering how you felt." "I like being able to go to sleep with you; I really like being able to wake up with you. I know if the others were there they would have good reason to expect to share those moments as well. The chance to spend the night with each of them would be pretty neat as well though so maybe I wouldn't miss you quite as much." "I don't think they would like missing out on the times *YOU* and they spend together. I think that while the four of us certainly have fun all together we need to have some "just us" time too." "I know I value it, but you are talking like we can make it happen." "If we don't try, it won't. I'm willing to try - how about you?" "You know I will." "All we have to do is convince six parents that it is a good idea." "Yeah, *ALL*!" We'd spent about half an hour walking and another thirty minutes sitting while an occasional person, couple or group went by. Most just nodded and one older couple scowled at us being so forward in public! I suggested we move on and Anna stood. She made her own suggestion that I'd got her to shift because my legs needed some relief from her weight. I offered to let her sit there again until we had to return home instead. "No. I like walking with you too." We followed the river for a couple of kilometres and took the track away from the water when the path branched. It led to a small shopping centre and a burger outlet. We entered and I gave Anna a couple of dollars and suggested she get a drink for us to share while I used the men's room. It was empty - I checked as soon as I entered and while I was using the urinal another customer came in. "5 for 5 plus a cook." I showed no sign I'd heard him as he headed into the stall. Oh well, a cook who stayed overnight rather than Julia. It was one less matter to concern me. There was nothing about the circumstances; no suggestion the family had been caught unawares as they slept or had been struggling to escape. I would hear that soon enough. I rejoined Anna. She was overjoyed to be sitting with me in public, able to cuddle and even to share the restrictive sort of kiss that wouldn't have us asked to leave. I had been aware of the presence of some of her friends and classmates (and some of mine) before we had opened the door. Now I noticed her subtle glances around the room checking that those we knew were aware of the physical signs of affection that were passing between us. I didn't have the heart to even suggest it no longer mattered if her parents knew all. Anna knew I'd spoken of her mother knowing we were romantically involved but Ma hadn't sat down with her yet - until she did, Anna wouldn't consider things had changed. We left after nodding or chatting to a couple of people and headed along the highway that would take us home. If we wanted to we could go past Rosalee's or Hailey's home or even both of them but they would likely be at Mass or getting ready for Sunday dinner. As I had already said this was going to be Anna's time I didn't even mention the possibility. As often happens, the way home seemed to require less time than the way out - probably due to the stopovers in the park and at the burger barn. We had been due back at noon and came in soon after eleven. As a matter of course, we disengaged arms when we came into view of the house. We didn't want to push our relationship too far into Ma's face and possibly end up with unwanted additional strictures. "How was your walk?" "The river path is beautiful. You should come with us next week; it would do you good." Ma considered us. If we *WERE* an item would we ask her to join us? Were we still trying to work out if it was friendship or love? And yet there was the matter of my back. "Well you can have an early lunch then. Anna, I've got a uniform for you. I'll bring it up to check it fits properly." I emptied out the water remaining in our bottles, rinsed them and refilled them to sit in the refrigerator until needed again. While I was busy Ma took Anna upstairs. In Anna's room Ma handed Anna a coffee shop blouse. "See if you need a bigger size." Ana didn't hesitate and Ma was relieved by an absence of any hickeys or suspicious scratches on her body. She wasn't entirely reassured - an absence of proof is not proof of absence. "Anna I think we need to talk. Things have changed in this house since Roger has arrived. I guess the main one was you convincing me that you should go on the pill. I accepted you were interested in a boy at school and I believed that, by raising the issue of contraception before you needed it, you were taking the matter seriously enough to trust you to think carefully before you took *THAT* step." Anna sat on her bed next to her mother and waited to hear what was about to come. As she did she looked down at the floor where she had asked me to fuck her hard and fast only hours before. How she managed to control her expression was amazing. "Since then you've been out with Roger on two occasions when he has been with Rosalee and Hailey - both lovely girls, I am sure. You haven't however mentioned any other boy. Am I right in thinking that the boy at school was Roger all along?" Anna knew there was no point in lying about that matter. I had said I liked her and Ma wasn't stupid. If Anna *HAD* to lie then it was better to keep the karmic imbalance for something more important. "Yes." "Now Roger has said he likes you as well as the other girls. Is that how you see things?" "Yes, and we all think he's special." "The fact that you aren't scratching each other's eyes out suggests he's certainly that. He's not playing you off against each other is he? Having you compete for his favours?" "No. Nothing like that. We each like him and we know he likes the three of us. I guess we're waiting to see whether one of us wins or not." "And does sex feature in this competition? You're not offering yourselves in an attempt to win?" "I'm not really comfortable talking about this. Did you talk to your mother about when you were thinking of having sex with your boyfriend?" "No, but I was older, I'd known the boy for a couple of years and had been dating him for a few months - and, just for the record, it wasn't your father. You're still sixteen, have known Roger for three weeks and have two competitors for his affection. I think I need to be a bit more worried that you aren't finding yourself pressured into situations you aren't able to give adequate thought to in the time you are being allowed. "People in a hurry make poor decisions that they regret when they have time to think things through. I only want to give you a chance to slow things down so you can do your thinking first - you are still going to have to make your own decisions but I want you to be happy to live with them." "Thank you Ma. We've all kissed Roger. I know I'd like to do more but Rosalee and Hailey are around as well. Today was the first time we've been out together except when he took me to the Mall and to the movies - and neither of those were close to being a date. Today we walked and talked and held hands - and yes we kissed. It was beautiful and I think I love him so much it hurts. Is love supposed to be like that?" "Well I know I missed your father so much when he went home after taking me out it felt like I had a stomach ache sometimes. I guess it can be pretty awful." "So that tells you it's the real thing?" "I don't know honey. I doubt anyone has a good or at least universal definition of true love. I figure it is where you want to spend the rest of your life - and not necessarily the entire time - with some one and where you would do almost anything to see they were happy. That doesn't mean you accept them trying to cheapen what you offer by failing to respect you as a person. If someone can't respect you, it isn't really possible to love them. They can respect you without necessarily loving you though - harsh as that might seem." "I know Roger respects me and I think he loves me." "There seemed to be a 'but' at the end of that sentence." "Well I'm pretty sure he loves Rosalee and Hailey as well. He says he never really had much love in his life before he came here but it's hard to understand how someone can love more than one person." "Well it is unusual in that sense I guess. I love you and your father and Brent so I can love more than one person but that is a bit different. I know I loved the boy I was talking about before and though we broke up I still loved him though I no longer wanted to be with him. When I met your father that didn't change though I realise that the boy I loved has grown into a man who is a stranger to me. I may not love that man, though if he called asking for help I might be willing to assist purely on the basis of love shared so long ago. "To love three people at the same time though, especially when they all know each other sounds more like he is a little greedy or perhaps is simply unsure of what he does want." "I don't think he is greedy - he certainly isn't selfish. Roger is aware that we can't really continue like we are and that something is likely to snap. We spoke about it today. I would prefer it was just him and me sometimes but I don't want to lose my friends over it. I certainly wouldn't want to spoil their happiness if Roger decided on one of them but I know I would feel dead inside." Ma was concerned that Anna might have suicidal thoughts if I was to choose Rosalee or Hailey. "Just because you feel there can only be one person for you, it is surprising that sometimes another is waiting around the corner for you to simply be free to notice him. If you find yourself not 'selected' please come and talk to me." "Okay. I don't think it will happen soon. Roger says we need to be older and I think he would rather we break up with him if we feel we aren't going anywhere. That way he doesn't have to disappoint someone he still loves but can't be with." "Disappointment is something we all learn to live with. It is necessary we accept the times when we have to disappoint people as well." "Yeah, I guess." "Just don't commit yourself to sex if that is the only way to get Roger because, if that is all that matters to him, maybe he isn't really worth it - no matter if it feels otherwise at the time. I think better of him than that but you'll have to find out. If he wants you for yourself, he'll wait. I don't say that you have to be married first - I'm not a hypocrite - but I do think you should be older. Have I embarrassed you enough?" "Not quite Ma. I love you." "Well get through the shower so you're fresh for the afternoon and come down for lunch in your uniform so your father can see you." Ma left Anna thinking as she changed, and walked past the bathroom where I was having a quick shower myself. Dressed for work myself, I met up with Ma in the kitchen. "Can you give me a hand here please Roger?" When I was what I was helping with I was sure Ma had an ulterior motive." "I've just spoken with Anna. It sounds as though the two of you are more than friends." "Would that worry you?" "In some respects. I'd certainly be happier if you showed your feelings than tried to hide them. I know what it's like to be your age - believe it or not - and I'm not opposed to you and Anna being involved as such though it makes it hard if you do get serious and then break up. Living together, seeing each other every day, watching the other person meet someone new. All complications that don't normally happen." "I have thought about that sort of thing but I guess I can't change my feelings." "And Hailey and Rosalee?" "More complications? I like them all as I said before. I can't really say I have a favourite. So far it has been good that they are all friends and we can go out together like that. Sometimes we need some private time though. Today was nice; I guess less complicated." "Anna said you thought you needed to be older." Ma was directing the conversation without actually asking questions. "Hmm? I guess I was saying things might sort themselves out. I haven't tried to hide the fact I like them all more than I expected. "You've gotten yourself into an awkward situation. I hope you can resolve it without too much chaos." "Me too." I set the table and when Anna came down I surprised her by giving her a kiss while her mother watched. It wasn't anything other than a "Hi there!" but it was on the lips rather than the cheek. "You look good in the uniform." "Thanks." "Doug will be home in about five so we'll wait." I looked at the time. "Mind if I put the TV on until then?" "No." We didn't have television as a background during meals but Ma had no objection though she couldn't understand what we would see in five to ten minutes that was worthwhile. I however was aware that the midday news report would be coming on and local news was covered first. Anna sat beside me as the headlines were read out. Number two was the "Horror Fire Tragedy" where six people died when they were trapped in a suburban house overnight; number four was the damaged caused to appliances in hundreds of homes by a still unexplained power surge. Anna didn't recognise the home and no names were mentioned until the newsreader expanded on the story. "The family of shady local identity Adam Pringle all died when they were trapped in the blazing Greenview home last night. Investigators are still at the scene which took the lives of Mr Pringle, his wife Beverley, twelve year old daughter Michelle and seventeen year old twins Mark and Kyra. The name of an employee who also perished is being withheld until relatives can be notified. And in Bel Vista thirty-four houses had to be evacuated after a police raid on a Methamphetamine lab revealed unstable stores of dangerous chemicals..." "Roger, that was Kyra and Mark!" "Yeah. How could such a thing happen?" "I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" "Well it's a shock and Mark was a friend." "But Kyra - you and she..." "I told you. That was more like a job; it didn't mean anything. I'm sorry that anyone had to die like that though. It seems a shame when she was, they both were, so young." "I don't know if you're brave or heartless." "If it were your family you'd realise I wasn't heartless. Kyra and Mark were okay but their father was everything the stories said about him and more. I heard from Mark that he'd had someone killed who had gotten close to Mark." "He killed Mark's girlfriend!?" "Not quite. Don't spread it around though it can't hurt Mark now but he didn't really like girls." "Mark was gay!? But how did you know?" "Mark needed a friend. He wasn't sure about me and I asked him openly. We talked." "It didn't worry you? Nor that others would think you were gay if he was found out?" "I don't object to anyone being honest about what their feelings are. If Mark fancied me, and could then accept me as just a friend, I was willing to be his friend." "I don't think there are too many guys around here who would be like that." "I think that was why Mark was so lonely. In a round about way that is how I got to be with Kyra - his father was going to be suspicious of any male friends Mark got close to. One thing led to another and you got cross with me." "I'm sorry for that now." "No need to be. It was a reasonable way to react." Doug had arrived home and had caught just the last part of my sentence. "What's a reasonable way to react?" "Two kids Roger knows were killed in a fire last night." "Oh, I'm sorry. Are you okay Roger?" "Yeah. It's a bit disturbing to know someone and hear they're dead but I'm okay." "You sure? If you don't feel like working I can call someone else in." "No. I think I'm better working than just sitting thinking of them." Doug left us and a minute later Ma came in to check I was okay. She focussed more on the immediate situation - was I feeling like lunch. I was and Anna and I followed her into the kitchen. Brent was home and was prevailed upon to join us - he too expressed his sympathies to me; rather a surprise but appreciated regardless of my actual state. I had to pick a little bit - I couldn't appear entirely unmoved but I still managed to put away everything on my plate. Doug gave us a couple of minutes after lunch before bundling us out into the car. We would be early but he figured if we were ready we were just as well off waiting in the store as home. I clocked on when I got there and reported to the shift supervisor. He greeted me and asked me to start clearing tables. It was a job I had grown to know and, if not love, to understand. It was the duty given to the lowest of the low - which merely meant the newest staff rather than any true employee hierarchy. I wouldn't only be cleaning up but, with restocking and an occasional spell taking orders, that was how I would spend maybe three quarters of my time - the other fourth being devoted to operating the coffee machine under the watchful eye of an experienced barista. This time there was a difference. The Supervisor introduced me to our new trainee - a girl called Anna. He asked me to explain to her what I did as I cleared the tables then he would see how well she managed and give further instruction as needed. It was as much a test of our ability to work together as of our skills. Though it was a Sunday there were more than enough people around to keep us busy and little time for Anna or I to do more than smile at each other even if we had been inclined to mess around while working. Of course, that was exactly what I had been doing for the last three weeks - messing around while I was supposed to be working. Around three we were both surprised to see two bright young ladies sitting at one of the tables. "Wow Rosalee - two servants to look after us!" "Good morning ladies. This is a surprise." Anna added her hearty hello was well. "We phoned and Anna's mum said you were both working so we decided we could do with a coffee." "Do you have a break coming up?" With only a few hours to work we didn't have a meal break. We could have a few minutes for a drink or to use the rest rooms but that was usually in a quiet moment when there were plenty of clean tables and leaving cups, plates and spills on one or two wouldn't matter. "Not together but if Anna asks I'm sure she can have five minutes." "Why can't you?" "I took a couple of minutes earlier, remember?" "Oh yeah. Who do I see?" "Barry - you'll have to take your top off if you are going to sit at the tables though." "I haven't got a t-shirt on underneath." I smiled evilly for a second or two. "Check it's okay and you can have mine." She looked me over and decided my shirt wasn't going to be too big for her. "Thanks." I cleared the other tables while she got approval and asked for a cappuccino. She followed me into the small wash up area. I removed my uniform top and then my t-shirt. Anna had her top off and was standing in black apron and white lacy bra facing me with my bare chest. Three seconds later I would have been putting my shirt back on and she would have been wearing my t-shirt. Three seconds that we didn't get before our co-worker Steph happened to walk in with an armful of cups and saucers. "Oh. Oh! Sorry guys." "It's alright Steph. I'm just giving Anna my t-shirt to wear." "*S-U-R-E* you are. Mmm. Can I borrow it later maybe?" I laughed. "Sorry Steph. I'm already spoken for." Steph looked at Anna and raised her eyebrows. "Growl!" Anna then grinned. "Down girl. If he's yours I'll behave." "Damn right he's mine!" Anna was quite pleased to be able to say so; quite pleased another girl thought her boyfriend worth a second look; and even more pleased that I had made my unavailability clear. She donned my t-shirt (a little long and loose) and removed her apron. I was trusted to dress with Stephanie as she washed up. "She really your girlfriend or you two just messing with me?" "Yeah, she's my girlfriend." "Lucky girl." "I think I'm the lucky one." We finished loading the racks for the washer together and Steph started the cycle then joined me back in the store. Anna was sitting with Rosalee and Hailey and when Steph came out they had their heads together but looked over in her direction. Steph sensed the hostility and when she joined me behind the espresso machine she asked "What have I done that Anna's friends have got it in for me as well?" I looked over at their table and grinned; the three of them were keeping a close watch on us. "I think they figure you're too good looking to trust around me. They're very protective." "It needs three of them to stop you straying?" "Nah. I don't plan straying anywhere." "Who are the others then?" "Good friends of Anna and me." Steph saw nothing special in the statement - if they were Anna's good friends she would expect them to back her. I collected a tray and went out to clear the tables again. "Hey, cool the daggers girls. Steph has gotten the message." They had the temerity to grin. "Good!" Still, they no longer glared at Stephanie. They finished their coffees and Anna said goodbye and headed back to dress for work again. It is one advantage girls have over boys - they can give each other a kiss on the cheek on greeting or leaving a friend and no-one thinks anything of it. Anna and Hailey kissed - perhaps a little close to each other's mouth - and then Anna and Rosalee did the same. I'm not sure if it is normal for them to hold the other person's waist as they did so however - and breasts probably don't normally press into breasts. No-one paid them any attention though except for me - and Stephanie. The girls waved to me as they walked out the store, each blowing me a kiss on the way. Once more, Stephanie was the only other person to notice. She was puzzled by actions she felt she was clued into, having had girlfriends herself on and off for a couple of years. That didn't mean she wasn't interested in guys as well. Steph spent the next hour looking back and forth between Anna and myself. I was aware of the attention but we were doing nothing exceptional and I merely assumed it was a continuation of Steph's earlier interest. I guess though that it was obvious from the way Anna and I looked at each other even, or especially, when the other was not looking back, that we were pretty serious about each other. I saw no reason to hide it anymore and, with my openness, Anna responded similarly. This meant Stephanie was faced with the situation where I was "spoken for" by Anna yet she had two other girlfriends who appeared to be Girlfriends. Was it just because Anna was the boss' daughter? Stephanie didn't know I was the boss' foster son. Doug couldn't hide Anna's relationship as she had been in and out of the stores since he had signed the franchise agreement. My position was kept discretely confidential though so I could be rated more fairly by his senior staff. Stephanie decided to seek out an answer from Anna; it might improve her own chances within the business if she were to become friends with Anna - plus it could be fun. Anna had cleared a table and was loading the washer trays when Stephanie arrived with some more crockery. "Not the best job but it has to beat washing them by hand." Anna agreed. "So you and Roger are an item then?" "Yeah. I guess so." "And you've got a couple of loyal friends?" "Yeah. I guess so." "If you don't mind me asking, what does Roger *REALLY* think about you and them being so close?" Stephanie decided to phrase her question as if I had said something in the hopes Anna would reveal more. Anna thought Stephanie might ask about me but hadn't thought of being queried about her *OTHER* lovers. she was in a quandary. She wondered what she had done to expose her secret - the kisses hadn't been enough surely. Perhaps I *HAD* said something. She didn't know what to say but it seemed inappropriate to reveal the truth; even if I had said something it might not have been much at all. "What?" "Oh don't worry. *I'M* certainly not going to say anything. I think it's rather sweet but you have to admit it's a bit unusual." "Unusual? Why?" "Well I saw how your friends looked at me. They must really be closed to you to want to look out for you - *REALLY* close - and yet you and Roger are close too." "We're all friends together." Anna had meant to imply "just friends" but Stephanie decided to misinterpret just to tease a little more. "Together! Wow!" The look on Anna's face alerted Stephanie to what had been said and what had been conveyed accidentally without speech. "You really are!? Oh shit. Wow indeed!" Stephanie looked out into the shop. There had been no- one around to hear; she was both relieved *AND* a bit excited. "Listen, I'm sorry if I busted your secret and I promise not to say anything. I don't know what the deal is but Roger is rather cute and, well, I think you are as well. No pressure, no conditions, and definitely nothing connected with promising to seal my lips but - if you like the idea at any time - perhaps you could give me a call?" Steph leaned closer and gave Anna a quick peck on the lips, not game to go further - especially at work, but wanting to let Anna know she was serious about liking girls as well as boys, and Anna in particular. Anna was left, stunned, to finish collecting clean cups to stack ready for use. --- "What do you know about Stephanie?" "Steph? I've worked with her twice. Doesn't slacken off; friendly but not overly if you don't count today's interruption; polite to even noxious waste if it is a customer. Why?" "She saw something in how I was with Hailey and Rosy earlier and spoke with me about it. Without intending to I seem to have told her the four of us are together but I don't for the life of me know how. I don't understand she even figured out I was more than friends with Hailey and Rosy." "And did she say anything more? Like what she planned to do with the information?" "She promised to keep quiet." I could see there was something more. Anna eventually revealed it without my prompting. "There is something else. She likes you." Anna paused. "I told her I was spoken for." "I think it is more that she said she likes me too. I guess she figures it I like girls she could join us." "The two of us or the four of us?" "I don't really know. I don't know if she does think there is a 'four of us' or not. Plus she kissed me." I must have looked out into the restaurant with the same look on my face that Hailey and Rosalee had worn on theirs earlier. "Only a little one," Anna laughed. "So what is going to happen?" "Nothing I guess. I'm spoken for too. Why? Do you want her to join us?" I laughed and gave Anna a quick hug. I couldn't be caught cuddling her at work. "W-e-e-ell she is rather hot." Anna looked at me with a shocked look on her face and then realised I was teasing. "Yeah, she is isn't she!?" "You think I want to look after *ANOTHER* person? Or do you want to look after her?" "I'm spoken for - remember?" "Seems to be a common situation." "So what are we going to do about her?" "Politely say we aren't interested and if she isn't interested in taking no for an answer we stall - tell her we have to discuss it with the others - while we work out what to do." "You'll tell her?" "Yeah I guess. I'd better go." Our Supervisor was watching as I came out. I guess a minute more and he might have stuck his head in the door. I was busy for a while making coffees while Anna continued on tables. Doug returned and watched us both surreptitiously. I noticed him but didn't show any sign. I didn't change how I looked at Anna occasionally either. Anna also looked my way and smiled. I wondered what Doug thought of that. He made a formal arrival and spoke with the Supervisor for a few minutes before speaking with Anna. Firstly, he was pleased with her performance and, secondly, was going to be a little late calling back to pick us up so we should wait for him nearby. I continued making coffees under the Supervisor's watchful eye; there were no complaints and he told me I could expect more time there and less clearing tables if I wanted it. Stephanie was taking orders and when we had a period where the tables were full and no-one else was arriving I finally had a chance to take advantage of the Supervisor's absence. "Anna told me of your conversation. Why did you think we would want to include a third person?" I spoke quietly. "Third or fifth?" Stephanie spoke even quieter. "Fifth?" "With your other friends it would be five wouldn't it?" "You think those girls are fooling around with us?" "I think that is exactly what Anna's reactions indicated." "Making the assumption that they are for a second, why would you want to get involved?" "Well I guess it must be obvious that my interests lie in more than one direction and I think our secrets are therefore safe with one another. I like you - both. I think you would - both - like me. Having a chance to satisfy both my interests at once would be, well, interesting to say the least." "Trouble is, like we said, I'm spoken for and Anna feels she is too." "I can respect that. I can also live with that as well. I figure this was a situation that wouldn't come up often, if ever again, and if I didn't let you know I was interested then I would definitely miss out. If you weren't then I was no worse off. Hope you don't mind if I think about how it might have been though." "No harm in dreaming," I smiled. "What about the other two then? If you two are *NOT* with them do you think there would be any chance of success if I was to speak to one or the other of them?" "That is really for them to say but I think the answer might be that they felt they were spoken for too." "You must be some kind of lover. Please keep me in mind if you're ever at a loose end." "Okay. I don't mind doing that much." Customers started coming back in and I had no chance for another quiet talk to either Stephanie or Anna. I believed Stephanie was sincere - or a *VERY* good liar. She certainly showed none of the characteristic attributes I was taught gave most liars away. Things continued in an easy way until 5:30 when Anna and I were told we could go. We grabbed a coffee each and wandered out into the shopping centre where we spent some time window shopping as we emptied our cups. I didn't join Anna jumping at the sudden voice but I didn't warn her of Stephanie's approach either. "Hi there. Mind if I join you?" "Not willing to accept a no?" "Nah. If you aren't interested it wouldn't be any good for any of us if I tried to force you into trying it. I do like you both though and just wanted to say I hope I didn't mess things up between us at work." "Showing an interest in us is okay; becoming a stalker isn't." "You think I'm stalking you?" "No. This is cool," Anna reassured her. I was observing Anna. There was none of the interest I saw when she looked at our lovers. She was polite and maybe curious - hell I was too - but never-the-less not open to extending an invitation. How much had changed since wanting to try a little extra with her two soccer mates! "Is it too pushy if I leave you my number? Just in case, or even if you'd like to just chat away from work?" "Sure," I said - earning a curious glance (or was it a glare?) from Anna. Stephanie handed over a piece of paper - written out ready - and said, "I've got to go now. Dad's back from LA this evening and I've got to fix dinner before I drive to the Airport to pick him up." "Your mother not there to help?" "No. They divorced when I was three. For the past six months he's been going away for two weeks every two months but now he has to go for a week and then have a week home - probably for at least another six months. Anyway, I'll see you around. Feel free to call me any time." "Bye Steph." "Goodbye." Anna waved too. "Strange," she added when we were alone. "Lonely I think. If she likes girls as well as boys she should have twice as many potential partners to choose from but perhaps that actually works against her since she wouldn't be as attracted to those of either sex who are vocal in their opposition to same sex relationships. If you find your 'friends' hate the type of person you are I guess you end up with few friends." "That might explain her great interest in seeing if we were inclined to extend an invitation. If I denied being involved with the others at least I didn't go 'Eeuw' so I must be sympathetic." "An interesting situation." "Does that mean you want to fuck her?" "Anna my love, I think there are other levels of friendship we could consider first." "First - so you do want to fuck her!" "She is nice - I have no objection, but neither do I have a desire to get intimate. I *AM* spoken for!" "And if the three of us gave you permission?" "Is it any different to the couple in the park? We made up stories but don't really want to share our love with them. I have no love for her - I don't want to make love to someone I don't love." "What about Kyra?" As soon as she'd spoken Anna realised that Kyra wasn't around to defend herself. "Sorry." "It's alright. Why do you think I want to love my lovers." "Oh." "Of course, someone with their house to themselves for half the time might be handy to know." "Even if she came with the house?" "Which is why you start off just friends." "Sounds deceitful. 'We're only getting to know you so we can use your house for our orgies - oh, and you're not invited!' I'm sure she'd say yes." "Maybe treated differently. I was more concerned if she was going to say something. Now I believe she won't." "I'm just worried others will notice us as well. Doe's this mean I can't show them *ANY* affection?" "Well you are going to have to be careful. I mean it is not much different for me. If I do this to you..." I wrapped my arm around her and lifted her chin so our lips could touch sweetly. "...and then did the same to the others, people are going to notice." "Perhaps *WE* should just keep doing it then." "I think we got away with one but people might start to complain if we kept at it. Hailey and Rosalee to name two for a start." "Dad might too if he came along now." "What did Rosalee and Hailey want?" I changed the topic and took her hand instead. We continued to wander. "Seeing if we'd like to go around to Hailey's for a little while this evening. She's cleared it with her mother that we can come to dinner if Ma okayed it. I said yes - I hope that's alright?" "Making plans for us as a couple already hey?" I teased. I didn't mind. There weren't going to be many more opportunities to get together and it was reasonable for Anna to make this decision as it had been for me to arrange the motel room. "Sorry. I won't do it without asking in future." "Anna, it is alright!" I hugged her to me. "I think it is a lovely idea and my only complaint would be that I promised you this day. If you want us to be with the others that is good by me and if you feel I'd answer a particular way in future - go ahead. If it doesn't suit me we will work it out but until further notice I am yours to command." Okay - so it sounded like I was pussy-whipped but I was going to get my exit details by Wednesday at the latest. I couldn't leave immediately after the fire, preferably not before the funeral as well. Except in an emergency or when I'd been booked in to leave well before the job, I always had a few days on site afterwards so I didn't appear to be rushing away. It gave me a chance to see how the authorities reacted and to learn which details required even more attention so as to make their jobs harder. If letting Anna make our decisions for a day or two made her happy, perhaps it would provide some compensation for my going. I realised it wouldn't though. If I'd been a bastard about it then Anna might not mind me leaving quite as much but I couldn't spoil the time we had left and it would only have moved some of the grief a little ahead of time anyway. Anna's smile made going along with her worth it even if I had been at all reluctant. If I returned in months or years would she still have it? Or would it belong to someone else? More negative thoughts; for now it was for me. "Here's Dad." Doug saw us and waved. We met him and walked out to the car. "What did you think of your first day Anna?" "Interesting." "It gets better when you actually get to make the coffee and take the orders." "Yes, well I have to admit that what you are doing isn't much above a burger chain; a little more prestige when you say you work but not much better pay if you're a casual. It's good experience though as it is definitely an incentive to study well. If you both stick with it I will see you get a chance to understand the stocking and staffing side of the business as well. I'm not about to replace my supervisors but I don't think that's a future either of you would want." Anna looked at me, considered what her mother had spoken with her about and decided she should bite the bullet. "Can I tell him?" she mouthed, pointing back and forth between us. I nodded. It wasn't as if it was a secret anymore and I was sure she wouldn't tell *ALL* about us, let alone about Rosalee and Hailey. "Dad, has Ma said anything to you?" "About what?" "About Roger and I." "So there *IS* a Roger *AND* you then?" "Yes." "Serious are you then?" "Oh yes." "And you, Roger?" "I love Anna." "Leaving aside any comment I might make that I doubt either of you is aware of what love really is, you haven't known each other very long, have you? It pays to get to really know each other properly before you decide you've found your soul partner." "Sir, we are very aware of how sudden this is and how circumstances have thrown us together. Our feelings have grown stronger and we believe they are real but we also appreciate things could change. We don't feel that we should hide those feelings from you and Ma." "That sounds a more mature outlook that I could have hoped for at your ages. What about your other girlfriends though?" "Rosalee and Hailey understand how we feel about each other. They are still good friends with us both." "Really!? Well I want you two to behave yourselves still. I don't think this is a particularly good idea but I also realise that you can't help how you feel. I've got to give this some more thought so please continue to respect the rules we established before. Behave like responsible adults and you will be treated as responsible adults - understood?" "Yes Dad." "Yes Doug." We drove the last couple of streets in silence and when we entered Ma told us that it was okay for use to have dinner at Hailey's but not to be home later than 9 since we had school on Monday. We showered and changed, while downstairs Ma and Doug were comparing views. He heard for the first time that his little girl had been prescribed the contraceptive pill. He was not particularly pleased. "Don't you think it better that she came and spoke to me *BEFORE* she needed to rather than after it was too late?" "I had hoped there wouldn't *BE* any need for a couple of years at least. If Roger hadn't come here, there might not have been." "So you'd have turned him away?" "Of course not. I like him - I just don't like what is happening as a result." "Well don't say anything to either of them about the pill yet, if possible. Anna's not going to confide in me if you then turn around and use the information against her." "I don't like being made the bad cop." "I don't want you to be. If they need to have someone come down on them hard, I'll do that also. I just want them to understand why and still be willing to talk to me." *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Assassin Part: Chapter 27 of 27 Summary: Ass, sass and sin. A young assassin does more than befriend people when he tries to get close to his targets. Keywords: Mfff, oral, exhib, voy Language: English Copyright: 2009 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* Somehow I ended up screwing my foster-sister Anna as well as two of her friends, Hailey and Rosalie; somehow we all fell in love. Though things have fallen to pieces around us with our respective parents finding out what has been going on, I think I've been able to keep the girls safe while I have to leave for at least a while. Ma and Doug have left us alone in the house for my final few hours knowing that we are likely to all have sex of one sort or another. After we'd proven them right during exhausting morning we shared a much more respectable lunch. ********************************************************* As we picked up the dirty lunch dishes and prepared to set the kitchen to rights again the doorbell rang and we stopped and looked at each other. Anna was the best dressed of us all and had the most right to claim residence. She headed to the lounge window and looked out. "There is a delivery van there." I left the others waiting to consider a dash upstairs and had a look as well. I recognised certain signs. "It's all right. You can go back into the kitchen." Anna was by the door and I signalled for her to answer it. She did so to the hurried patter of bare feminine feet going into the kitchen and I say Hubby dressed as an Express Packaging deliveryman. "Good afternoon miss. I have some boxes here for Miss Draper. "Thank you," I said over Anna's shoulder. "Could you bring them in please?" "Certainly. Where would you like them?" "I think upstairs. It's okay Anna. I can fix them up." "Like that?" "They won't care." Shaking her head Anna went back to the kitchen to explain and express her amazement at my exhibitionistic streak. I wasn't worried about Hubby seeing my underwear - people wore far less at the beach and that didn't include the rock pool we had visited. I hadn't expected his wife to be accompanying him though. She was similarly uniformed and dropped a pile of empty boxes into my arms. "Here you go Roger. We'll do a swap." "Thanks June." "Like your gear. Interrupt something?" She headed outside without waiting for an answer. I took the boxes upstairs and Hubby joined me with a full box and some tape, "Where do you want them?" "Just here thanks. Got many?" "With all my worldly goods I thee endow! We just basically threw the young lady's bedroom through a vacuum cleaner. She should have most of it. There are enough that you've got plenty of time to pack. Let us know if you need more boxes." "I'll put my toys away but other than that I haven't much more than I came with. I shouldn't need long then I'll give you a hand." "Thanks." He went downstairs and passed June coming up. "In here." "Thanks lover boy." She sniffed the atmosphere in my room. "So this is the love nest? You all fit in here?" "Not so far. Hailey will get this room." June looked out of the window to the flat roof I had used for my nocturnal jaunts. "At least she's not likely to need to climb in and out windows; or are the girls going to be under curfew restrictions?" "No, I think they are sweet." "I think they must be," she deliberately misinterpreted. "I'll introduce you if you like. If you're allowed." "I don't think we're going to cause any *MORE* headaches so long as there are no group photos." "No - and sorry and thanks for everything." "You're welcome." She headed off and Hubby returned. I got busy with my boxes. Two remote control cars in one box, padded top and bottom with shirts. Tool kit and some books in the other. I threw a change of clothes into the suitcase I had come with and put another outfit on top to dress in later. The rest of my clothes went into a third box. I really didn't have much in the way of possessions with me. Everything I needed was kept in a 'U-Store-It-Here' block when I wasn't actually on holiday somewhere. I took the boxes out into the corridor where they wouldn't get confused with those coming in and waited for June to drop yet another box into my room. "If you bring them to the landing I'll run them up the stairs. Come and meet the girls anyway." The 'girls' had been poking their heads around the corner as they heard people going out and were curious as to what was actually in the boxes. Hailey wondered who had packed them and what had been included - and missed. They were taken by surprise when June appeared after I had walked into the kitchen. "Awk!" "*ROGER*!" "Don't worry. Think of the lake. June this is Anna, Rosalee and Hailey. Ladies, this is June who looks after me from time to time." "Hi there. I just wanted to finally meet you. Roger has been a bit of a surprise but I can see what attracted him to the three of you - and you to him." She swiped my butt. "Hailey, I got first look at your bedroom so you needn't worry anyone's been prying through your things. You'll have a bit of sorting to do I'm afraid but every thing should be safe. If we have missed anything I'm sorry." "Thank you. I guess I've got the most important things right here." "Smart of you to realise. I do have a message from your sister. She's hoping you're back at school soon so you can talk. I think she's a bit pissed at your parents. If you decide to go back I think they will have forgotten their brainwashing nonsense but will probably still try and feed their opinions to you 24-7 so it might not seem any different." "I'd have to think about it a fair bit first. Thanks." "June?" "Yes Rosalee?" "Are you going to be looking out for Roger when he is gone?" "I don't know but it isn't likely." "Well if you do, or you can speak to the people who will, can you see he stays safe and doesn't do anything stupid please? We want him back." "I'll see what I can do." "And I'll see about carrying these boxes upstairs!" Anna followed us out and saw the man who'd been there when I opened the door. I took the box he was carrying and lugged it up the stairs. When Julie returned Anna took the next box from her. Anna hadn't come out earlier because, although she was dressed, the dress didn't cover enough to make her decent on the stairs. Now June had seen Rosalee standing by the counter in just her top and Hailey holding the bottom of my former shirt closed across in front of her minge fringe, it didn't seem so important to conceal a flash of colour from whoever might look up. Hubby and June both did catch a glimpse and June reached between the balustrades to slip a finger or two up my boxer leg with a laugh. It was no more than the pat on the butt that she had given me - I knew she was merely teasing. I couldn't really pay her back though - not with Hubby and the girls to misconstrue my actions. I was cornered by Anna upstairs anyway. "June took our lack of clothing in her stride. What have you been telling her? And who else?" "I had to be fairly open to get this sort of response so there might be a dozen who know we've all been lovers; really no more than your family - think of them as my family if it helps. June could be my big sister and I guess we have had a heart-to-heart. The man helping us shift is her husband. I talked about the complications in my love life, she talked about hers - we helped resolve things. I'm not a gossip - though thinking back to what I told you about Rosalee and Hailey perhaps I am. Things have changed though. No-one needs to know about us except us." "I can cope with June as your big sister. She's friendly." "Her husband is okay too." "He knows?" "Yes. Sorry if I seem to be telling everyone our business but at the time it was theirs as well." "So long as I don't go to school tomorrow and find all the boys have read my name and phone number off the locker room wall." "If they do, I didn't put it there." "Aren't we supposed to be helping?" "Yeah, I guess so. You want to carry this one down?" I gave her the heaviest - not too much in it anyway and, besides, the two I carried together weighed more. "Your stuff?" "Seems insignificant next to Hailey's." "Well the boxes are rather small - I guess it makes them easier to carry." Hubby was downstairs looking up and we both saw where his stare was fixed. "Oops, sorry. Guess it's a sight I don't get to see everyday. No offence meant to it." "That's okay. No harm if it's just looking is there?" "Guess not miss, least ways not if my wife doesn't catch me." His smile was contagious. "Can we offer you a coffee or something?" "Have a coffee," I suggested. "That's the one thing I'll miss when I have to leave." Hubby ignored Anna's rabbit punch to my kidney. "Well we do have time. Not a lot to do now the old farts have signed. I don't mean to offend Miss Hailey but her parents have got the most narrow minds I've seen for ages." I handed over my boxes and bent to start on the backlog. "No problems then?" "Not from your side. Both sets of parents faced Children's Services - investigating their other kids as well as your young ladies. Made 'em a bit more eager to cooperate." He disappeared and I climbed the stairs while Anna went to make the coffee. June joined me walking up and down and when we'd finished there were twenty boxes including a portable TV and a DVD player. "I think that might have gotten included by mistake," smirked June. "They can always come and ask for it back but it's possible they won't want further contact. If Hailey wants to see her sister they are both going to have to be sneaky about it. I'd suggest swapping new email addresses quickly just in case the family up and moves." "Thanks June. I'm surprised you got the delivery job. I would have thought they'd have packed you off to your well-earned vacation." "Well don't let it worry you but we have to hang around for your psych review. I don't think they have any reason to complain. You're young; you fell in love. Nothing abnormal there. You just didn't know when to stop. We have to put in our two cents worth and from what I've seen so far you are all pretty much like any other sex crazed teens." I began to wonder if coffee was such a good idea. We went downstairs and the front door was closed. There were voices coming from the kitchen - Hubby was already there and I dreaded what I might find. Rosalee had commandeered a small apron. It left her bare butt visible but other than that she was almost respectable. Hailey had also modified her attire. My shirt now had all its buttons secured though there was the ever-present risk it would rise up revealingly if Hailey bent over or reached up. I suspected Anna's hand in the matter. The three of them had stayed out the way initially, expecting the interruption to be a brief one. Then it had been impossible to get their clothes as one of the delivery people was climbing the staircase in one direction or the other. Anna *COULD* have grabbed something for all three of them but, if I wasn't dressing and June hadn't been fazed, then there seemed little reason to get dressed and plenty of fun to be had by teasing poor Hubby. June kept nudging her husband whenever he seemed to fix on one indiscretion or another. There were an unusually large number of them and I was worried lest June decided enough was enough. June might seem nice - she *WAS* nice - but she could also, without a qualm, taken out anyone who crashed through the door trying to harm any of us. That was the basic difference between us - she or her hubby would respond to an active threat; I could do the same to a potential threat. She was a killer; I was the cold-blooded type. Actually the main threat I could see in the near future was for June to reveal we had done more than talk one evening while I had been sitting in her car. I don't know if she'd told Hubby but Anna especially might feel betrayed. The couple didn't stay after they had drunk their coffee - both acknowledging the pleasant taste. Hubby did confirm that the paperwork signed by Hailey and Rosalee's parents putting them into the care of the state, together with more paperwork signed by Anna's parents taking over control as foster parents, was all sitting in front of a judge around the time he spoke. It would require little more than a check that everything was completed correctly and the two girls would legally belong in the house until someone approached the court to change that status or the girls became adults. "And anyone other than yourselves or the Jamesons who tried to get things changed would find the proceedings a great deal harder to present to a judge let alone to get a ruling in their favour." We waved them off, discretely standing back inside the entrance hall, and then Hailey raced up to my, *HER* bedroom to see what was where. Anna stopped her from opening boxes. "You can do that later. I want to see you squirming on the couch." "You should have been watching me in the kitchen then. I think my parents might have been right to consider scrambling my brains. The park was one thing - people didn't know us and everyone was roaming around naked. This was people who knew us even if they are strangers. And *THAT* is a strange enough experience in itself." "You just like being a tease - like the rest of us." "That's true Rosy. I did." Hailey giggled. "I don't know which outfit looked sexier; Rosalee's apron or Hailey's hint of fur every minute or two." "You didn't like my outfit?" "I didn't get to stand under you on the stairs like some." "Oh, well at least I didn't sit there doing a Sharon Stone for Jane like some *OTHERS*!" "She couldn't really see up my shorts - I was just teasing her as well." "How do you know she couldn't?" asked Anna. "Because she complained about just that before she left." Anna thought of how old the woman was - maybe even thirty! Yet June and I had messed around quite casually even with her husband there. I had many mysteries still to be uncovered, she was sure. Since Anna had raised the matter of attacking Hailey I hoisted her over my shoulder and carried her down the stairs. It was a most revealing pose for Anna and Rosalee who had led the way and now waited at the bottom. "Let me just put a cover on the lounge." Anna grabbed a soft cotton waste blanket that was used in the colder months by anyone watching TV who just needed a little more warmth. She spread it over the centre of the lounge and pointed where she wanted Hailey dumped. "You will pay for that Mr Torrent! I would have come down by myself." "After opening how many boxes?" "I'm not interested in those - there's something much nicer here that needs unwrapping." Hailey wasn't going to distract them by turning on me and Anna started on Hailey's buttons. When she leaned forward to reach lower down I took advantage of Anna's knickerless state to bury my thumb inside her. "Ooo. Thank you." Accepting the touch up, Anna busied herself pulling Hailey's shirt open and pressed her face to one of Hailey's breasts. Rosalee climbed into the seat beside Hailey and lay on her back so she could suck on the free breast as it hung in her face. Hailey leaned back as well, closed her eyes and let her mouth drop open. "Mmm. Nice." Hop up like Rosalee, Sweetheart," I suggested. Anna looked and then climbed from the floor to become a poorly matched mirror image of Rosalee. I reached under them to grip Hailey's hips and pulled her forward then I knelt between her knees and pressed my face into her crotch. The perfume was strong when I parted her guarding lips. Hailey's outer lips were flatter than the other girls and didn't trap the juices released from her cunt. Her inner lips were quite up to the task though and I sucked them into my mouth, getting a clearly audible gasp for my efforts. When I took a break after a couple of minutes to rest my tongue I found Hailey had stretched out to each side to slip her fingers inside the others' pussies. I considered how the intention had been for us all to make up to Hailey for missing out before. It was nice to think she was happy to share her own experience. I worked my tongue into and around Hailey, getting my head squeezed appreciatively from time to time. Hailey's hands stopped moving at some stage during my feast. She still kept them embedded in Anna on the left and Rosalee on the right but the time had come when her body overrode any suggestion of benevolent intent towards others. Hailey simply enjoyed what we were doing for her until I hit the right spot in conjunction with the others and then she started to shake. Afterwards Anna and Rosalee told how Hailey's fingers pressed hard against the front of their cunts as her hands curled into fists. It wasn't comfortable for either of them but it didn't hurt too much. I remembered how Hailey had dug claws into my back and could only suggest the girls had been lucky they had only been attacked with the pads of her fingers. Hailey was suitably apologetic and we all reassured her that we understood and that none of us had taken any serious or even inconvenient injury on either occasion. Anna and Rosalee sat up and Hailey stood to allow me to take her place for a second before sitting back down on my lap. We kissed and hugged each other, taking turns trying to outdo each other. When two people kiss there is only one pair involved and if you consider a more active kisser with a less active "kissee" there are two ways of looking at matters. With four people it becomes six pairs and twelve ways - and that doesn't consider getting more than two people involved at once. It was a good way to recover but it eventually paled. Anna found a range of movies and we voted on which we would watch. It was inevitable that we would end up with a chick flick I suppose. At least I could sway the decision of which one it was to be though I refuse to reveal the title even as part of my debriefing. (It is more fun when the girls de-brief me anyway.) While Anna was up Hailey moved into her seat and then invited Anna to sit on her lap for a while. I snuggled up to Rosalee and we watched the start of the movie. Hailey and Anna almost immediately started kissing and Anna slid her hand inside Hailey's still loosely-hanging shirt. It promised to be more interesting than the movie and when I turned to look at Rosalee she was just as interested as I was. We kissed as well and Rosalee moved around a little to get a better view, sliding her hand into the opening of my boxers as she did so. When Hailey noticed *THAT* she slipped *HER* hand under Anna's dress and began to finger her pussy. The movie played unheeded in the background. It wasn't that we weren't going to watch it, merely that there were more interesting things going on at the moment. It was by no means a one-sided display. If we could see up past Anna's wide-spread legs at Hailey burying not one but two fingers to the second knuckle (if not all the way) then they got to watch my foreskin opening and closing over my knob as Rosalee slowly stroked me. They also got to watch Rosalee shift onto her knees on the sofa and bob for apples in my lap. She really paid attention to what I liked and the blowjob she gave me (which had to last something like eight long weeks) was everything I could ask for - except a release. Rosalee didn't make me come. It was long enough since our fun and games upstairs that I could easily get hard but I was able to withstand any sudden needs. It would be the slow build up that would catch me out. Rosalee wasn't going to wait for that though. "Condom?" I had two in my shirt pocket, having collected them before manhandling Hailey down to the sofa. I offered Rosalee the choice of colour - red or green. She left the strawberry and opted for mint. It didn't matter as she had finished blowing me and all condoms are black when they are tucked away inside a cunt. "Is it okay if we watch the movie together?" "Sure." Rosy sat herself down on the spike. It was nicer than her hand and even her mouth. She wriggled a little to settle herself and then kept me hard by leaning forwards and back or by straightening her legs a little. There was some whispering next to us and Anna climbed to her feet. "Mind if we join in?" Rosalee turned her face up and Anna kissed her mouth. While they kept busy Hailey moved around behind the sofa and leaned my head back so I was looking straight up at the ceiling. That view was almost immediately replaced as Hailey's eyes, nose and then mouth drifted across like the introduction to a vintage Star Wars movie - one *BEFORE* Jar Jar Binks was created! Hailey pressed her mouth to mine and then slid the top of her tongue against the top of mine. As a kiss it felt totally unusual. Her hands slid down from my shoulders to cover both my nipples and she massaged my chest as we continued to kiss. Getting the okay from Rosalee, Anna spread her legs and straddled Rosalee's lap, facing her. Sure, Rosalee could give approval but whose legs were at the base of the pile? Rosalee's t-shirt bound breasts pressed against Anna's, similarly uncovered except for the light fabric of *HER* dress. My hands around Rosalee's waist gravitated, despite Newton's best efforts, up to part the clash of their chests. I spent a little time teasing their nipples then left that task to them while I took hold of Anna's butt and pulled her closer into Rosalee's belly. There wasn't far for her to move but if I wasn't free to thrust up into Rosalee how I might wish then I could press Rosalee more firmly onto myself and the compression and relaxation of the Rosalee sandwich I had created was a reasonable substitute for fucking Rosalee. It still wasn't exactly easy for me though as pulling on Anna's hips shifted me away from Hailey and she ended up cupping my chin to keep me in place. Fortunately Anna and Rosalee were ideally situated and Anna's extra height from her double lap seat meant Rosalee leaned her head back while Anna kissed her; back onto my shoulder. If Anna and Hailey had both looked forwards they could have kissed as well. Anna got Rosalee to come - I could feel Rosalee trying to scramble my prick and balls as the tension built inside her. She came and I think it was a battle to see whether she could suck Anna's tongue out by the roots first or whether Hailey would sever mine. I had no hope of resisting and was grateful that Anna's weight meant I was as deep inside Rosalee as I could possibly go. When a guy comes, something feels just right when he is buried like that as the spurts pass through, wave after wave. Hailey let my tongue retreat and I abandoned Anna's hips to reach behind me over the sofa. I took hold of my spare shirt to pull Hailey closer and then fondled her breasts though the opening. That was when we realised the TV was no longer playing. "I've got some things to put into the kitchen - do you think you can all be dressed a little more normally when I see you next?" Ma was early - by perhaps 90 minutes to two hours. She would have had a lovely view of Hailey's bare butt under the hem of my white shirt. With how Hailey was leaning forward and I was pulling on the shirt it may have been up around her waist line and how much else was visible would have depended on how far apart Hailey had her feet. And then, Anna and Rosalee were still kissing - probably with eyes closed which is why Anna gave no forewarning. As Ma went into the kitchen curiosity got the better of her and she would have seen Anna's dress hitched up to her hips (I knew they were bare when I had used them as grips) and Rosalee's similar bare-below-the-waist condition. Hailey took off, allowing me to straighten my neck - it would be the stiffest part of me for a while. Anna stood and reached between Rosalee's legs to secure the condom as Rosalee stood. From the other side of the kitchen Ma surreptitiously watched and wondered. Anna had been quite self-assured about managing the condom - surely *THAT* had required plenty of repetition to appreciate the need? She also noticed Rosalee's fine body and realised Anna was braless. For a few brief instants she also had an only-slightly obstructed view of my now-green prick; once again, curiosity stopped her turning away immediately. We headed upstairs, stopping at the midpoint to kiss again. I used the bathroom and flushed the condom away before cleaning myself and joining Hailey in my room. "Is she mad?" "I don't think so. Let me go down first and she can blow off any steam she does have at me. I'll be gone and she can recover long before she sees me again. Tell the others." Hailey put her arms around my neck. "You're not going to put me over your shoulder again?" "Not this time." I kissed her and she gave me a funny look. "I'm used to kissing all ass-about now and *THAT* felt odd!" I kissed the end of her nose instead and broke free long enough to slip into the outfit I'd left on my suitcase. One more quick kiss for luck and I went back downstairs. Since they hadn't passed by already I figured Anna and Rosalee were either waiting things out as I had suggested to Hailey or having a post-fuck kiss and hug of their own. I heard Hailey walk down the corridor to see as I descended the stairs. "Sorry about that Ma. I guess there's no point saying we weren't expecting you home yet." "I'll say. It was rather a shock. I expected you might occupy yourselves upstairs but didn't expect an orgy in my family room. Do you *ALL* get involved every time? Sorry, I shouldn't ask." "No, it's fair enough that we'd arouse curiosity. We don't set out to do anything specific most of the time. It depends on who is present but that doesn't mean everyone joins in." "I think that's enough for 'need to know'. I did suggest you didn't spend the day in bed - I should have made myself clearer. I hope you've actually done other things as well." "We had a nice lunch and Hailey's things have been dropped off. For all intents and purposes my bedroom is hers now - I hope that is all right?" "It is if her parents sign the paperwork. I don't want her going back where the situation is intolerable even if there are complications here." Ma and Doug's motivation to take me in in the first place continued to work in my - our - favour. "Oh that has been signed and has probably been okayed by now. I thought they were dropping your copies off to Doug as soon as they were notarised and registered." "I guess I'll give him a call then. You testing the waters? I notice a distinct lack of females around and despite past evidence to the contrary I don't believe they would take this long to get dressed." "I look better with short back and sides if you were taking scalps." "Well herd them down - I don't plan on complaining about what you've done though we will talk more about the future where and how. I'll phone Doug." I went upstairs and found the ladies talking together rather than quaking in fear. I knocked on Anna's door before entering. Three pairs of raised eyebrows made an actual question superfluous. "We've survived this time but we are due for a chat." There was a shared sense of relief. "What's going to happen?" asked Anna. The three of them moved closer together and put their arms behind each other so they formed a solid wall. Rosalee, Anna, Hailey. "About?" There were far too many possibilities to guess. "How are you leaving? Do you disappear out the window and into the shadows when everyone are asleep? Do you call a taxi? Do your friends turn up?" "Not quite. I need to have a public exit so there is no doubt I've been taken officially and not just gone where you might know. Later on you're going to be able to describe things as they happen. Just remember now though that some of the people involved won't know things aren't as they seem. I trust you all not to say anything to make them suspicious like 'see you in a couple of months.' I'd rather not say any more because you will react more naturally if you don't know what or exactly when." "So we aren't going to be able to say goodbye properly?" "We've been saying goodbye all day. I don't think of it *AS* goodbye though. Just a bit longer between dates." "But if there are outsiders we won't be able to really say how we feel so that's what we've decide to do now." "Roger," began Hailey, "You've come into our lives much more suddenly that we expected." "You've turned our thoughts, our beliefs, our emotions upside down." Anna smiled at me. "You've helped open us to new experiences and encouraged us to think adventurously." Back to Hailey. "You've shown us you care for us - more than just our bodies." "But you've taught us all the pleasure we can give and receive with our bodies." "And in the process," added Rosalee, "made us love you." "You told me why you love me. We went out because you were new and attractive and approachable. We wanted to go out with you again because you excited us with possibilities we hadn't properly considered." "But in the process we got to know you, and not only that, each other. You spoke to our hearts, let them talk to each other." "And so we all found ourselves willing to share you as friends and then wanting to keep you as lovers." There seemed little to add but they all inhaled in preparation for another round. "And so we say, I love you Roger." "I love you Roger." "I love you Roger - and we *WILL* miss you so hurry back." They crowded around me and I had great pleasure kissing each in turn and telling them individually that I loved them. Rosalee then adlibbed. It was obvious her next speech hadn't been discussed as she addressed Anna and Hailey. "I won't say or do anything to put either of you in jeopardy but I want you to know that I love both of you as well. I decided I don't have to feel ashamed of loving girls as well as boys and if we *DO* decide to go public I will be proud to stand up and embarrassingly proclaim my love for you at the top of my voice." Anna and Hailey more quietly told her that they loved her too as they pressed her between them. --- Ma had the girls sit down at the kitchen table. I wasn't strictly required to be present but I had nowhere else to go unless I wanted to catch the end of the movie still playing in the Family Room. "Some ground rules - and I hope you three can follow them more successfully than Anna and Roger. We all know you girls are not going to be celibate but you don't have the house to yourselves so there has to be some recognition of others' sensibilities. What if Brent had come home instead of me?" It was intended only as a rhetorical question but Ma noticed Anna and Rosalee exchanging glances. "Not good enough girls!" Ma wasn't about to ask what her son had stumbled in upon. Sometimes one could be given too much information. "It's not just when you are - together though. I don't want to see you dashing from the bathroom to your rooms in just a towel or worse as a matter of course. I understand there might be times when we are all rushing around and will need to make allowances but not for day to day." The girls all nodded. "For now I'd suggest you three share the bathroom at Anna's end of the corridor and Brent can have exclusive access to his. If there are problems we can't get around I'll review that. Any objections?" "I don't have a problem sharing with him if it makes things easier." "Thanks Hailey and it might be necessary but let's see how separate little boys and little girls rooms works first." "As for your bedroom behaviour..." Ma wasn't sure whether generalisations would be better than anything specific. "I'm sure you don't want anyone banging on your doors telling you to hold the noise down. Look, we know that part of Doug and my concern over Roger and Anna was the possibility of her getting pregnant. That was only part of it and all the other issues still apply. We want her to do well at school and if you are part of this family then we expect you to live up to your abilities and to ask for any assistance you need. "To that end I expect you in your own beds at a reasonable time on weeknights. Weekends I won't complain about discrete companionship. No-one is going to raise a fuss at you coming out of someone else's bedroom in the morning..." "Unless it's Brent's room," I interrupted. "I don't need your help thank you Roger." "Sorry." I wasn't. "...unless you think you can flaunt your behaviour instead of maintaining some decorum. Likewise sensible kissing and hugging would be okay while making out - dressed or otherwise - would not. I don't really have to spell it all out do I? Just put yourselves in my place and ask yourselves whether *YOU* would put up with a particular behaviour." Ma figured that would likely be her best argument in future - "Would you accept that sort of behaviour if you were me?" "I'd like you to give me a list of your teachers and subjects please so I can visit your headmistress and see that there is no trouble with you continuing with your studies. I *WILL* expect that your behaviour at school - and this includes you Anna - will be such that I am not called there on your account. If others find out about Roger or yourselves and makes anything of it I expect you to try to avoid escalating the problem further. If you do maintain your decorum you can expect me to support you. If you bring difficulties on your own heads..." Ma couldn't say she wouldn't support them still; that was why they were here now after all. --- Doug handed the papers over to Ma. "Duly signed and notarised copies. You now have three daughters Elsie." "I can't believe it all happened so fast." "Nice to see at least some of our government employees are efficient." I didn't say we weren't supported by the Government, the Congress, nor even the more secretive agencies that were. We could call on them though at times. People with an interest in our work climbed ladders all over the place until they were able to see that work could proceed. He took me aside and we had a parting man-to-man. "I don't know whether to wish you well, wish you gone, or wish you were staying! I'm sorry you won't be around for many reasons - you are pleasant and have helped Anna with her studies,..." "Sorry to interrupt but Rosalee should be able to help there if Anna needs it - I think Anna just has some trouble understanding how the teacher explains things." "Thank you. I'll watch out for that. As for you, when you aren't interrupting, you work well - here and at the caf - I would have hoped to see you succeed in some career; perhaps I still might since Ma says you will likely be back. I don't exactly understand what you are mixed up with and I'm not eager to have my family mixed up in it either. I hope, if and when you do return, that side of things is behind you." "I might not be entirely free of it for a while but it won't follow me back here." "I hope you are right. I don't condone what you and Anna did, especially after the explicit instructions you were both given. You've turned my household upside down and I don't see that recovering for a while, especially in your absence. There are going to be girls here pining after you, missing families who apparently are happy to be rid of them - and that surprises me from what I've seen of Rosalee and Hailey and what Ma tells me about them. Anna would have to do a lot worse than get caught in your bed for me to even think I'd be better off with her out of my life - and don't think Ma hasn't told me that there has been more going on than I want to know about!" "She was always safe, and always loved." "And, I maintain, always too young to get that serious and certainly that quickly! One thing I wouldn't say unless you were going, and despite the fact it was my daughter involved, was that you amaze me. You walk into a town and before your sheets need changing you have three girls doing whatever you ask of them! You must have a sterling silver tongue!" "I think I was lucky in finding girls who enjoyed each others company and were adventurous. You ended up pretty lucky with Ma yourself. I hope I'm with someone as compatible and enjoyable in twenty years time." "Just so long as you aren't trying to steal her now." I shook my head. I wasn't about to say anything to make him think I did, or didn't, see Ma worthy of consideration. With Doug recovering from his shock discovery of Anna naked in my bed I didn't want give him further reason to resent me. --- I spent a little time with each girl, nothing sexual, simply holding, hugging, kissing and crying. We said little except "I love you" and "I'll miss you." Each one threatened to track me down if I didn't return. I didn't doubt they would try. I reassured both Rosalee and Hailey that they wouldn't have to worry about the Jamieson's paying for their upkeep. "The program I'm under was paying them for me and I'm valuable enough for them to cover the two of you for long enough to see you through college if you want. We'll have opportunities to talk before then, just don't spread that around - as far as the world knows you're just under a normal foster-care scheme and Doug and Ma are seeing to your expenses." I teased them all a little too. "If you go to work at the coffee bar (with Anna) don't let Stephanie take too many liberties - no more than one kiss a shift! You never know when I might call in for a coffee." I stressed the normalcy that would return to their lives once people became used to their change of address. It would be difficult in the meantime and I apologised that I wouldn't be there to help. I promised to keep in touch though whenever possible. Though I didn't say it, there were people who could provide assistance; contacts rather than part of our organisation and I would be the one paying their retainers. It wasn't the least I *COULD* do but until I could provide more support on my own it was the very least I *WOULD* do. All three met me out the back where Doug had spoken at length to me. They each had a pack for me - a zip-lock bag sealing a pair of panties that they had donned specially to pick up the scent of their pussies as they had masturbated while I spoke to one of their number. "If you get horny you can open a bag and *REMEMBER* us." "I won't need to smell them to remember you girls while I *REMEMBER* us together but thank you. I'll keep them safe - and try not to use them up before you refresh them for me." --- Though we were all expecting it, the knock on the door was still a shock. No-one had been particularly hungry - there would be leftovers for tomorrow I was sure. No-one was talking much either as we sat watching the news. Two police cars had pulled in quietly with the dark sedan following. The officers had been told they had no reason to fear their objective would be dangerous but never-the- less they took no chances. An officer moved stealthily down each side of the house to guard against my fleeing, another stood ready to assist and the fourth uniformed officer, together with the two supposed FBI agents, rang the doorbell. "Ma'am," he nodded to Ma. "Do you have a Roger Torrent living at this address?" "Yes. What is this about?" "I have a warrant for his arrest. Is he here at the moment?" Ma opened the door without asking to see the warrant. "Please come in." I would at least have been interested in seeing what it said. I might never see one again. Ma saw no need to query why her foster-son was being arrested when she knew it was a ruse to place me into protective custody. If they wanted to carry out their little play she would let them. She was more concerned with the fact she found the idea of me going at all to be worse than she had imagined. I was sitting quietly in the kitchen and stood carefully to face the officers as they entered, keeping my hands on the table until I was on my feet and then holding them out away from my sides. "Roger Torrent?" "Yes?" "I have a warrant her for your arrest on charges of Grand Theft Auto in the state of Wisconsin and trafficking in stolen goods, namely automobile parts. I want you to place your hands behind your head and then turn slowly away from me." I did so and I felt him slip one side of the handcuffs onto my wrist before lowering my arm and then bringing my other arm down to be secured to it. My three lovers looked at me in some despair. We had said our goodbyes earlier knowing that they might not be permitted physical contact now. It didn't seem enough but I doubted it ever would. The officers performed the legal niceties and I was led outside. I could see people watching from across the street. I hoped I did no damage to either the Jamieson's social standing, nor to the Foster Care program. Ma and the girls huddled together in the doorway as I was loaded into the back seat of the Federal agents' car. I looked at each in turn through the window as the other officers withdrew and were thanked for their assistance. Anna, who had been my first real love. Rosalee, who was so impetuous and full of life and love. Hailey, who was even more loving if that was possible - not just to me but to her female partners as well. Elsie - Ma! - who had given me a different sort of love. I wish I had proven a better son since she was a better mother than I had known. I silently apologised again for all the grief I'd heaped on her and Doug over the last couple of days but if there was anyone who would look out for the other people I loved it would be her. I would miss them! *********************** THE END ***********************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Assassin Part: Chapter 22 of 27 Summary: Ass, sass and sin. A young assassin does more than befriend people when he tries to get close to his targets. Keywords: Mf, Mfff, ff, oral, exhib, voy Language: English Copyright: 2009 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* I needed a cover story while I got close enough to a slippery bastard called Adam Pringle to make sure he didn't cause any more grief in the world. Somehow I ended up screwing my foster-sister Anna as well as two of her friends, Hailey and Rosalie. Somehow we all fell in love. *SOMEHOW* I've got to try and settle this mess without breaking too many hearts. ********************************************************* Anna and I walked to Hailey's for Sunday dinner - hand in hand again. Rosalee was already there. Hailey's parents greeted us and I wasn't sure if we were all better off if it appeared Anna and I were now an item. We'd gotten by before in an uncertain state and that allowed me to date Hailey and Rosalee as well. Against that was the likelihood their parents would speak about us *AND* the possibly more liberal attitude that Rosalee and Hailey's parents would show to us all if I wasn't chasing their daughter anymore. It didn't matter that much since I wasn't going to be around to reap the benefits but the plus to Anna in getting first billing would be at the cost of Rosalee and Hailey feeling slighted. For now I would sit by Anna and Hailey so we could decide either way later; I would have to make that up to Rosalee somehow. Things never work out exactly as one expects; Hailey had to help her mother and Mr Draper kept Anna, Rosalie and myself "entertained". This consisted mainly in discussing how the soccer team had been going, how we were managing at school, and what we expected to do when finished. Whether it was merely coincidence or intentional - either as a compliment to me or to make any relationship with Hailey more difficult - I ended up sitting between Hailey's father and Rosalee. Hailey sat opposite me with Anna and then Hailey's younger sister Yvonne all squashed together on the one side while Hailey's mother was on the end opposite her father. We sat through grace as performed by Mr Draper and then started handing around the bowls as the person to our left helped themselves before holding the bowl in turn so the person on *THEIR* left could be served. Each person thereby got to wait on another - was this yet another subtle way for Mr Draper to put me in a subservient role to him? I might have wondered at the situation but I did not allow it to influence my behaviour. Much of the food was bite-sized and the rest easily cut with the side of a fork so Rosalee had no qualms transferring her fork to her right hand and eating one- handed. Since I was using both of my implements I couldn't very well react to Rosalee using her left hand to rub my crotch. I tried to remain nonchalant - but it wasn't easy when Rosy managed to pull my zipper down and then get my treacherous prick out. It could have hardened *BEFORE* she eased it through the opening and perhaps thereby foiled her intentions. Instead I was having a conversation with the father of one of my girlfriends while another girlfriend gripped my prick and rubbed my knob with her thumb. Hailey and Anna mustn't have noticed anything special - other than Rosalee's chair butting against mine when we had the whole of our side of the table to spread out. They certainly didn't give either of us any strange looks which was at least reassuring to me. Of course Mr Murphy had to be a bastard and Captain Cock- up called to visit as well. Yvonne dropped her knife and had bent over before we could react. She straightened in her chair after an extremely long delay and looked at Rosalee and then me with an open mouth. Acting on the assumption I had nothing to lose by being bold, I winked at her and her expression changed to a grin. She finished her meal without mentioning anything though she clumsily dropped her spoon when dessert was served. That didn't help her. Rosalee had come to her senses and recognised the difficulties she might be causing. I was tucked carefully away when Yvonne looked again and Rosalee's hand was casually resting on her own lap - outside her clothing - while she continued to eat her own meal. When Yvonne looked up from below this time she had a slight pout on her lips. Again she looked at Rosalee and then me. I raised my eyebrows instead of winking and she smiled at me. It was mischievous though and I wondered if I had overcome the problems of one lover's sister only to have them replaced with another's. I doubted I could use the first solution again. We finished dinner and Hailey stacked their dishwasher with her mother. At "home" we were all expected to help; here the housework was a woman's task yet Hailey's sister was allowed to avoid helping do more than lay the table. Cleaning up didn't take long though and Hailey soon rejoined us. "Can we all go into my room please Dad?" I guessed it was my presence that made permission necessary. "Okay. I don't have to tell you." "Can I come?" Fortunately Mr Draper was the one to refuse Yvonne's wishes. Hailey quietly closed her door and, since Rosalee had thrown her arms around my neck, Hailey embraced Anna with similar enthusiasm before Rosalee and Hailey swapped partners and Hailey and I sucked face instead. "Did *SHE* make any more moves on *OUR* pretty boy?" asked Hailey. "No," I answered, "but she might have made a move on our pretty girl." "It wasn't just me," insisted Anna as the others turned to look in amazement at her. "She asked me what was going on with the three of us and if Roger knew. Then she suggested she would be interested if we - Roger and I - were open to others." "And then Stephanie kissed Anna." "You saw them?" "No such luck. Anna told all." "But why did she think anything was going on between us?" "It can only be the way we kissed," Anna decided. "Well let's see," I encouraged. "If you were saying goodbye to, oh, Tracy from soccer. How would you do it?" "Just 'See you Trace'. That's all." The others agreed with Anna. "What if she was leaving the team?" Anna looked at Rosalee and imagined she was someone else in the circumstances I had described. She put her arms around Rosalee and hugged her with their cheeks together. "See you Trace. We'll miss you." "How about a good friend who has been away over summer and has just brought you back a lovely present?" Anna hugged Rosalee much the same but this time kissed her cheek. "Tracy, it's lovely. Thank you." "Now how did you say goodbye to Rosy and Hailey?" Anna stepped back. She couldn't go from the mindset of one situation to the other without a fresh start. I watched both of them. They made and kept eye contact; there was a slight smile shared between them and then Anna pressed her lips to Rosalee's cheek and Rosalee did the same to Anna. "When you kissed me you had your hand on my hip." Anna moved her hand lower. "And I remember feeling your tit in the middle of mine," added Rosalee. Anna kissed her again and their lips touched as they parted from their cheeks. Anna looked at Rosy and leaned forward. This time there was no suggestion of cheek at all. "You didn't do that," commented Hailey. After a few seconds more of the passionate kiss Anna took time to say, "I wanted too." "I think we've established a case." I turned to Hailey who nodded. "Yeah. We didn't kiss like friends." "More like lovers," I confirmed. "Shit!" complained Anna. "We are going to have to be so careful. You two haven't done anything at school that might have given you away have you?" "Like kissing or holding hands? No," answered Hailey disdainfully, as though the question was unnecessary. "It could also be how you look at each other. I saw that with both Anna and Rosalee then. They looked eager to embrace each other." "Well you two shouldn't be the only ones allowed to cuddle in here," Anna responded to me. "He's right though," said Hailey as she reached down to rub my crotch. "You did look very lovey-dovey even before you kissed." "I can't help it," moaned Anna, mocking herself. "I keep thinking back to what it's like kissing you both properly." "Well at least you didn't give me a hand job at dinner - while Hailey's sister watched." "What!" Hailey looked at Rosalee. "You didn't!" "I stopped when Yvonne caught me." Rosalee protested as if that made everything all right. "You can't go taking those sort of chances - it *WILL* get us hung." "Sorry. It was just so exciting." "Would you have done it in your home though? And what if Yvonne says anything? What if she'd said it then?" "Was it that much different from you and Anna at the restaurant? Yeah, if Roger comes to dinner I'd love to do it again." "I'll have to sit someone between us then." "Think that would stop me lover?" Rosalee grinned at me. "As for Yvonne, I don't think she will say anything. She looked disappointed when she had a second look. She dropped her spoon deliberately," I clarified for Hailey. "She tried to have a second look at your prick!" "Ah-huh" "Well I don't plan on sharing you, any of you, with another person be it Yvonne or that Stephanie girl." "I think we're all in agreement there," I tried to settle things down. "I am sorry Hailey. I won't do it again - really." "Oh I don't mind you doing things like that - I can't really take the high ground, can I? But we all have to think of what happens when someone like Yvonne sees. If it's just us with some adults, we get killed; if a kid sees us, we get crucified.' "Yeah. I do see that now. Can you forgive me?" "Of course." "Then, perhaps, could I try that thing Anna did with Roger? Please?" "What thing?" Anna and Hailey chorused. "Getting all of it into her mouth." "Now!?" "Why not?" Though it may have been more sensible for me to protest, I stayed out of the discussion. While the suggestion was attractive, it *WAS* Hailey's house and Rosalee had already caused one crisis - I being, of course, entirely without blame. Anna came out in favour of a little adventure - she was almost as bad as Rosalee. If it had simply been her and I then I'm sure Stephanie would have soon received an invitation to join us; except that, had it only been Anna and myself, Anna probably wouldn't have looked as favourably on another joining us - especially a girl - and Stephanie wouldn't have had cause to speak to Anna as she had. Anna put forward reasoned arguments for treating Rosalee's request favourably. Hailey protested repeatedly about the danger. Rosalee managed an occasional sensible rebuttal and quite a few simply from the heart. I myself thought Hailey might have made her case stronger if she hadn't slipped her hand inside my fly to hold my bare member while she spoke. Eventually I suspect it was Anna's suggestion that she and Hailey could fool around together while they watched Rosy and I that swayed Hailey. Hailey released me, grabbed Rosalee's lapels and pulled her close for a kiss before warning her to wait. She then went out to see what her family were doing - under the cover of grabbing four glasses and a bottle of soft drink. "Okay - but be quiet!" "Shouldn't we talk normally?" suggested Anna. "My parents always suspected things were going on if I was too quiet." Rosalee let them argue. She took over from where Hailey had left off, pulling my prick through my fly and then kneeling to suck on it to make sure that it was hard enough. I heard "You played really well yesterday Hailey" behind me and turned to see Anna slipping her hand inside Hailey's panties while Hailey was struggling to get her hand into Anna's. She managed it and briefly responded, "The whole team did," before burying her tongue in Anna's throat. "Play with yourself while you lay across the bed," I instructed Rosalee in a whisper then I contributed to the "conversation" as well. "You seem to be improving - do you think you have a chance at winning the competition?" No-one answered me! Anna and Hailey couldn't have gotten any closer without removing their clothing and Rosalee, hand manoeuvring inside her own underwear, was busy lining herself up under me and was more interested in what was about to go into her mouth than what could come out of it. I was standing a little too far away and Rosalee sucked hard, trying to get me to move closer. I would be lying if I denied thinking of staying there so she would repeat the process. I crossed my arms at the wrists and slid one hand then the other inside Rosy's top and under her bra. The V of her shirt allowed just enough access and I had a choice of looking down her body to where her fingers moved inside her pants, between my elbows where I could watch my prick obscuring her face, or over my shoulder where Anna and Hailey were trying to think of things to say when all they wanted to do was compliment each other on what was happening to them. I was careful with Rosalee. She was eager to prove she could match Anna - perhaps too eager. I tried to keep her from choking herself; it wasn't easy. Rosalee had hold of my pants; her fingers trapped in the bottom of my fly so her knuckles pressed under my balls. She used the fabric to pull me closer or to force me away and to a large degree I went as she instructed. It felt good even when Rosalee had to cough me out of her throat - actually I was only just resting at the entrance to her throat and it felt especially good *WHEN* she coughed while I was there. She didn't gag as such; whatever reflex was triggered made her diaphragm twitch generating a cough rather than some heaving of her stomach. I don't know if that would make it easier for Rosalee to deep throat someone - preferably me - or impossible. After three attempts saw her spluttering I suggested she should give that a rest. Rosalee interpreted my comments to mean I wanted a normal blowjob and proceeded to suck my dick like a vacuum cleaner - she reverted to the time when she felt a forceful approach was better. I took my hands out of her top and asked her to stop. "Rosy love. Let me sit down and you can rest your head in my lap." I might just hold you in my arms and kiss you for a while instead though, I thought to myself. Rosalee had to take her own hand out of her clothing as well. Unfortunately, while she was moving around on the bed, the sight of my prick sticking up from my lap attracted two vultures who apparently couldn't tell that the meat was anything but dead. Anna and Hailey had pleasured each other to a state where they either had to have a rest or else needed to continue to a mutual conclusion. Neither was ready to finish things just yet so a silent conversation between them saw hands removed from their crotches to seize mine as I made Rosalee comfortable in my arms. Anna knelt one side and they pushed my prick one way or the other so they could take turns sucking or licking it. Rosalee didn't take long to catch on to what was literally going on behind her back. Since I had my thumb rubbing her pussy through her pants I doubted she really cared for a while. I was busy kissing Rosalee when the doorknob turned and it slowly opened. There was little I could do. Any abrupt action on my part would have only made matters worse. Even laying Rosalee back down over my lap would have left Anna and Hailey explaining their kneeling position. It would be an explanation that would require some reason for my naked prick once Rosalee was required to move off me. I did what I could, moving my wayward hand behind Rosalee's back and ending our kiss. I saw a hand and then part of a face. "Come in Yvonne and close the door behind you please." Hailey who had my prick between her lips almost bit down on me and Anna's hand tightened around my shaft and balls. "Yvonne!! What are you doing in here!?" At least Hailey kept things to a whisper. "I wanted to see what you were doing." Yvonne looked at me. "Is Hailey your girlfriend?" I wasn't about to deny it in front of Hailey. I doubt I would have denied such a straight forward question even if she had been absent. "She's a girl and she's my friend - a very special friend, so I guess that makes her my very special girlfriend." "If she's your girlfriend how come you're holding Rosalee and how come she was, you know, earlier? How come Anna was holding you just then?" "We are very special friends too and it feels nice to hold each other." Hailey looked fit to burst. "Can you go now please? And don't say anything about this to *ANYONE* understand?" "I won't, but..." "Yes?" "You were kissing it!" It wasn't a question but there was a question none-the- less. "Kissing is another way of holding each other close." I tried to satisfy Yvonne's curiosity, knowing we were better off remaining on a friendly basis than upsetting her and perhaps sending her straight to her parents. Yvonne looked at her sister. "Before I go, can I just hold it for a second?" "Yvonne! No!" "Why not? Rosalee and Anna did. I just want to see what it feels like." I needed to be careful. Yvonne wasn't much younger than Hailey but she was still jail bait. I was *NOT* going to touch her nor encourage her to touch me but if that was what it took to keep her quiet I would stoically put up with her hand fondling my member. Hailey was apparently having similar thoughts. She didn't want her sister getting familiar with me and certainly didn't want me getting familiar with her sister. I could only contrast the difference between Yvonne's approach and that of the late Michelle. Yvonne was honestly curious, thought things were fun and, having had matters somewhat explained, was happy to keep things secret - especially if she was permitted to share the secret. Michelle had quite openly given a list of demands and consequences if they weren't met in full. Was the difference only a matter of how spoilt Michelle was? Or did Michelle have a warped nature? I appreciated Yvonne's request more than Michelle's demand. When Hailey looked at me she must have read my acceptance in my eyes. I certainly said or did nothing to indicate I thought they should go ahead. "Okay - just a quick hold and then you're out of here. Right?" "Okay." Yvonne's cheery response preceded her reaching out with her hand. I was still damp from her sister's mouth and Yvonne adjusted her hold as she touched me. "Is that okay?" Hailey looked from my prick to my face. "Not quite so hard." "Do I move my hand up and down like Rosalee did?" "Just once so you can see how the foreskin moves back to show the smooth knob. Once, I said!" "It's hard but still soft. Thank you Roger. Was that good?" I nodded. Yvonne stood again and went to the door. "Can I learn to kiss it some time please?" This time I beat Hailey to answer. "You have to be at least sixteen so, when you are - and if you've shown you can keep quiet in the meantime - we can discuss it then if you still want to." Yvonne must have been working out how long that would be. The answer seemed to have been acceptable. "Okay. Thank you." She left and I held up my hand when Hailey seemed about to complain. I indicated to Anna to check the door. She did - not sneakily, but as though she was going to the toilet. There was no-one around. "What did you promise that for?" "Hailey love, I didn't promise anything other than to talk with her once she was sixteen. If anything she promised to keep quiet as a condition for further talks." I had Rosalee sit up so I could stand. "And when she's ready for those talks and wants to learn to kiss your prick?" "Well first of all she'll be sixteen so if she does then it's not as critical as far as the law is concerned. It will be as critical as far as *YOU* are concerned so maybe we need to consider how to make her change her mind. The first thing I'd suggest is that, if she has her own boyfriend she is not going to be interested in me. "Towards that end, you might want to give her a little girl-to-girl advice on kissing a boy in the true sense, handling his package and maybe about 'kissing it'. Let her find someone she likes who will appreciate her practising on him and the question isn't likely to arise." "And she'll keep quiet in the meantime!" Hailey swung her arms around my neck and kissed me. I felt I was being rewarded without having earned it; I wouldn't be around to face a sixteen year old Yvonne anyway. All I had done was to make it less likely she would say anything at the cost of having my prick squeezed a little tightly and then rubbed in a quite nice manner for a couple of seconds. Now if Yvonne could only resist bragging to her friends - or resist bragging *TOO* much. Catching her sister kissing her boyfriend's prick and being allowed to hold it might not hurt; including Anna and Rosalee in the story might. Hailey must have decided that, since it *WAS* her room, *AND* she currently had possession of my body, *AND* she wasn't going to have the opportunity for a while again, that I might like to take the chance of one last bareback ride before I had to used the condoms again. She put the suggestion to me and, having seen my smile, disappeared again to make sure the way was clear and clean. I had certainly been made aware of the mechanics of dealing with a girl's monthly cycle in a very short time span. Hailey returned before Anna and Rosalee had time to do more than kiss me a few times - alternating while both fondled me and while I cupped their asses in my hands. They didn't bother with each other, well aware that they could do that once Hailey had claimed me. I was certainly in no danger of going down while she was gone - or rather of shrinking, to avoid any misunderstanding. "Make way girls - he's mine for a few minutes." "Surely you want him for longer than that? asked Anna. "Want him, yes. Can afford to risk any longer, no. Unless you'd like to come back later?" "Not tonight, I'm afraid." "Well if you're out walking I'll leave the curtains open a little so you can tell it is safe to knock." "I'll leave mine open as well - even though you can't come in. Maybe I can sneak out if you'd like a blowjob on the back porch." Anna had her arms around Rosalee, standing behind her with her cheek on Rosalee's shoulder as they both watched Hailey organise me. "You could always say you needed to look at the stars for Science." "That's not a bad idea Anna. What night suits you Roger?" "If I think I can make it I'll call you - or get Anna to if she will." I was sitting on the bed, Hailey's night dress spread over the quilt and my pants down below my knees. Hailey had returned without panties on under her skirt and she turned her back towards me before standing with a foot either side of mine. A little groping between her legs was followed by her hand guiding me into place as she sat down. I slid in without any fuss and Hailey sighed as she reached her full depth. We sat there, my arms around her waist matching Anna's around Rosalee's, then, as Anna reached inside Rosalee's pants, I did the same under Hailey's skirt - lifting it so our friends could clearly see my finger sliding down to meet the side of my prick. They watched, obviously interested, and I guess Hailey and I were equally affected by the sight of Rosalee beginning to squirm at Anna's touch. "Maybe Anna should go walking at night - you both seem to like her special massages." "I get as good as I give," declared Anna before nibbling Rosalee's neck as well. Hailey shifted backwards and forwards, beginning to set a rhythm while lifting herself as well. It felt good to me and I had to renew the discussion, not only as camouflage but also to take my mind off what she was doing to me. "We will have to go bowling again sometime. It was fun." "Yes," agreed Rosalee. "I thought the whole day was lovely. Even better than our walk in the park." "Mmm," added Anna. "I don't know. Both days were good and we certainly had fun yesterday but I think the park was a day to remember. What about you Hailey?" "Today has its points as well. I'd agree that it would be impossible to forget our swim but I can't forget my first date with Roger either. Actually I don't think I've had one date with him that hasn't proven memorable. You're a dear for finding ways to show us a good time. What have you got planned for next weekend?" Ah! Next weekend. The thought almost made me shrink. "I still don't know as much about the city as you three. Of course I could just veg out and let the three of you find something to do without me." I was sailing close to hidden rocks. I couldn't say I wouldn't be there at the weekend and I had to hope none of them would read anything more into my comments when they did have to entertain themselves. I only hoped I didn't have to die in a road smash since that would *POSSIBLY* upset them more than my leaving under circumstances where I could come back. I say possibly because they might consider it a good thing I go if they felt I'd betrayed them. As I said it though I noticed Rosalee looked as Hailey (and I was sure Hailey was looking straight back at her) while Anna lifted her head from her Dracula act and considered Rosalee's profile instead of her neck. The idea of a girls-only night, or day, out did not seem to stress them. It was good to know that their worlds did not entirely revolve around me - disturbing though that may be to my ego. Of course they *COULD* all be thinking of a joint lingerie shopping expedition where, though I might see the final results, I wouldn't see what went on in the change rooms. "So what would you prefer? A round of golf? Skydiving? Bobsledding?" "It's almost Summer and it feels like we're in semi- desert. Where the hell can we bobsled?" "Patagonia?" "Can we get there and back in one day?" Everyone looked at Rosalee. Hailey even stopped moving - damn her! "I'm joking!" Rosy complained. "Sheesh! Anyone would think I had blonde roots!" "I like the idea of golf," said Hailey, restoring some sense of normality to the conversation. "We could play as pairs, changing at each hole and the losing pair would have to service the winning pair before continuing." "There would be a lot of groups having to play through," I pointed out. Since Hailey was energetically moving in my lap again I had no objection to her supporting the suggestion. "They might follow us as spectators rather than playing through," Anna noted. "Plus there isn't any incentive to play well - *SOME* of us might intentionally lose!" "Ah," countered Hailey, "but if there were a five stroke limit per hole..." "She's had more than five strokes in that hole," Rosalee said in an aside to Anna that was intended to be heard by us all. "A five stroke limit would mean everyone trying to lose would just draw and that would mean no winners and no losers! Is that enough incentive to win?" "You could modify the rules," Anna decided. "Losing pair removes an item of clothing, winning pair replaces one. Guaranteed to get a following if you don't play too well." "Strip golf! Followed by nude bungy jumping or nude bobsled racing!" No nude skydiving? I thought. Rosalee could always be depended on to add something extra to what had already been proposed. I knew I would have been willing to follow her around 18 holes on the off chance she would end up losing seven or eight holes more than she won. Of course a winning strategy on Rosy's part would be to lose the first two holes, remove blouse and bra, and then just carry them until she reached the 18th. It would take a steady player - or a gay one - to avoid being moved by her sizable yet stylish tits. Mark, my poor late friend, would have been able to manage. I wondered, and not for the first time, whether Julia was upset by his death. That made me think of how I should appear at school in the morning - an exercise guaranteed to allow me to last just a little longer as Hailey used her fingers on herself, having pushed mine out the way when I stopped to talk about golf. I would have to show some sorrow - I had grown closer to both twins in a short period than any of the others but I could use the crime boss angle to indicate I had been wary of getting any closer. It would be understandable that the new kid in town could fall for an unattached Kyra and then decide that the reasons she remained single were enough to want to get out before getting so involved getting out was no longer an option. It was no good. Unless I wanted to recite Presidents forwards and backwards there was nothing I was going to be able to do to stop myself reacting to Hailey's delightful fucking. Had it not been for her parents' presence there was no reason why I would want to. Hailey was close enough that she would either topple over the barrier between her and orgasm or else she would have reached a satisfactory state that I had been told was an acceptable substitute. I didn't actually believe that myself. I had trouble accepting that women were so much different from men that they could be taken to the brink of release and would then happily turn over and go to sleep once their partner had come. I didn't have to worry. Hailey felt the mini-explosion beneath her and her fingers worked a little magic so that my prick was squeezed as the slightly stronger aftershock of her orgasm caused her muscles to contract. She pulled my hand to her mouth, kissed my palm and then held it to her mouth to muffle her attempts to squeal. That wasn't enough and she bit down into the flesh at the base of my thumb. Now it was my turn to stifle a yell! The pain didn't last long and Hailey didn't actually draw blood; besides, the way she shook inside felt almost good enough to overcome the discomfort. Almost! And I still had to deal with Anna and Rosalee grinning at my expression. Hailey must have opened her eyes at the same time as she relaxed her jaw because her fangs had no sooner ceased their attempt to meet through the meat when she asked an innocent, "What?" "Have a look at Roger's hand," suggested Anna. Since she was busy trying to make Rosalee copy Hailey, Rosalee wasn't in a position for coherent speech and continued to grin, as much from her own pleasure now as from my discomfort. "Oh Roger! I'm sorry. Does it hurt?" "Not so much now. It's alright. How are you?" "Wonderful. I wish I could sit her for a while longer but I think I've been too long as it is. Thank you Roger. That felt really, really good." I hugged her to me. "It did, didn't it love? But I think you deserve most of the credit." Hailey didn't abandon me straight away; Rosalee was close enough that we both enjoyed watching her while knowing we were as physically close as we could possibly be and emotionally close enough to make things perfect. It may be that the very real danger of being discovered - again - was still having an effect too as I didn't lose any rigidity before Hailey eventually stood. Rosy had come; her knees weakening so Anna had to support her with a forearm across Rosalee's belly and a hand under her pubic bone. It was fun to watch and Anna obviously had fun making our lover shiver. With the floor show over, Hailey tickled my balls with her fingertips and then finally stood. She took a step forward and turned to look at my crotch. My prick stood proud, covered only in the gleam of my cum and Hailey's juices. "Oh! I didn't think about you needing to wash. You can't very well walk down the passage with that sticking out." I reached into my pocket for a handkerchief. "This will do." "Sure? Okay, I'll be back." At least Hailey was better looking than Arnie. I wiped myself off, the area needing attention diminishing as I worked - then pulled my pants up from around my ankles. I sniffed the air; if Hailey's parents came in would they be able to smell the sex that had taken place? I didn't think so but spotted a small bottle of perfume on a shelf and put a small dab on the wrist of both Anna and Rosalee - I didn't think Hailey would mind in the circumstances. In the process I noticed the time. It was embarrassingly late - I preferred not having to fuck and run but if we were to walk Rosalee home and then meet our own curfew we couldn't delay much longer. Hailey returned and sniffed the air as she threw her arms around my neck again. She looked at her table then ignored the perfume's scent. "Thank you again. I really like making love with you and it's great to share the experience. I love you." "I love you too Pet and it has been wonderful, but..." "I know. I might not let go of you though and Anna and Rosy will just have to walk home alone while you live in my wardrobe." "Oh well, at least I'll have nice clothes to wear though they might be a bit tight." "You can continue to wear me - I seem to fit nicely." "We all do," reminded Anna, "and if Roger gets to stay so do I!" "You could always stay and Roger could take me home," offered Rosy. "I've got an even bigger wardrobe." "And a sister in the same room," Hailey pointed out. "Is there room for three in your wardrobe?" I asked Hailey. "Four! I'm not leaving the three of you in there without me." "Maybe it would be easier to just get a lock for your door," I suggested. "Damn it's hard saying goodnight! You're so lucky Anna." "I still have to say goodnight - it's just usually a bit later." I was reminded just how much harder goodbye was going to be. I made way so Anna and Rosalee could say their goodnights to Hailey as well and then it was a matter of each of us having our appearance double-checked before we thanked Mr and Mrs Draper again and said goodnight to them and a cheeky-faced Yvonne. She looked as though she was tempted to come to the door with us but a glare from her big sister settled her back in her seat. I confess that, had the girls been a couple of years older, having Yvonne and Hailey in bed together might have been interesting though I doubt I could have survived with Anna and Rosy demanding equal shares of my time. At the door I provided shelter for the other girls to say a final passionate goodnight and then it was my turn again. "Don't forget my window," reminded Hailey. "I won't." She watched the three of us walk down to the footpath and then blew us three kisses before going back inside. "You'll have to come for dinner at my house.' "That would be nice Rosy love," Anna replied. "Yes it would," I added. We were able to walk with our arms around each other as three friends and, provided we left enough time between kisses to make the activity less obvious, I could press my lips first to the left and then to the right as we walked. Anna and Rosalee held hands behind my back. "It's fairly dark and there's a park up ahead. Do you think we have time to say goodbye there? I'm likely to be watched when we get to my house." I looked at my watch. "We might have to run home afterwards. Are you fit?" Anna looked disgusted with me. "Soccer! Remember!?" "Okay - you're fit." I grinned. "Now it's just a matter of whether you want to need to run." Anna pushed me away from Rosalee, linked arms with her and set off for the park. I gave a chuckle and followed. Walking behind two young athletic ladies with clothing that emphasised their tight buns was not a punishment! This park wasn't as secluded as the one where Rosalee had shared Hailey's first date with me and there wouldn't be the time to get as adventurous. "You missed out at Hailey's. Would you like me to fix you up this time Anna?" "Mmm, thank you Love." The girls were sorting themselves out before I'd properly arrived and I surveyed the area as I joined them. A park bench appeared suitable - we could be seen but discrete activities would remain private. "Would you like to lean against the back of the bench Roger dearest?" "Of course Rosy my love." Rosy was having fun organising us but she wasn't being careless. While not being obvious she checked out the neighbourhood as I had done on the way in from the street. I was proud of the way she, as a complete novice, only missed two possibilities - neither of which were a problem right now. She had also positioned herself where she could keep an eye out - the location I normally would, and still should, have taken for myself. The night was quiet though and I would hear any normal intruders - I had no further belief that there would be any other than my own team in the area who would be classified as a special intruder. I had to act as a wall for Anna to lean against. A supportive wall perhaps but I was limited in what I was permitted to do. Anna was sandwiched between Rosalee and myself, getting kissed on the mouth by Rosy while I had to make do with nibbling her ears and neck from behind. Oh, Rosalee kissed me as well from time to time, especially after she had worked her hand inside Anna's pants. "Oh yes, wriggle your fingers up inside me. Hee, hee. I can feel someone getting hard behind me." "Do you want him to fuck you here instead?" offered Rosalee. "He could bend you over the seat of you could sit on his lap like Hailey?" "Too soon Love," I apologised. My endearment could have been addressed to either of them - perhaps I should have said "My Loves." "No, this is nice. I like your fingers inside me while you rub me with your thumb." "You have *GOT* to have a sleepover - I can't! Maybe that's what we should organise for next weekend." Anna was busy writhing for a second and then was swapping spit with Rosalee for a few seconds more before she could say "I'll ask." I could only think of how I'd be miserable, in some luxury resort for a week or so probably, unable to stop thinking of them together and probably not willing to be unfaithful just yet if that was ever going to be possible. Oh that didn't include fucking or fooling around for work - that wasn't going to worry me or make me feel guilty even if I enjoyed it. That was work. It wouldn't be me who enjoyed sharing someone's body in the same way it had been Roger Torrent who had fucked Kyra and Mark. That wasn't who I was even if it was the only name the three women in my heart knew me by. He was quieter than I had expected. Perhaps he had caught young lovers here previously and enjoyed the view? There was a warning cough off in the bushy surrounds that warned me to be on my guard and even then I couldn't suddenly abandon Anna and Rosalee without making us all more of a target. I did get a chance to whisper "What's that?" and to turn my head towards the street. That was enough to make Rosalee stop and listen but not to remove her hand. There was a man, his dog running almost free on a long lead in front of him. It came into sight well before him and gave Rosalee just enough time to get her hand out of Anna's pants. I watched as he arrived, easing Anna over to the other side of me and taking Rosalee into my arms so she too was close to and protected by my body. Why did I want to protect them so? I don't really know. If my backup says "Watch out!" - and that is how I interpreted the cough - I was inclined to pay attention. I hooked my toe under a Y-shaped length of branch and hefted it up into my hand. It was a distraction rather than a weapon but in a pinch it could be both shield and sword. A poke in the eye or gut with a pointy stick was not to be laughed at. Still, I didn't expect to need to use it and it wouldn't provide much against a quickly raised gun. "Oh, sorry there. I didn't mean to interrupt you young ones. Here girl. Oh, sorry again. She'll just be a second or two and we'll be on our way. Oh! It's Rosalee isn't it?" "Hello Mr Fletcher." "Bit late to be out isn't it? Though I guess it's none of my business." "We're just going home now. We've been out to dinner at a friend's." "Oh well, so long as you're in safe hands. I'll be off. Come on girl. Goodnight." He scooped up his dog's business into a small plastic bag and they continued on their own way home. "Neighbour," whispered Rosalee. "We'd better go." "Why?" asked Anna. It was Rosalee's expression rather than an actual desire to continue now that prompted the question. I agreed that Rosalee looked as if she'd been unlucky enough to tread in the dog's dropping rather than watch it be removed. "He'll tell Dad he saw us." "Your dad will see I was with you." "Anna, Dad will see you are with me when I get home but Mr Fletcher didn't see you. He'll say I was all alone with Roger. I'll be grounded." "That's not fair!" "Well," and Rosalee grinned, "it would be well and truly justified if only Dad knew. You'll come visit me in prison if I am locked up won't you?" "Don't write your weekend off yet," I commanded her. "But I'd better clean these up for you." I licked Rosalee's fingers. You wouldn't want your father smelling that over your perfume." We walked back onto the street and this time Rosalee walked between us and Anna and I held onto her farthest butt cheek rather than holding hands. As we neared Rosalee's house she said, "That one is Mr Fletcher's" and Anna took a half-step away from Rosalee and retrieved her arm though there was no actual sign of the man. Rosalee knocked on the door and we all went inside as evidence of Anna's presence in the group. We couldn't stay - we *WOULD* have to jog a little bit as it was - but strengthening Rosalee's alibi would benefit us all - damn it, except me! We were thanked for making sure Rosalee got home safely. "A girl could get molested walking near her home nowadays." It was necessary to avoid smiling. We weren't in the house long though; Rosalee, having heard of how Anna and I met, insisted I have a look at her window to see if she could have a night exit as well. I tried to put her off but having a look wasn't going to matter much so Anna and I went down the shadowed drive after managing to sneak in a couple more goodnight kisses each. As we got into position, Rosalee hurried inside and had stripped off so that when she threw the curtains apart to see us through the window she stood naked in the light. Anna and I appreciated the sight - as did Mr Fletcher who, once more, was not aware of Anna's presence. Rosalee blew us a kiss and turned around so we got to see the rest of her beautiful body. Completing the turn she lifted her breasts and leaned into the glass pane so they were squashed before us. They were less visible that way but her neighbour had no doubt how she was shamefully exposing herself. Fearful of discovery himself, he went inside and missed Anna and I each placing a hand against the outside of the window - over each fried egg tit. A call behind her startled Rosalee and she pulled the curtains closed. We imagined a hurried grab for night attire and left - but not before Anna and I had our own private cuddle in the suddenly darkened shadows. A glance at my watch told me we could still get home without serious loss of breath. Taking Anna's hand in mine we set off running - more a fast jog really. We ran two house blocks then walked the next two before running again. Run - walk - run - walk. It allowed us to rest our muscles briefly while keeping up the ground covered. We held hands the whole way; walked inside that way; greeted Ma and then Doug without letting go until Anna offered to get me a drink. Even then our fingers lingered, stretching out to delay the inevitable parting. We were watched as openly as we displayed our affection. It didn't matter to either of us; if anything Anna revelled in the freedom to finally say she was in love. Anna remembered to ask whether Rosalee and Hailey could stay the following weekend. Saturday was preferable but if their parents were insistent on Sunday morning Mass she proposed they could stay Friday night instead and then go to and return from Soccer with us. We didn't get an immediate answer but it sounded favourable. I would have to look at the window in the guest room - one girl might be there, the other might end up in my empty room. They may not need to sneak around but Anna might appreciate the ability to get to see her guests privately later/ We went up to our showers separately, Anna being detained briefly to be told that, while they liked me, both Ma and Doug wanted Anna especially to concentrate on her studies until the school year was done. I would probably be off to some college after my senior year and they could re- evaluate things while they expected me to be interested in keeping my own grades up. Anna didn't complain; there wasn't really anything to complain about. They hadn't said anything about restrictions on our relationship - a mistake on their parts since they intended that we continue under most of the earlier restrictions; in fact, they hadn't really spelt anything out in a way Anna could find objectionable. Of course we hadn't actually obeyed any of the earlier restrictions. She tapped on the bathroom door on her way past. "Goodnight Roger. Love you." "Goodnight Sweetheart." --- Around 90 minutes later I heard Anna outside my window. I had been going to give her parents and Brent another 15 minutes but she was obviously impatient. I opened the curtains - sans screen. Anna clambered through and I helped her to her feet. she immediately wrapped me in he arms. "Roger?" "Yes Sweetheart?" "After yesterday, and all the walking, standing and running we did today, I am a little tired. I still want to be with you but I was wondering if it was all right if we just cuddled for a while?" I chuckled. "Perfectly all right. You think I don't get tired too?" I was pleased not to have to perform; it wasn't that I got too much sex but rather it all seemed to happen at once. Saturday *HAD* been quite spectacular and Hailey had topped that off after dinner tonight without considering all the hand jobs and blow jobs and general fooling around. Anna herself had been left in a heightened stat in the park tonight so if anyone was going to want a little loving it was likely to be her - she must be tired. I lifted the covers and Anna climbed in after discarding her PJs. She might not want sex but that didn't mean she didn't want skin. I was already naked and Anna burrowed herself against my side where she could kiss me gently before drifting off. We spoke in our bedroom voices and Anna suggested that, if both girls could stay the next weekend, I should spend as much of the night with Rosalee as possible since I couldn't sneak into her room like I could with Hailey. I pointed out that it was almost as risky for me to do that. Apparently Anna thought I would find some way to make that easier - after all, Hailey's room had a window too! I was continually being drawn into conversations about situations I would miss out on! Hands explored, not encouraging further play but with relaxed caresses. We relaxed as well and somewhere along the line fell asleep. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Doppelganger Part: Chapter 3 of 31 Summary: Justin was born with a little extra - a set of female sex organs - but that was just the beginning. Keywords: mf, 1st, inc, voy, rom Language: English Copyright: 2005 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* ********************************************************* * This story considers two unusual youngsters with * * the usual teenage interest in matters sexual. * * * * As their relationship slowly unfolds, so does * * the erotic side of the story - hopefully more * * enjoyably than a simple "wham bam" would be. * ********************************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* INTRODUCTION Justin Rogers was born not quite 16 years ago with something special - a complete functional set of female sex organs. Just recently he had found they don't really belong to him but to his twin sister Tina who spent much of her early life sharing his body. From time to time she was able to visit as a distinct person but some survival instinct made her merge with him again before she was discovered. Now they have met properly and, sharing memories and experiences whenever they are merged (or "together" as opposed to being "with each other" as separate people), they have a similar outlook to many matters including their sexual awakening. ********************************************************* MONDAY WEEK 2 ============= "Justin! Are you up? It's almost eight. Everyone slept in." Justin felt the sudden dislocation, his bed was empty and his body seemed fuller. Of course, he had drunk as two but now had a single bladder. "Yes Mum. Coming." And then more quietly knowing SHE would still hear, "Good morning Tina. I love you." He hoped no-one caught him talking to himself. There was no answer. He noted the time and calculated what time it would be if Tina could match her last interval; he would be in class. He sincerely hoped she would check first. He would HAVE to make sure he had another set of clothes handy at all times. As he dressed he thought back to their wonderful night together. The feel of Tina resting against him in the bath, the taste of her pussy, the feel of his finger against his clit then later inside him, and the awful taste as his prick spewed forth its seed into his mouth. "Wait a minute - these aren't MY memories." Something had changed. Tina could remember all of his experiences but he had never recalled any of hers. It certainly didn't hurt as far as he could tell and he could now see how some of his actions WERE far nicer than others. He could also see why girls weren't always too thrilled with giving blowjobs, though it wasn't a topic any of them had raised near him - the schoolyard gossip had provided him with his only prior information, reliable or not. There was little time for further reminiscences and he hurried through breakfast so his father could drop him off on the way to work. He did wish his father wouldn't keep glancing over at him though. ----- Was his fly down? Did he have something in his hair? A sign on his back? Anything to account for the interest he was getting? No-one said anything except an occasional "Hello". He felt his hair and, more circumspectly in a casual sweep as though brushing crumbs away, his chest in case Tina had left more than her memories behind. No, he thankfully still had a masculine chest. So what was it? He rounded the corner of the corridor that took him to his first class and found someone who would be willing to tell him - the three friends they had avoided after the movies. "Okay what gives? I'm Public Enemy Number One or something?" Jake, tall and stick-like, spoke first. "I think it's that for some of them and envy for the others - sort of Public Hero Number One you might say - balances out as you're still the zero you were yesterday. "Thanks, but why?" "Come on, you can't deny it. We saw you with her. Who is she anyway?" "Justin ignored the last remark. "Deny what?" There was a sigh of exasperation. Considering the source of the story, and they had heard it first hand not through a series of revisionists, the three boys had no doubt their friend was guilty as charged; it was just something they would never, ever, have put money on though. "Apparently ...", Rick started and his voice said "Deny it if you will!" "Apparently you were seen getting a blowjob on State Street yesterday. By two reliable witnesses." Justin nodded and named Tyler and Kate. The other boys nodded in turn - this looked like confirmation to them. "Yep. Two reliable witnesses who saw one thing and thought another - Talk about dirty minds!" "Sure, sure; but who was she?" Baz tried to get an answer to the earlier question. "Just a cousin from out of town." "I though you only had male cousins." "The only ones around my age that I'd met were male. She has only started coming here recently." "So why did they think she was giving you a blow job? They say you had your trousers down right there on the sidewalk." "It's rather embarrassing", he temporised. "We had spotted a little lizard, a gecko, and had managed to catch it. I'd given it to Tina, my cousin, and it ran out of her hand and dropped to the ground. I was still kneeling there and it ran up my trouser leg. I had to drop my trousers in public and she was getting it out of the pants leg." "There's only one thing that sounds more implausible than that and it's that you got a blow job!" They all laughed and Justin, relieved, joined in. "So how do you explain the other story you were kissing and hugging a girl, presumably the same one?" "Lauren, Simone and Fran?" Justin named the new witnesses. "Yes." "They came by just after Tyler and Kate. Tina was laughing, first at the lizard and then because I'd been spotted with my pants down. Anyway she was laughing so hard she was leaning against me so I held her. Then she said I was the funniest relative she had and she kissed me. Tha... Tha... That's all folks!" They could also see a cousin kissing him in such circumstances though each reflected silently that none of their own cousins were such that THEY would admit to kissing any of them. Disappointed the stories weren't true, they headed off to class with Justin where they found themselves facing a pop quiz on the material they were supposed to have covered for homework. Justin realised that, with his visitor present, he hadn't had time to read the chapter concerned. But then he remembered the taste of his cum and thought "Or have I somehow?" As he looked at the questions the answers became obvious; not easy, he still had to review the material, but at least the situation wasn't hopeless. They changed classes and Justin was now able to confront his accusers briefly. The humour of the situation helped convince some of the listeners who, like his friends, wavered between not wanting to believe Justin could get there first and wanting to because it implied hope for all of them in the near future. Most knew that they would confess if accused just for the status Justin had quickly attained and was likely to lose just as quickly. Justin realised it was well after the time he could expect Tina's return and wondered if she was having difficulties or had considered school too much of a risk. Regardless he continued to keep his bag handy. When one teacher queried it as he went into class he quietly mentioned an upset stomach that may require his urgent departure and a change of clothes. He thought he had handled the embarrassment of his "disclosure" with some skill, though he was told he should have stayed home if he was that sick. "I think I'm over it - I just wanted to be sure." At the mid-morning break he went to the toilet and was just washing his hands when he felt two arms surround him. "Hey!", he urgently whispered as he felt her bare breasts push into his back. He looked into the mirror and saw Tina's smile. She had noticed what he had only seen. With the departure of another student as Justin had been closing his zipper the room was unoccupied by anyone else. "I just wanted to say hello and to thank you for last night, though you know that. It's fantastic! We can do our homework in half the time now you can remember my experiences - that gives us more time for learning other things." Her arms squeezed tighter. Justin turned inside the circle she made and wondered whether she should be getting dressed. He gave her a kiss and indicated the bag at his feet. "I don't want to stay long. I could have been with you when you first explained about the lizard. That might have ruined your story a little. I want to keep trying so you might see me at lunch time - find somewhere safe." Justin's arms were suddenly empty even as the pressure of her lips on his was still registering in his brain. He didn't know if he wanted her to stop doing that or not. "Just don't forget YOU might not have been the person standing naked in the boys' toilet", he scolded weakly. He endured the next lesson with impatience and then joined his friends briefly for lunch. He begged off going out onto the oval for their usual lunchtime sport. "I've got to check some things in the Library." He needed time to be alone. The toilets weren't a good choice - even if Tina was assumed to be a boy it would be hard to explain what two of them were doing in a cubicle together. THAT rumour would be a lot harder to counter than the blowjob story. He could duck into a classroom but he wasn't supposed to be there during breaks - and once again being found naked could be hard to explain. It was alright for Tina, she could at least disappear. He decided on one of the private study rooms in the library. The doors couldn't be locked and they had windows through which the librarian could check for unruly behaviour but if he was in there alone and he was apparently, or even actually, working there would be no reason for him to be disturbed. If Tina did arrive she should be able to dress out of anyone's view. He had barely settled with his books when she popped in beside him. "Here", he said passing over the bag of clothes. "Not yet." She gave him a kiss and disappeared again. One of the librarians had noticed a flash of bare flesh through the window and moved for a clearer view. When she couldn't see anything further she opened the door, "Everything alright in here?" "Yes" answered Justin politely before returning to the text book. Dismissing her impressions as an aberration of her sight she apologised for disturbing him and returned to her desk. Justin had only read through a couple of pages before Tina reappeared and this time she did quickly clothe herself. "Fantastic. You've got it down to four minutes." "I think I can do better but I don't know if I will ever be able to merge and then pop straight out again." She settled at the desk and began to make notes from another text. "I'll have to double up on pens and notebooks." "I could go and buy them while you're in class", offered Tina. "it's a pity your money doesn't double as well." He tore a couple of pages out of the notebook. "That's all I need for now and I've got another pen. Do you want to go out shopping?" "I'd like to get something more feminine to wear but I think you should come with me. If I work on our homework while you're in class we should have time after school." They both knew Justin's bank account held sufficient to get a couple of outfits without damaging the balance too much. "So long as you don't get bored." "If I do I'll leave our notes somewhere safe and join you." "If you do you'll leave your clothes lying on the floor." "I didn't think of that. Maybe I should put all your things in your locker and then join you. Do you think I would be noticed in the corridor?" Justin matched her grin. "Let's concentrate on this work for now." With an occasional admiring glance at each other that would have had a psychiatrist raving about narcissistic tendencies they got on with their work. ----- During the last lesson of the day a message was delivered to the teacher and as he dismissed them he called Justin over to his desk. "The message was from your Doctor. She asks if you would call in sometime after school. I hope it's not serious." "No sir. Thank you." Justin went out into the yard and paused to let the other students drift away. He knew where he would go if he wanted a discrete meeting and figured Tina would go to the same spot. Within a couple of minutes he was proven right. Since they both realised that they could be observed neither greeted the other with a hug or a kiss and they walked off without contact; it was consistent with a typical schoolyard romance between teens conscious of peer standards. Tina handed over her notes and Justin put them away in his backpack. "You should only have to type them up if I don't get a chance later." "Thanks. I hope I can read your handwriting." "You should be able to - it's every bit as bad as yours. I think you'll find it identical in fact." It seemed strange to share out the work but, if he now accumulated her experiences as she did his, it wasn't really cheating; and what wasn't strange about their relationship anyway? They headed to the Mall hoping to get their shopping done as discretely as possible. Tina had had to nod to a few students as they headed off but fortunately they had been in as much hurry as she had been able to convincingly suggest was her situation too, and that had sufficed. From the decreased attention either drew it appeared Justin's notoriety was not even a one day wonder. Timing their visit to the shopping mall required a balancing of options. One smaller group tended to go there straight from school and hang out until they could get home just before their parents; another, usually living closer with a resident parent, dropped off their school things and then headed out for a while with parental approval. The latter group tended to remain longer. It would be touch and go which of Justin's acquaintances would be around to run into. Justin hit the money machines for four hundred. He had no expectation of needing that much but it wouldn't hurt to have extra on hand just in case they needed a cab or something for an emergency. He also had no experience of the cost of female clothing. "What first?" Waiting while his mother tried on a dress or shoes didn't count as "shopping with a girl"; that had tended to be a boredom shared with his father. It was no better for Tina. "We either need to look more alike or substantially different, or even better - both. I think I would be better off with a shorter haircut like yours and then a wig; long and a different colour to change my appearance quickly." "Sound good." He began to head towards a hairdresser but Tina drew him away. "I think a barber would be better while I'm in these clothes. If he thinks I'm your brother he won't quibble about a similar cut but a hairdresser might fuss over why your sister wants to look more like you." "Lead on, oh wise one." Justin grinned at her impeccable logic. The haircut was not only quick, it was cheap and Tina convinced Justin he should have his cut first so people would notice that first and possibly miss a couple of other differences subtly filling her sweater. With cooler necks and ears they headed out for stage two in Tina's make over. "I can't very well buy a dress if I don't have the underwear to go with it, so a lingerie shop next I think." Justin wasn't quite sure whether he should head off elsewhere for a while but Tina needed feedback on their first foray through the doors of what had until then only featured in a boy's fantasies. Tina led him towards the knickers first but the sizes didn't match Justin's underwear. She looked a little lost. "Can I help you boys?" The assistant had come upon them without their knowledge. "Yes", said Tina, "but I'm not a boy." "Oh!" The assistant looked back and forth but couldn't see any real difference. Either teenager could be a delicate featured male or a not unattractive female; neither were dressed in a manner to suggest femininity. "I'm sorry. What do you need?" "I wanted some knickers but I'm not familiar with the sizes. I normally wear 80 cm boxers." "Okay, you should find any with this green tag will fit you." "Thank you. I'll look through them. I also need a bra." "Any particular style?" "I don't know. I've never worn one." The assistant thought she had heard it all and double checked Tina's chest in case it was a boy trying to play some sort of practical joke. It didn't look like socks stuffed in there so she wondered instead, "Where has she come from?" It showed on her face. "We've been living out in the country and Dad didn't like coming into town much. He's gone now and we're living with our uncle." Tina was proud of Justin's ability to craft a story so quickly, one she hoped would be convincing. "Alright. Well if you would like to step into the change room and remove your top I'll just check your size." She turned to Justin, "And if you would like to wait here we'll just be a minute." She had heard of Mountain Men holed up in virtual fortresses and supposed the teenagers' story was something similar. She pitied them if that was the case while wondering how much she could convince a naive girl to purchase. It turned out Tina WAS naive in some respects and worldly wise in others. She was willing to be coaxed into buying a teddy and a light dressing gown as well as the more practical bra and panties but consulted with Justin on style and colour (a bit of a waste of time since his tastes coincided with hers and he certainly had no more experience then her). She was also concerned about price. She doubted she really needed a spare bra at this stage though Justin suggested it would be easier than buying another later. Neither knew how quickly she would outgrow it - something else to ask Dr Sue they supposed - and decided to stick to one. She did need several pairs of knickers though, especially if she was going to be around more often, and they delighted in choosing a range of sexy styles rather than some more practical brands. Tina swapped her underwear and donned her new push-up bra which gave her a figure even the sweater could no longer disguise. They thanked the lady for her help and left the store as the sales assistant was gleefully considering the extras she had managed to sell. "Now I have a figure I think I need some clothes to show it off." They had been fortunate so far in avoiding anyone they knew and hurried into the teen fashion section of a department store. This was likely to be safer, and not inconsequentially cheaper, than the trendier boutiques elsewhere in the mall. Tina and Justin worked their way through the racks of clothes, occasionally selecting an outfit that looked reasonable. They ended up with half a dozen and Tina had to leave some at the Change Room counter as she tried on the others. Justin waited outside and looked on from the entrance as she paraded each one in turn. There was a nice top with denim jacket and skirt, a longer skirt with a white polo-necked top with long sleeves, a halter neck top that left her midriff bare that could be combined with jeans or either skirt, and a fancier party dress which displayed her new cleavage to advantage. She swapped over the outfits and returned to try on the remainder. So far the outfits had zips and a single button but now she had a light blouse which buttoned up the front. It was light enough to see her bra through the fabric and she decided to give Justin a thrill. Getting her bra off required some effort with the unfamiliar clasp and then, when she donned the blouse, she encountered another unexpected problem. Her fingers were "programmed" to do buttons up differently. Tina had only experienced Justin doing up buttons on HIS shirts and HERS were on the other side. It took longer than she had expected but she finally managed and tucked the blouse into the waistband of the skirt she had kept on. Justin did a double take and then quickly looked around. Tina's darker nipples could be clearly seen, as could the slight round curves of her now identified 34A breasts. He made a circle of thumb and finger to show she looked A-OK and then waved her back. The final outfit was a bikini and that too got his seal of approval. Tina went back to change into Justin's clothes again; she couldn't very well wear the new ones until she had paid for them. Justin knew she would be a few minutes and drifted over to the CD and DVD displays to browse while he waited. He had only just stepped away from the entrance when Katie and Tyler walked in together to try on their own selection of outfits. Tina finished dressing and pulled back the curtain of her cubical only to hear a little squeal of delight from one of the other cubicles. The curtains didn't fit very well and she could see the reflection of two semi-naked girls in the mirror. "I know those two", she thought. "Well, well! Who would have guessed." "Excuse me. Can you help me please?" She pulled back the curtain and looked at Tyler's breast in Katie's mouth. "Oh sorry!" She stayed staring as both girls turned first to look in puzzled shock and then in positive horror. "Justin?" Both girls asked the same question but Tyler's could at least be understood - she wasn't talking with her mouth full. Tina just smiled and pulled the curtain closed then took her clothes with her to find Justin. "Let's go." Her story could keep, possibly she would let him find out when they were together again as a surprise. Justin's money diminished rapidly though he was happy with the results. Tina told him about the trouble with the buttons and took the bag with the denim skirt and jacket to get changed; she decided the normal top would be better than the see-through one for now. "Don't head into the Men's Room by mistake", warned Justin as he found a seat to wait for her. She had only been gone for a minute when Katie and Tyler sat down on either side. "It won't do you any good to say anything you know", said Katie. "Yeah, people will just think it's a payback for our story about seeing you with your pants down", added Tyler. "What ARE you on about?" "What you saw was nothing so you may as well keep quiet." "And what the fuck were you doing in there anyway?" "Right!" "I'm sorry. I don't understand. Yesterday morning was just a misunderstanding that seems to have blown over. What *IS* your problem?" "Our problem, as you put it, is that we don't need any stories being spread about us." "What sort of stories?" "You know very well. Just because you saw us ... well ... doesn't mean we're ... well ..." "This isn't going anywhere fast", thought Justin. "Sorry. Lost again. Can we start from the beginning?" "Okay wise guy. When you were skulking around the ladies' change rooms you decided to perve on us and opened our curtain. Now anything you say you will be your word against ours but we all know mud can stick. We won't say anything about you being there and you keep quiet about us - deal?" "As far as I'm concerned my lips are sealed." Justin would just have to ask Tina what it was all about. He certainly wasn't making any promises about HER lips. "See they are!" The girls left just before an attractive female version of Justin came up to him. "You look gorgeous." It was true, well almost true. He was biased but the words did raise Tina's spirits. "Wig time. Blonde, brunette or redhead?" "Let's see what they have got first." "You know, I had a couple of strange visitors while I was gone." "Not Katie and Tyler?" "It's surprising that you should suggest them. Want to tell me what I'm supposed to have seen?" "Later. You'll enjoy it. I know I did." Tina suddenly realised it was true. She must have been subtly influenced by Justin over the years, not completely by any means since she also found his male body fascinating, but the sight of those luscious young tits had her own mouth watering. It was certainly something for them to discuss further. The first hairdresser didn't have anything they found irresistible although there were some that would do if they didn't find anything better. They were getting some strange looks - people weren't used to seeing what were essentially his and hers bookends - and it amused them as they walked through the mall. At the next hairdresser there was a much wider range; better quality and better prices - for the hairdresser. Still it was better to spend the extra money and have something convincing. The pair's mutual hair colour was a mid-brown with some copper highlights, especially by the end of summer when it had been bleached by a few months of sun. They concurred that the black was better than the blonde which would stand out a bit too much, as would the auburn wig that also made Tina look stunning. Tina had entered the shopping centre with short brown hair and left around an hour later with black tresses that had been plaited neatly to hang each side of her face. Now they were more distant relatives to anyone who approached; an obvious resemblance but nothing else. Two further brief stops at the makeup counter added a discrete blush to her cheeks and gloss to her lips that aided her camouflage and finally a couple of pairs of shoes to match the outfits; Justin's spare sneakers did tend to spoil the effect. They had entered with an almost empty backpack, now it contained Justin's spare clothes and the dummy head for storing the wig while they had another five shopping bags between them. It was easier to make the slight diversion home to drop off the bags rather than to carry them to the Doctor's Surgery. Getting past their mother was only a minor problem. Justin manoeuvred her away from his room, explaining why he had felt it necessary to have his hair cut while Tina slipped her purchases into his wardrobe and then ducked into the kitchen for a quick drink. "No Mum, I didn't hear anything. Why?" Tina escaped out the back door leaving a wet glass on the sink. Justin's warning had given her enough time to avoid a confrontation they weren't yet ready for. She resisted the temptation to turn up at the front door in her new persona and ask if "Justin can come out to play". --- It was a different pair who now sat in the waiting room and the receptionist humorously wondered whether the boy was procuring young girls for some weird experiment. She laughed to herself at her image of Dr Sue Bryant as some sort of Dr Frankenstein. Now Frankenfurter she could understand. They went in together and once again the receptionist had been told to ignore the account. "We'll go broke if she keeps this up." "Good afternoon. Thank you for coming; I was half afraid I had dreamed it all. You certainly look different Tina; very nice." "Thank you. Out first shopping expedition for girl things was quite an experience." "I can imagine. You two gave me a lot to think about since Saturday. I hope you had a better weekend than me since I got very little sleep." "Things have worked out well so far", said Justin. "I have more control now over when I can arrive and haven't had to leave in a lot of circumstances that would have caused me stress before." "Perhaps you can tell me a bit about what it feels like for you both and how you control your comings and goings so I can try to get a better picture of your quite remarkable abilities." The pair looked cheekily at each other. They didn't think the Doctor wanted to know about the comings they were both thinking of and they behaved themselves as they seriously described their situation and answered her questions for over an hour. Then it was their turns. "I have a problem that you might be able to help me with. When I'm asleep I have been having some strange dreams and they make me come." Dr Sue looked surprised. Wet dreams were nothing special though she had never had a patient who was so willing to admit they had occurred and never one who would consider mentioning the topic if his mother was present, let alone a teenage girl. Tina saw the glance in her direction. "You must remember I've shared the experiences. I remember the dreams and the feelings we had." It was something else to jot down on the special note pad that avoided all names. Instead she used the standard symbols for male, female and hermaphrodite and had shown it to them both so they could be confident their identities were not disclosed, at least there. Justin continued. "Sometimes Tina appears just as it happens or she might be sleeping next to me or I could be alone. I'm worried that the sperm could get into my or her vagina and we could get pregnant. Is that possible?" "Some animals or plants that have male or female parts can't self-fertilise but I really don't know. We would have to do some tests trying to fuse sperm and egg in the lab but even that might not be conclusive. And it may only apply when you are sharing the one body - your bodies might behave differently when Tina has emerged. I think you should assume you are just as fertile as any other teenagers." "Is there anything we can do to keep safe?" "I could put Tina on the pill but I don't know how that would affect you Justin. Plus if you are merging and emerging it may upset the dosage required - you could be inadequately covered. Let's see then. From what you say anything she wears is left behind but things she has eaten or drunk are passed to you. Have there been any situations where Tina has had something in her vagina, a tampon perhaps, or food in her mouth when she has disappeared?" They thought for a second then shook their heads. "We can try though." "What can we use?" "Oh I wasn't planning an experiment right now." "It shouldn't take long. Are you game Justin?" "Sure." Sue thought and decided some teething gel should be the easiest. She squeezed a good size glob onto Tina's tongue and apologised at the girl's reaction to the taste. "Sorry. Try not to swallow." Sue had barely finished speaking when the girl disappeared. As her clothes fell to the chair she turned to Justin who was busy pulling his own face. He extended his tongue to display the gel. Sue passed him a tissue to wipe it off before it numbed it too much. She noticed at the same time that his cheeks now bore the signs of Tina's makeup. The physical implications of what she had seen were incredible. This was essentially the transfer of matter from one spot to another. Her emotions warred between wanting to protect her young friend, well friends, and wishing the phenomenon could be investigated properly. Justin simply wondered what would happen if he was getting a blowjob from her at the time. "Can you hear Tina?" "No. But I can remember what mischief she got up to earlier." The images of Tyler and Katie in the change room brought an uncomfortable stiffness in his groin. "How long before Tina can re-join us?" "It could be any time." "And she is aware of our conversation?" "Yes but not like she was eavesdropping. *WE* are listening together, as one. She is able to feel her way out of our body but, although I have her memory of her remembering it, I don't have first-hand experience of what she does." "Well if you are aware Tina, please don't come back until we have set up another little test. Justin, can you please put some of this gel inside your vagina. It's just a harmless lubricant but it should serve as a safe test." Justin squeezed the applicator directly into the entrance and felt the cool gel ooze up inside him. He put the tube down and was bending to pull up his pants when Tina popped into existence behind him. Sue watched her reach between her legs to reveal a clear smear on her fingers. "I could have been back sooner but you told me to wait." Her turn around time was now in the order of a minute or two. Sue passed her a tissue as well and she cleaned herself up. "You had to use so much?" she berated her other half. "Sorry." Sue looked back and forth between the clothed boy and the still naked girl. "You realise you've shared your make up?" Justin and Tina looked at each other and Tina suddenly grinned. "It suits you." Justin took another tissue and wiped his cheeks and mouth. "If I'm going to wear Tina's lipstick I can think of a much nicer way of transferring it from her lips to mine." He couldn't say that in front of the doctor! He worried that this could be a problem if Tina had to disappear when in playing a fully feminine role; not that he didn't find her feminine when she was in his shorts and sweater. Should he add wet wipes to his back pack? It was getting fuller by the minute. "What I am going to suggest is a diaphragm. If you were sexually active I would recommend a spermicidal cream as well but that should be adequate for casual protection. If Tina comes and goes you should be safe enough and you only need to use it when you go to bed or when you think there might be some risk of semen being present." She didn't really want to talk about him masturbating or even just creaming his jeans, a common problem for easily stimulated lads, but couldn't see any way of avoiding it under the current unusual circumstances. "Tina would you mind lying down on the examination table and I'll work out what size diaphragm you need." As she did Sue also addressed Justin. "I am going to assume that you currently masturbate. I'm sorry if this conversation causes any embarrassment but it IS a normal part of life and there are some consequences." She went on to talk about passing semen from fingers or underwear to his vagina. It wasn't the sort of conversation one had with a patient while another patient was present but she realised that these two would share both the discussion and the pelvic examination when they next merged anyway. "You shouldn't let masturbation rule your life but you may find it useful in lessening the incidence of your nocturnal emissions - don't go overboard though." She got a diaphragm from her store room and showed Tina how to fit it and to see if it was seated correctly. A reasonably effective contraceptive when used correctly, it unfortunately required more forethought than a simply donned condom. For Justin condoms wouldn't help. He couldn't wake up in the middle of a wet dream to put one on could he. "What cream were you talking about before?" Sue hesitated. The couple before her weren't supposed to be sexually active at their age and they hadn't suggested that they were. Tina hadn't really had time to find a boyfriend - and the complications that might cause for Justin when it finally did happen were something for her to talk through with them at a later stage. How would he treat memories of kissing, petting or more with another boy? Tina might also have problems with Justin's eventual contact with a girlfriend. Sue didn't think about mutual masturbation or worse - her own social conditioning didn't allow her to consider incest in other than a seriously disturbed relationship, which certainly wasn't the case here regardless of how unusual it was. It wouldn't hurt for Tina to have the cream - better to have too much protection than not enough - and she wouldn't be the first young girl to need contraceptive assistance before legally being entitled to use the information. Sue much preferred that option to providing antenatal or postnatal assistance. "Take this sample. If you need more you can get it from any pharmacist though some might refuse due to your age." She wrote out an address and gave it to Tina who was getting dressed again. "Try this one, she's understanding of teenagers' problems though your situation might stress her out if she knew." They all agreed that they had covered enough to give them all something to think about and decided to schedule regular meetings for a while. Justin and Tina thanked Sue and both gave her a hug before leaving through the empty waiting room. On the way home Tina paid Justin out, "So you liked looking at Tyler and Katie then? Had a little tightness in the crotch area?" Justin could give as good as he got though. "Got a little wet yourself, didn't you?" "Touche." "They made a nice pair though." Justin didn't have to reassure Tina. If she knew that the image had stimulated him she also knew that his thoughts had quickly turned back to her. They both had viewed the other girls with interest but were still primarily involved with each other and weren't threatened by the interest either took in other people - there could be no betrayal when every inclination would be shared. "Tyler's or Katie's?" Tina joked. Justin ignored her. "It certainly was an eye opener. I bet they nearly pissed themselves when you opened the curtain. Especially when they thought it was me." "I wonder how far they are willing to go to keep their secret?" "Blackmail? You're wicked." "You should know." Tina put her arm around him as they walked. They strolled discussing their time with the doctor. She had opened their eyes to a number of matters and they would have some experiments of their own to conduct - some of which they couldn't see Dr Sue approving. Rather than taking Tina's clothes past his mother it was easier for Justin to run interference again as his father wasn't home yet. He joined Tina in his room and got a belated kiss. With diaphragm and cream they could, if they wished, take their education even further. Tina's clothes were tidily hung inside his wardrobe or under them in his drawers. The wig was a bigger problem; they hadn't considered the head-sized stand. Shoes were simply slipped out of the way under the bed but it had to be hidden in a box in the bottom of the wardrobe, the former contents left loose for now. Tina helped with the remainder of their homework until it was time to eat. She was going to disappear during a kiss again since it was easier for Justin to eat for both of them but Justin asked her to strip down to her underwear first. "You just want me to put my clothes away so you don't have to", she teased. "If that was all I'd ask you to strip everything off. You look gorgeous naked but I just want to see you decked out in your new purchases. I didn't get a chance earlier; that saleswoman was a real spoilsport." He had also avoided staring at his sister in front of the doctor. Tina hung her outfit up with the others and did a little pirouette in push-up bra and lacy knickers that curved up to thin straps at the sides of her hips. Justin was amazed at the difference a few scraps of material made. And if Tina looked this good with almost a crew-cut how would she look with the wig on as well? "I won't tell you how you look. You'll find out in a second anyway. See you later love. He leaned forward to kiss her and caught the bra before it hit the floor. ----- Since he ate for both of them it wasn't unreasonable that he bathed for both as well. Anticipating further pleasures he hurried through, to be unnecessarily assisted drying himself when all he really had were the little pockets of dampness either side of his balls. "Well there was no point me having to get dry too was there?" "I would have towelled you dry." "If I'd had you rubbing me down I would have been wetter at the end than when you'd started. Anyway I need to see how to fit the diaphragm." Justin had brought it with him expecting to have to insert it himself and Tina took it out of the flat box that kept it safe from punctures. Naturally curious about the object that should allow them to safely continue their pursuit of knowledge and pleasure (not necessarily in that order), they both examined it closely, checking out its feel and the springy nature of its perimeter. Tina put one foot up on the side of the bath and spread her lips with her fingers. "See how it goes then." "Don't you want some of the cream first?" "I think I need a 'dry run' to see if its uncomfortable or loose before we should trust it. You'll just have to wait a little longer." Considering the alternative if something SHOULD happen to go awry, Justin preferred to be patient. He just wished he could try a little fucking while he was waiting though. He tried to insert it as their doctor had demonstrated but there was too much resistance. Tina's pussy was damp, but it was the dampness from Justin's recent bath; a dampness that acted more like glue than oil. Justin put the contraceptive back behind him and sat on the cool tiles so he was positioned between his sister's legs. He would see about providing some better lubrication. Tina smelt fresh. She should have; Justin was meticulous about washing. He had also rinsed well and as his tongue made a sweeping pass there was no hint of soap to make the contact less than pleasant. Tina leaned into his mouth, her hands drawing his head firmly against her while also using it to steady herself. As he continued and her legs felt shivery, that became more and more important. What, for Justin, had started as a task involving mainly contact between lips and tongue on one side and skin on the other quite quickly altered to having the youth trying to cope with a veritable deluge that flowed directly from Tina's vaginal opening into Justin's throat, missing the insides of his cheeks entirely. Justin gulped down the juices his tongue tickled forth. They slid, thick and tasty, down the open tube he made with his curled tongue until he finally had to stop. At least there was no problem with the fitting now. Justin carefully pushed it all the way to the back of Tina's vagina with his thumb finally seating it in place. "How does that feel?" Tina smiled and all of a sudden he knew. In compensation he also had no doubts about how much she had enjoyed being eaten. Justin took his belongings and clothes and turned out the light before heading across the corridor to his bedroom. The diaphragm DID have a funny feel. It wasn't probably in the most sensitive of places but it seemed to be gently pushing the walls apart and it WAS noticeable. It was just one more experience that put him further from his mates and closer to the girls he knew. Not THAT close he suspected; it was unlikely that many would use a diaphragm in preference to the pill if they were thinking of contraceptives. Still he could pretty well guarantee that NONE of the boys he knew would be fitted with one. Tina returned and sat on the bed behind him as he put his things away. Justin turned and looked at the sight of the attractive young woman who now shared his life in so many more ways than before; a woman who shared his likes and dislikes, his very feelings and most definitely his lusts. Was it any wonder they also shared their love for each other? If you don't feel good enough about yourself there isn't really any way you CAN love another properly. But when the other is essentially yourself it becomes almost impossible NOT to love them. Tina raised her loving arms, dug her fingers into Justin's butt and pulled him over to stand directly in front of her. He had so nicely eaten her, it was only fair that she return the favour. Justin's prick stood out from his body and it was a simple matter for Tina to capture the end and let it slide into her mouth. With her hands stopping him getting too boisterous, she let him slowly rock back and forth, gently fucking her mouth as his hands rested on the back of her head. This, like his earlier cunnalingus, was good for both of them. It also would not last long enough for either of them. Tina ended Justin's pleasure, at least temporarily; gave the still twitching end of his prick a final kiss and stood to give his mouth a more substantial one. They pressed their naked bodies against one another; complementary book ends. Each teen's right breast pressed against the other, feminine to masculine, while their heads turned slightly maintaining the kiss. Each held the other's head to keep their lips pressed tightly together. They both spread their feet apart, giving access to the other's right hand. A mutual manipulation of the other's genitals continued what their tongues had started. Justin paused, knowing things were likely to get messy otherwise, and reached into a drawer behind him. He removed a handkerchief without interrupting the kissing and hung it over the base of his erection where it would be handy when required. His fingers sought out Tina's vagina, once again collecting a slippery coating which eased their passage all around the area. Feeling her release coming, Tina covered the head of Justin's prick with a couple of layers of cloth and stepped up her activities so that his release would coincide as much as possible with her own. Near enough WAS good enough this time, more than just good enough in fact. She beat Justin to an orgasm - a phrase that could be taken two ways so ... Tina reached her own orgasm before the rhythmic stroking of her hand brought his release as well. However Justin's passed relatively quickly; surges changing to seepage while Tina was still trying to stay standing as Justin REFUSED! to break contact with her writhing body. He kept her agitated until his own body started relaxing and only then did his touch change from an active rubbing to a passive holding. As Tina gasped for breath, her knees trembling with exertion, Justin left her pussy to take hold of the small square of cloth before the towel rail it was draped over collapsed. He squeezed the remaining semen from the softening shaft and repeatedly wiped the end while maintaining an arm around Tina's back. There was no disappointment they hadn't tried out the diaphragm fully. If fucking was going to be better than this, neither of them felt they would be able to stand it. They were curious, certainly, but they didn't feel they were particularly missing anything by not fucking yet. In the two brief weeks of combined sexual exploration they had made unbelievable progress but they had still a lot to learn and the joys and difficulties of intercourse were just additional steps on their path of hedonistic pleasure. They loved, they lusted, they learned, they lived. And, for now, they rested. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Doppelganger Part: Chapter 11 of 31 Summary: Justin was born with a little extra - a set of female sex organs - but that was just the beginning. Keywords: mffff, oral, exhib, nosex, rom Language: English Copyright: 2005 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* INTRODUCTION Justin Rogers was born around 16 years ago with something special - a complete functional set of female sex organs. He has since found they don't really belong to him but to his twin sister Tina who spent much of her early life sharing his body. Since she is able to emerge from and rejoin him, they share their memories, their experiences, and their sexual desires. ********************************************************* WEEK 12 Saturday =============== Because it was easier to move their props on and leave them there until the audience had departed, their magic act was the last on the Stage Manager's schedule. The advantage of this was they didn't have long to wait after they finished to find out how well they did. The disadvantage was that they had longer for the butterflies to take hold. It gave Leslie a chance to stir Justin up. "Relax or you'll get your hand signals wrong and Tina will end up naked again." Tyler and Katie had been told only that the twins (or "cousins" as they were believed to be by almost everyone) thought Leslie would "eventually" be coaxed into joining them and that their secrets were as safe as could be for now. They accepted Leslie's inclusion in the performance had been necessary to allay her suspicions and so didn't mind sharing the spotlight, especially since Leslie wouldn't be in it and wasn't in line for a share of the profits. It hadn't been mentioned when she agreed and Tina and Justin thought they could find some way to compensate her later. Justin and Tina also wanted their next "meeting" with Tyler and Katie to be a surprise - for them and for Leslie. If they won they figured they could celebrate that very evening and if they didn't, well maybe they could help console each other. Some of the other acts were quite good; many were mediocre. There was even another magician and he did have a small live rabbit in his top hat plus innumerable scarves and a wand that turned into a bouquet. Quite skilfully performed for a twelve year old but nothing visually spectacular. The weren't worried by him unless they faced a vote to "encourage youth" which unfortunately would mean people younger than themselves, but they didn't know how they would be rated against some of the singers and musicians. Each act had a maximum of seven minutes and the Stage Manager allowed up to three minutes between acts. With twenty acts, the inevitable delays and a short interval, they were watching the monitor in what was laughingly called the "green room" with up to thirty odd people for around two and a half hours. It was better after interval, the din quietened with the numbers thinned by those performers who preferred to watch the rest of the show from the auditorium. They were all especially happy to have lost one particular loudmouth who had taken the role of unofficial judge until his own turn had come - the laughter that greeted him on his return had encouraged him to be one of the first to leave. Justin and his father Mal had been down first thing that morning to put a simple pulley in place, with a rope tied back ready to hold the curtain when it was needed. When it was time to hook things up Justin was relieved to find no-one had meddled with it in the meantime. He pulled up the curtain with Tina inside while the other three girls brought the boxes and other gear onto the stage. The Stage Manager counted them down as they returned to the wings and they heard the announcer's call "Our final act - presenting Justin the Magnificent" followed by initial strains of Scheherazade. It seemed to be a little unfair that he got all the credit when Tina really did all the work. The curtains parted and Tyler and Katie started their routine to the polite applause from an audience growing tired and looking forward to the final act, regardless of who it was. For some reason they had vetoed Justin's suggestion that they do the dance of the seven veils, well two - there was a time limit. He had been pleased when they suggested they could organise a private viewing though. He didn't know about the audience but he found their warm up highly erotic and only hoped he wouldn't have to perform with a boner clearly displayed; still if it were that good the audience wouldn't be watching him. He heard his cue and bounced out on to the stage with a "salaam" flourish and clapped his hands. Katie and Tyler immediately came and knelt beside him facing the audience so their cleavage was on display to the judges (what Katie missed out on Tyler made up for). They handed him two streamers, one bright yellow and the other a fluorescent pink. "Can I ask for the assistance of someone in the front row please." He looked at an eager girl about 10 years old and she jumped up. "Would you please ask two of the judges to mark these streamers in some way so they can identify them later." He handed her the streamers and two felt markers. While she did that his lovely assistants opened the front and back sides of the boxes and he demonstrated to the audience that they were perfectly empty. The streamers had been fastened around a metal circle from a key ring and Justin got the girl to bring them up on stage and stretch to hang each ring by a hook in the top of the box. The girls then sealed the backs of the boxes before weaving across the stage to close the front of the other girl's box. Justin told the audience that he was able to transpose the contents of the two boxes and he too moved back and forth between them making appropriate gestures before each box. It would have looked better with a bit of smoke or flashes but Justin had watched a few David Copperfield tapes and had copied some of the moves. In the end he had gotten an old silver teapot and painted it an antique bronze. As Aladdin's lamp it wasn't the best prop but it was something to cue the audience with. Holding it high over his head he rubbed it as he shouted "Profigliano" and the two girls allowed the front and backs to drop to the floor with a bang. Presentation might not earn them as many marks as they could have earned but the trick was definitely a winner. The girl collected the streamers and held them up high as instructed then returned them to the judges who verified their authenticity. Two of their precious seven minutes had passed; Justin picked up the pace. "And now I would like to finish with our most dangerous act - The Divided Maiden. A wondrous beauty from the harem will be divided and restored before your very eyes. He clapped again and the curtain dropped. Tina was revealed standing with her arms crossed over her chest; she lifted them above her as Leslie turned the music louder and then brought them down in a prayerful pose, palms together, as she stepped over the curtain. As far as the assistants and the stage hands were aware she had been there all the time. She swayed as Katie had shown her as she walked step-pause-step-pause until she reached the centre-front of the stage. Katie came over with a purple box and Justin showed the audience that it was empty - four sides and a base - then he put it on the floor and Tina delicately stepped into it; her harem costume looked delicious. Quickly - for time was still going - Justin showed one after another of the boxes were hollow before stacking them up until Tina was hidden by six colours forming a rainbow sequence. The girls now handed him the first plywood lids and he tapped them together before pushing them into place top and bottom of each gap. Even the girls didn't know quite what was going on as they had rehearsed without Tina's involvement. The twins couldn't give them too many chances to see; there was no way the act could be a conventional smoke, mirrors and hidden doors trick. The audience couldn't understand how the girl could be squeezed into a smaller and smaller space - she must have left the boxes before the lids were put in place - and there was an unspoken consensus that they were performing the trick skilfully. Now each section had been divided, the stack was disassembled and inverted - red was on the bottom then orange, yellow, green, blue and finally an inverted purple. Justin had to chide the girls for temporarily putting green and yellow the wrong way around. He quickly pulled out the slides, letting them fall to the stage. He circled the colourful tower and then retrieved the magic lamp from across the stage. He walked from one side to the other, polishing it furiously while he gave Tina the time she needed to get dressed again, then he lifted it high and shouted "Profigliano" again. Katie took the lamp and Tyler the first box as Justin removed it from the pile. Tina was not to be seen and the audience wondered if something had gone wrong. He removed the second and she was still missing but as he lifted the third she stood with it, apparently to materialise as her face remained hidden until he lifted the box over her head. The fourth and fifth quickly followed and he held her hand as she stepped out of the last box to line up with Katie by her side and Tyler by Justin's for a bow. "Thank you ladies and gentlemen". A second bow and they left the stage to thunderous applause. The Stage Manager congratulated them. "I've worked with a few touring magicians and usually its only the audience who can't see what's going on but I've got no idea how you did that. It was marvellous. Going to let on?" "If it's that good I'd be cutting my own throat giving it away wouldn't I?" The Stage Manager grinned, not offended at being kept in the dark. It was only proper if the young man intended to become a professional magician. "You show good business sense. Good luck for today and for the future." He held Justin aside for a second, "and good luck with your harem too Sinbad, they look good enough to eat." "Thanks." He joined the others for the verdict. There were five prizes and they had to stand chewing their nails as they waited, wondering if their names would even be called. Fifth, fourth and third places went to people or groups they couldn't fault. "And our runner up with a prize of $400 is ... 'Justin the Magnificent' and his magnificent harem." The four of them dragged Leslie out on stage with them and they took their bows to acknowledge the applause and received a certificate and a cheque. Another bow and they moved to the back of the stage to stand next to the other winners as they were lined up to hear the first place announced. It was a buxom young woman who had sung while playing a small harp and Justin and Tina were quite happy to have been beaten by someone with such a beautiful voice and an amazing talent. They joined in the applause and went to collect their props. The Stage Manager had moved the props to the back of the stage while the curtains were briefly closed before the announcements and came over to speak to the group. "I took the liberty to look at your props and you have gotten me well and truly stumped young man." He went off shaking his head. The twins' parents arrived while they were packing up and Justin helped his father to take the boxes out to the trailer. "You'll have to tell me how you did that one day son. I didn't see a hair of Tina's head while you were doing it. If you had worked on making things happen with a bit more theatrics you might have ended up with first prize. Still you all did well and $400 isn't anything to be sneezed at." "You're right. It was fun even if we didn't win anything." "And you've got a couple of young ladies hanging around, in their PJs at that, waiting for you to say the word." "Yeah but I had to wear the same outfit, didn't I? Anyway, I think they're more Tina's friends. She's the one having the sleep over, though probably not in the same pyjamas." "From what I've heard about teenage girls, sleep might be the last thing any of us get tonight." Justin wasn't sure if that would be a good or a bad thing for him. The other girls' parents had turned up when they got back and Justin had to accept another lot of congratulations as they all stood at the front of the auditorium. "I just have to provide some distraction with the others, it's Tina who does most of the work." "Well you all worked well together and the costumes looked lovely." "We have to thank Mrs. Waters for that. She helped us all make them." Tina smiled at Tyler's mother. "Seeing the result tonight, I was very happy to do it." Most people had left so the group made their way to the car park. Katie transferred her bag to Tyler's car and Leslie hopped in next to Tina. "See you in a few minutes", Tina called. "Bye Mum, Dad", called out Katie in turn. ----- Justin had to downplay his role in the sleep over. His parents had only just okayed it, since it was for Tina who had managed to make so many good friends when she had only been here for such a short time; the teenagers would have been under far greater supervision had there been any suggestion that Justin was as friendly with the girls as he was. Everyone was delighted and excited by their success and all were a little peeved that neither Justin nor Tina would reveal their secret. Only their mother Bernie could smile quietly as she considered the skilful way her darling children had turned their unusual ability into something useful, and fun. She cornered Tina alone in the kitchen. "I can understand the rainbow boxes, you simply merged while they were broken apart ..." "That was fun - there's not a lot of time or room. I have to find my clothes, usually when I'm standing on them in the dark, and get dressed without knocking the boxes over." "How do you change the streamers though?" "Well there's room for me in the box so I emerge from Justin into box A, put the streamer in my mouth, merge back with Justin so the streamer is now in his mouth, emerge into box B and swap the streamers then take the second streamer back into box A the same way. Then he stood near the curtain and I emerged and got dressed ready for the second trick." "So you spent most of your time flitting around the stage naked?" "It's a good thing that Dad's a good carpenter; or would we have won if I had turned up naked in the rainbow boxes?" "Get back to your guests, saucy." "Okay Mum." Tina gave her a kiss. "Thanks for letting them stay over. Oh and I've been thinking. I wonder if Dad would let me call you Mum and Dad? I'm not as likely to stuff things up then or if you call me your daughter he won't wonder so much about it. What do you think? I'd rather call you Mum even if people think it's pretend." Bernice had tears in her eyes. "I love you dear. I'll think of something to tell him. Now get back to your guests before they start fighting over Justin." "I don't think they're that bad." She grinned but her mother didn't realise it was because none of them had experienced a Justin shortage when they had wanted him - at most there had been a short wait. Justin had offered to give up his room but Tina had convinced her mother that there was more floor space in her room so the girls would have more space to set up the air mattresses to put their sleeping bags on. There was a double and Katie and Tyler knew they could join their sleeping bags together, if they dared. Tina had her bed and Leslie had the single mattress. That left Justin, all alone in a separate room, in a double bed, while all the girls gathered next door. Bernie had expected the girls to crowd in there for at least a little while and Mal wasn't going to interfere in his son's opportunity to get a girlfriend. Neither thought him old enough to get into serious mischief though they quite expected some lesser indiscretions were likely to occur sometime soon - just not tonight. It was inevitable and it was better their kids were "exploring" at home rather than in unsafe situations. The idea that Justin and Tina might have been exploring together or that Tina liked exploring with the girls as well had totally escaped them. --- The first revelation of the evening had to be Leslie's induction into the group with an open admission of her actions and those of Katie and Tyler. Had it just been the three girls, the twins would have been worried the 2:1 dynamics could have resulted in the story being spilled by someone offended or with a broken heart. While secrets are normally best kept when only two know them, the group was likely to work out much more secure unless they ever got into a 4:1 split. Tina again got the ball rolling in Justin's absence. "Do you all trust me?" Three yeses were heard. "Okay then. Katie - please give Tyler a kiss." Without looking to see if she was being obeyed she took Leslie in her arms and began to kiss her, smiling between delicate touches of her lips and then with passion as Leslie smiled back. "So was I right - or was I only partly right." Leslie was still curious about the others. They looked across and the other girls were engaged in their own lip lock. "Perhaps you two should formally welcome Leslie into our little group." They broke apart and Tyler, being closest to the new member, hugged Leslie to her, squashing their tits together as they shared their first kiss. Tina didn't want Katie to feel left out while they were busy so she attacked her mouth gently at the same time. Then it was Katie's turn to welcome Leslie and Tyler's to keep Tina company. Katie's tits didn't have quite the same affect as Tyler's when pressed into another girl so she simply added to the experience by holding Leslie's butt in one hand while they kissed and stroking the other across the front of Leslie's panties. "Shall we get changed for the evening ladies?" There was a chorus of agreement and soon they were all naked. "Er, I think we need something on for a while, although I like how we think alike." It took even less time to don what little sleepwear they had. Tina wore her simple oversize t-shirt. When necessary it was quickly concealing, it was easy to put on AND to take off and one could do an awful lot of things while still wearing it. Tyler had a long button-up pyjama coat but seemed to have accidentally left the bottoms home and the buttons had an unfortunate tendency to come undone under the stress of her large mammaries. Leslie modelled a thin white baby doll outfit - not quite transparent but it certainly allowed patches of colour to appear in the centre of each firm breast and it was only the fact she was a natural blonde that kept her pubes hidden since she too had lost the matching panties along the way. But it was Katie who had come loaded for bear. She had two outfits. The first, similar to Tina's, was shaded pink with a cute teddy bear fairy; it was a camouflage overcoat and underneath was the outfit she planned to use to seduce Justin - an easy enough task since 50% of the work was done by her simply being female. It took the longest time to be donned and yet in most respects it was the least. And it was her mother's! (What did the oldies get up to?) Well it had been her mother's a good 12-18 years ago. Katie knew her mother had worn it, and others like it, before she had been born but wasn't sure if that had stopped after the event. Her mother at that stage certainly had a more developed figure but, while Katie's breasts may not have been quite as big, it didn't matter since the bright red corset ended just below her tits, displaying them shelf-like with only a matching sheer jacket that did little to conceal the pale protuberances. Unable to easily buy her own outfit she had surreptitiously rummaged through her mother's drawers for something. While the colour had drawn her eye (and she hoped that it would draw a certain pair of eyes away from her competition) it was the unusual knickers that made her "borrow" the outfit; before getting them out of the drawer, "crotch-less" had been a foreign concept. Leslie couldn't resist rubbing her hand over Katie's almost bare butt as she lifted her arms to slide the t- shirt covering over her head and the daring outfit. "I wonder who gets to unwrap HIS Christmas present a few months early this year?" Katie turned, looking quite as innocuous as Tina. "At least *I'M* wearing knickers!" "Don't give me that", said Tyler, "I got a good look at them as you put them on - you can feel just as much breeze through them as we can." "Yeah", agreed Katie with a wide grin, "I know." "Lay back on the bed and let us see", asked Tina and the girls crowded around while Katie spread her legs, and then the material, to show them how she could be covered and exposed at the same time. The girls had all been through the bathroom (Leslie sneaking in for a short while with Tina) as they changed out of their costumes so Tina knew Katie's pussy was fresh. "Justin reckons this is the sweetest pussy he's tasted and I have to agree. Would you like to try it Leslie?" If Tina and Justin hadn't performed that very act on her Leslie might have suspected they were just waiting to catch her out. Now she had no qualms and knelt to kiss her friend's quim. The juices were hidden but, once uncovered, were every bit as tasty as Tina had suggested. "Mmm, You do taste wonderful." She only took a long enough break to compliment Katie before continuing to actively devour her. Katie squirmed under the oral attentions of her new lover, though only Tina might consciously think of the other girls with that term. "If this keeps up", thought Katie, "there won't be anyone in my class who WON'T have eaten me by the end of the year." It was a prospect she found exciting rather than disturbing and that was rather more disturbing when she realised. Still she couldn't see it happening without something going wrong and them all being labelled sluts. She didn't feel sluttish; her sexual interactions had all been with the three, now four, good friends and she was legally, if neither technically nor morally, a virgin - a state she DID have plans to change; tonight if she was lucky. It wasn't a case of her being "anyone's", and if Justin was interested enough she didn't mind the idea of being monogamous (provided he felt the same way) - though a small part of her would miss these encounters. Leslie accidentally brushed her tongue over that small part and when Katie responded in an altogether over- exuberant manner Leslie returned to pleasure her again and again. "Looks like they're having fun", Tina addressed Tyler, "You want to lie down next to Katie and let me start your evening off the right way?" "I'd love too but I've got a couple of days still to go." She was disappointed that she might have to forgo some of the evening's pleasures. Tina had found, or rather Justin had found and Tina had subsequently learned once she had taken over most of that side of things, that the whole point of tampons was to STOP blood getting out and that, provided they were changed regularly, they generally did their job very well. The sex manual that they had now replaced in their parents bedroom had covered menstruation and sex and Justin had bravely tested whether what it had told them was the truth. There quite likely were exceptions to Tina's situation but Justin had found he couldn't detect any difference except for that pesky string. "You changed when you had your shower?" she asked Tyler. "Yes. Of course." "Then you should be just as sweet as normal, sweetheart. Hop up on the bed; I'll soon tell you if there's a problem." Tina's manner always seemed a little strange to the girls; she kept saying or doing things they didn't expect. Justin had first gotten his periods before Tina had emerged to return to his side (they both sincerely hoped) for good. Being a boy, he wasn't party to all the female gossiping and mythology and had to learn to cope mainly on his own. When Tina had come on the scene barely two months earlier she had "inherited" his outlook and a few inhibitions and had only had limited opportunity to interact with other females - mainly the three sharing her bedroom at the moment. She had found the openness of girl talk amazing compared to the almost psychotic limitations to what the boys covered together; oh sure plenty of topics but so few dealing with the personal levels of their existence. It was as though they HAD to keep their peers at more than arms length while the girls had their arms around each other. Revelling in the freedom of frank discussion on a range of intimate topics she tended to unintentionally break a number of cultural mores and was quite happy to deliberately break some others. Because of the rapidity with which their unusual sexual interactions had altered their lives, the girls as a group had not yet developed a social pecking order that allowed them to comfortably advise Tina that one did not say or do some particular thing. In so many ways she was leading them into fresher fields and the others had, on many occasions, ended up being willing, and later grateful, followers. Tyler lay down on Tina's narrow bed and bent her legs to give her the same easy access that Katie had given Leslie. It didn't take long and she was catching up with Katie. "Still sweet darling", Tina reassured her. That was another thing the girls had individually noticed - both Justin and Tina used endearments that the three of them were reluctant to use; if you were just experimenting, or even having fun, it was with a friend not a lover. The two cousins seemed quite eager however to make a much stronger commitment. Tyler didn't beat her friend to an orgasm, neither had quite reached those heights before Katie asked, "Where's Justin tonight?" Leslie HAD been wondering the same thing but had also hoped Katie would have been too "busy" dealing with Leslie's caresses to think of the question, let alone to take the time to ask it. Oh well, maybe they would all find out. Tina looked at her bedside clock. It should be okay now. "I suspect he's eagerly waiting for us as we speak. Don't you think he'll appreciate us a bit more if he's had to wait?" The other girls couldn't fault that, though Tina had actually been more concerned to get her parents settled. "Give me a second to check it's safe and we'll pop next door." Tina drummed her fingers on her brother's door as she headed through the dark house to the kitchen. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bowl of strawberries and another of whipped cream. What was a party without luxurious snacks? Her parents' light was out and their door closed; she couldn't hear any noise from the girls on her side of the house - it looked like they were set. With a finger on her lips she indicated that the girls should follow quietly and led the way into Justin's room. He was waiting in the middle of the double bed and as Tina kissed him and sat upon the pillow he simply said collectively, "What kept you?" Leslie copied Tina, kissing him before sitting on his other side. "I would say 'something came up' but it's obvious that was in here." She lightly brushed her fingers over the mound in the bedclothes. Katie gave Justin a much warmer kiss and sat opposite Tina, stripping her T-shirt off while he was welcoming Tyler to his bed. He had looked closely at the top Tyler was wearing when she had entered the room since only a single button kept it closed. Then he had looked even more closely at Leslie's Baby Doll outfit as he tried to make out her intimate details. It was understandable therefore that he hadn't taken quite the same interest in the plain cotton shifts Tina and Katie were wearing. That changed however as Tyler sat back and he caught his first glimpse of the red outfit. "Wow!" Katie decide that his reaction had earned him the surprise she planned for later. Since he was already familiar with her naked body, in degrees (one part visible while the rest was obscured on some rotating roster), she hadn't been sure whether he would have been suitably impressed in her outfit. She should have realised that a large part of marketing a product is in the presentation and nice packaging could make all the difference as to whether the product was left on the shelf or not. While his mouth was still wide open and his eyes roamed over Katie's form, Tina dipped a strawberry in the cream and popped it into the opening. Justin closed his mouth, chewed and swallowed without moving his eyes more than simply up and down. All four girls laughed when his mouth dropped open again like a hungry bird; he wasn't too stunned to be unaware that there were further strawberries. Tina dipped the end of another berry in the cream and wedged it between Katie's exposed breasts. The red fruit was only a little darker than her outfit and the cream only a little paler than her skin. Katie dropped her jacket down behind her so her breasts were in full view rather than being inadequately hidden by the flimsy material. Aware that the fruit was for him (well he made that assumption since no-one else was hurrying forward to take it), Justin crawled forward to kneel in front of the most luscious fruit bowl he had ever seen. He smiled at the erotic sight, unaware that Tina and Leslie were having a quiet giggle together as his balls were exposed from behind. He bent his head down and seized the offering, the fruity one, between his teeth and, not being particularly greedy - at least where food was concerned - he presented it for Katie to eat. She opened her mouth and he pushed the succulent strawberry through the portal. She tasted the strong flavours of the ripe fruit and the rich cream and began to chew. Justin had seized her lower lip with his teeth and the movement of her jaw tugged it gently from his grasp. She swallowed and kissed his waiting mouth; the lingering tastes were obvious. "Thank you Justin." "My pleasure, my dear." He began to move back to his original position but noticed either Tina's placement or his removal of the fruit had been less than perfect; there was a small blob of cream lodged in the wonderful natural chasm between Katie's breasts. He leaned forward again and ran his tongue along the crevice. Katie shivered. Tina had carefully prepared another strawberry and she passed it to Leslie who leaned over and undid Tyler's remaining button. Tyler opened the shirt but there was no way a strawberry could be lodged between her unsupported mounds. She leaned back when Leslie gently pushed her and Leslie debated simply using the other girl's sternum as a plate. The valley between those two wide hills was an attractive location, as were the summits of those geographical wonders. She dobbed the cream on one nipple then on the other and left the berry on Tyler's breast bone. She sat back and looked at Justin. Justin had hoped they had intended an arrangement along the lines of "one for Justin, one for Katie, one for Justin, one for Leslie, one for Justin, ...". He was however willing to forgo that pleasure for a different sort. If he was to serve the strawberries up to each person he intended to do the job to the best of his ability. Katie had been holding his hand and he reluctantly retrieved it, giving her a sad smile before turning to Tyler with a gleeful one. He bent over her breast and swept his tongue over the surface, scooping up the cream as it tickled Tyler's nipple. He carried it to Tyler's mouth and she sucked his tongue between her lips. She smeared the cream across his trapped tongue and when he recovered it he ended up with as much of the dairy product as her. He was better prepared with the next scoop, circling the nipple at a safe distance then swooping in to pounce on the cream. When Tyler opened her mouth like a fledgling in its nest Justin rubbed his tongue over her upper teeth and then pressed his lips against hers. Tyler responded by pressing her coated tongue against his mouth but he refused to give her access, his eyes sparkling as they gazed across his cheek into hers. And now the strawberry! He started his snail trail at her navel and worked his way up her body until soft abdomen changed to bony sternum; and dessert. He bit into one end and tasted the sweet juices as he carried it aloft. Tyler opened wide and Justin lowered it slowly, releasing it as their lips met yet again for another strawberry flavoured kiss. Tyler hugged him to her. He made everything so much fun. Leslie wasn't ready to strip off her outfit but didn't want to get cream on it either so she stopped Tina from dipping the strawberry in and used her finger to scoop up a small dollop instead. She spun around on the pillow and lay down with her feet up the wall then wiped the cream on her clit and pressed the strawberry into the opening of her vagina. She tilted her head back and gave Justin an upside-down smile as if to say "I dare you". There was no need; he had a grin almost from ear to ear and his only concern was whether he should save the cream for her. Because Leslie had made it necessary for him to clamber over her to get to his, and her, prize he figured he had earned it. Once again he started from her navel but proceeded in the opposite direction from Tyler. Crossing her belly he fought his way through tangled undergrowth to reach the creamy lump. His tongue pressed down hard, spreading the cream and causing Leslie to arch up against him as well. The area cleaned to the satisfaction of both participants (and of the other spectators who had moved for a better view), he pressed on and in. Justin forced his tongue against her skin so that it slid under the strawberry rather than simply pushing it deep inside her. Having recovered it he used his tongue to press it onto his teeth so he could lift it out and carry it back over Leslie's prone body while she left a trail of kisses from his pubes up to his chin. She opened her mouth and he dropped it in, almost missing the sides. She crushed it to the roof of her mouth and tasted the mixture of its juices and hers. "Strawberries and cunt taste even better than strawberries and cream!" She threw an arm around Justin's neck and held his inverted mouth against hers while she invaded and fought his tongue. Magnanimous in victory she freed him to provide sustenance to the remaining girl. Tina could have copied Leslie but wasn't interested in a direct competition. Instead she simply wanted to have fun with the brother who was more safely described as her cousin; even the three girls sharing his bed and his body would be likely to be upset should their actual relationship be known. Kissing Cousins was one thing, Fucking Families was quite another. She took the strawberry and coated it then placed it between her lips where her teeth gently held it in place. Justin was confused at first; he didn't see how he could "give" it to her if she already had it. Perhaps she wanted to give it to him? He kissed her with both sets of lips circling the strawberry. When he tried to sink his own teeth into it Tina shook her head slightly. "Okay", he thought, "I can't bite - am I allowed to kiss?" He put his mouth over hers much as he had with Tyler and felt the strawberry being pushed into his mouth. He knew he couldn't bite so he waited for it to be forced past his lips. That didn't happen as Tina sucked it unexpectedly back into her own mouth; Justin was just wondering what he should do next when it was just as suddenly back again. This time it was given completely to him but Tina sucked the air from the back of his throat and he suspected she wanted it back. He figured that they must be playing oral table tennis or something similar. Their kiss lasted a little longer than the strawberry; it was inevitable that it should suffer some injuries as it travelled and both of the young people felt the other sink their teeth into the side as it was passed back and forth. In the end Tina did swallow the battered but juicy fragment after crushing it and sharing the flavour as her mush covered tongue once again entered her twin's mouth. Katie had grown impatient towards the end of their prolonged foolery and had taken three strawberries from the top of the bedside cupboard and, after dipping them, had leaned across to where Tyler was lying back watching Tina and Justin. Katie gave a flick of her head - a "come on over" nod to Leslie - and had placed one creamy strawberry on the centre of each of Tyler's mounds. She gave Tyler a kiss and then dropped the remaining strawberry into her mouth before going to collect her own. Leslie had seized hers between her lips and was pushing it into Tyler's tit. The creamy coating allowed her nipple to slide out from under it and Leslie had to work hard to keep the berry centred. Eventually she had to eat the strawberry and then concentrated on cleaning up the magnificent mammary. Katie had planned a different approach, selecting what had been the mushiest strawberry which she simply flattened to a paste on Tyler's other breast. Like Leslie's exercise, it proved a harder job than she had expected; not because the strawberry wasn't soft but because Tyler's breast was as well. Katie found she had to cup her hands around each side of the breast to contain it before using her tongue, and finally her lips as well, to turn it into a sauce. It reminded her of playing with a water-filled balloon - squeeze it in one place and it simply pushed out somewhere else. The cream had gotten spread around too but it was possible for Katie to spiral her tongue in from far enough away from the small spire to clean up both fruit and dairy product. Tyler was clean, if you discounted a little stickiness and the lingering smell of a dairy. Tyler had "suffered" through all this without complaint. In fact the two girls had found themselves encouraged at every step of the way. First Leslie and then Katie had their heads held in place so that they were required to continue their actions should they have had even the slightest inclination to desist. Then they found their host and hostess rewarding them for their efforts; each had pressed a thumb into the wet orifice presented to them - Tina into Katie's vagina and Justin into Leslie's. The twins proceeded to finger fuck them as the girls tucked into their desserts. With only a little effort both Tina and Justin moved a little around the side of each girl without having to remove their thumbs. This gave them access to the breasts that dangled down to brush against Tyler's waist. Katie felt Tina's fondling touch as her thumb worked in and out. She remembered how Justin and then Tyler had responded when she had touched their assholes while wiping them clean and wished that Tina would make a similar investigation while her butt was pointed skywards. She was curious but the idea seemed dirty and she didn't know how the others would react if she suggested that someone, anyone, touch her asshole so she could find out what it was like. She had pressed her own finger against the entrance with little effect but she had learned, in oh so many delightful ways, that another's hand could feel quite different when applied to her body. Leslie found the dual stimulation while she was licking and sucking another girl's breast to be the most erotic combination she had ever imagined. Actually her previous erotic imaginings had been rather tame. She had never been invited to a sleepover before and hadn't known what to expect of even an innocent visit. Her encounter with Tina and Justin had held the promise of more to come though the presence of Katie and Tyler had indicated that tonight wasn't going to be the night. She had tried to drop hints that she had been introduced to the pleasures of the body by the two cousins without actually being open about it but the other two girls hadn't responded; indeed, coached by Justin and Tina, they had just looked perplexed. When they not only showed a willingness to "play" but also indicated by their actions that it wasn't something new on their parts Leslie had been overjoyed. She was able to be open and it certainly looked like the night would provide even more and varied entertainment. Tina removed her thumb from Katie's pussy and reached for the cream. She scooped some up and wiped an abundant layer down the lower part of Leslie's spine and across the ass cheek closest to Justin. She repeated the process on Katie, curving the creamy path in her own direction, the she put each digit in turn into her mouth to suck them clean. She finished with her thumb and behind the obvious dairy flavour she could taste the heady juices from Katie's cunt; she desired more! She repositioned her fingers inside Katie, wishing just once that she could possess Justin's prick and seeing herself pushing it into that tight hole. "Perhaps when we are merged?" She bent to catch up with Justin and licked the cream from Katie's back in a series of short passes. She ended up by planting a kiss on her butt before once again cleaning the juices from her digits. Tina didn't know about how Katie or the girl under her felt but she herself was getting both hot and frustrated. So often she had played the role of seductress and once again she had missed out on the stimulation the others had received; and yet, the ideas swirling through her brain had her hotter than ever. If she hadn't promised herself that she wouldn't fuck her brother tonight she thought she would be throwing her leg across him and riding him right now! Leslie was coming and Tyler was yelping from having Leslie's teeth embedded in her tit flesh as the girl clenched her jaw. Katie wasn't far behind but when she started shaking it was only her pursed lips that pressed against Tyler's other breast. The bed shook from their agitated threshing until the twins finally took mercy upon them and let them rest. There was no rest for Justin however. Tina threw the pillows on the floor and pushed him across the bed in their place. She then lay across him and pleaded that he eat her pussy while she returned the favour. Justin looked up into her thighs and at the trace of her pussy visible past his nose. He could smell her arousal; hell, he'd be in trouble if his mother came into this cat house a week from today - the smell of arousal past and present was so strong. It took only a minor extension of his tongue to experience its taste as well. And then Tina began to swallow his prick. Neither paid much attention as the other three girls, granted ringside seats, leaned on their elbows with their faces mere centimetres from the action. Admittedly, while it WAS possible to look down past Tina's puckered ass-hole to see Justin's face, there was far more to be seen at the other end and they all crowded to watch Justin's prick disappear past Tina's lips. As Justin did the right thing for Tina at one end, she rewarded him at the other. Since their unusual situation gave him a special insight into her requirements he found himself being frequently rewarded; so frequently that Tina found him lifting his hips in am effort to force himself deeper into her mouth. She recognised the signs of his forthcoming ejaculation and acted upon it, not in her usual manner of changing to a hand job or letting him calm down a little and then fucking his brains out, but rather by increasing the sucking and bobbing and licking motions designed to bring his release as quickly as possible. She felt Justin's response at her pussy and gloried in his touch and the knowledge that he was finding her extra efforts as pleasurable as she found his. She noticed her audience and put on a show for them as well. She lifted her head until Justin's prick was fully visible, her lips merely kissing the tip, then she rapidly plunged her mouth down its stiff length until the head pushed against the entrance to her throat; moving up again before she could gag. Just managing to keep his shaft in her mouth she plunged downwards again, and then once more. It was time. She knew he had passed the point of no return - it was time to put on the show. Adjusting her hold on his balls to ensure his prick was steadily aimed, she opened her mouth a little above it. She felt his muscles tense in her hand and the surge pass her thumb. It gave her just enough time to react and she lowered her head and closed her lips around the pulsing head before the cum could splatter against the roof of her mouth and drip out. The three spectators saw Justin fountain into Tina's mouth and then their friend pumped him dry with her cheeks dimpling as she sucked and swallowed. Tina didn't really enjoy the taste but it was bearable and when they merged she got to share the memory of how good it had felt to Justin. It was only fair that he got to share the knowledge of what it was like to swallow his cum. As the emissions lessened and finally ceased she lifted her head and smiled at the stunned audience. Justin hadn't yet resumed his stimulation of her pussy so Tina was relaxed enough to pass her finger over the tip and extend her hand with the smear to Katie. Leslie watched Katie lick the drop and repeat the offering to Tyler. Tina squeezed the remaining contents of the still hard prick so there was more for Tyler to collect. She did so and presented the ample offering to Leslie. There was no hesitation, Leslie sucked Tyler's finger into her mouth and fucked it like Tina had fucked Justin's prick with hers. When she returned it to Tyler, Tyler took Leslie's hand and dipped a finger into the remaining ooze. "Give it to Justin." Leslie looked twice at her and then did as she was told. Justin wasn't at all surprised and she found him copying her actions before releasing it with a smile. "Welcome my newest cum sister." He had given up on "sibling". "Newest!" thought Leslie. "How much have I been missing?" The general response to Tina's exhibitionistic display had been "Wow!". There was a real curiosity as to what it would be like to have his prick explode in their mouths combined with an uncertainty whether they would now be expected to do it too and how they would look if they were the only one not able to repeat Tina's example. While none of their other friends or acquaintances would own up to giving blow jobs there were the inevitable horror stories involving AFOAF; horror stories tended to make better telling than "She enjoyed it so much, that's how she always starts and ends her dates now." It was Katie who took the initiative though. She thought she had more than just a crush on Justin and wanted to show him how much she did care for him. As Tina sat back onto his face and left room for Katie to get over his cock; she moved forward and put her mouth where Tina's had so recently been. The first thing she noticed was the far stronger taste of his cum; while Tina had cleaned up his organ it was inevitable that there be some residue. The second thing she noticed was the wonderful object that filled her mouth. It was far more filling, if more docile, than another's tongue. She was delighted to run her tongue over it, building an image of its shape in her mind's eye - the soft ridges and the mushroom head that the others had made fun of but which she still found adorable. The final thing that struck her was how the noticeably softened organ changed its mind and began to harden as she ran her tongue over its surface. The darling thing was alive, it was striving to reach out to her and she wanted to keep it as her personal pet. In fact she knew just where she could keep it! Katie began to suck and tease Justin, not as energetically as Tina had, but certainly in a way that was both pleasing and annoying. She knew this because he kept lifting his hips as he tried to push it deeper into her mouth and had moved one of his hands from supporting Tina's ass to run his fingers through her hair. He definitely wanted more of what she was giving him. Katie had a knowledge that she hadn't imparted to any of the others; she didn't think she would - "all's fair in love and war" and while she wasn't feeling warlike she was in the mood for some serious loving. Desperate to be able to fuck the boy whose penis was lodged in her mouth, she had sought the assistance of a cousin who, while not treating her request as a laughing matter (with the exception of her estimate of Justin's conjugal abilities), did see the humorous side of two gay men explaining to a young girl just what they liked so she could use the techniques on him (okay she wasn't going to bugger Justin but there were other things they could discuss). As a result her first actual blow job was a technical success and an emotional high point for both her and Justin. (She "claimed" two earlier attempts with Justin but really they only consisted of putting his penis into her mouth.) She took the opportunity while she was head down and tail up to dip her finger into her own private ink well and, when it was coated and Justin was close - for the second time in fifteen minutes - she pressed the slimy finger into what she hoped was a reasonably clean ass hole - his not hers. It was an intrusion that he had not encountered to that depth before though it was her earlier brushing contact with his and Tyler's sensitive rings that had spurred her into asking her cousin about that part of the human body. She had found out more than she really needed to know for now - she was more interested in filling her vagina with the hard rod rather than her ass but it was good to know these things and to wonder about the "places" she might actually go in future. She hadn't Tina's experience though and was caught unawares when the pocket rocket blasted off. Her cousin, or rather his partner, had explained some of the finer points of etiquette regarding blow jobs - some of which she was quite certain was bullshit but others made sense when one considered how both people should treat their partners if they loved them. For Sir, it was a case of being grateful for whatever services Madam provided (treating Sir2 as an honorary Madam for these rules) and always to approach the matter as a voluntary gift rather than an extorted payment. For Madam, it was a matter of honour that, having brought Sir to such a state, she not leave him unfulfilled; if possible through a selfless act of consumption and if that wasn't possible then at least through the laying on of her healing hands or by clasping him to her maternal bosom - or even by fucking his balls off. Katie found herself in a situation where her pride wanted her to engage in a little "anything you can do, I can do better" competition while her stomach wasn't quite as prepared for that. She got the first emission down and the second but then it felt like they might be coming up again. She cursed herself for having to drop Justin's still spewing member while she regained her control. She felt someone by her and found Tyler had taken over, eager to try out a cock herself since all she had seemed to get so far were the left overs once the main event had ceased. Tyler too found the thick oozing substance was different from the light droplets but was able to both catch and swallow the final spurt and the earlier coating where the semen had splashed against Katie's closed mouth. It was that splash that Leslie dealt with. She, like Tyler, had stood by the side of the bed to better watch Katie in action. Now she sat Katie up and stood between her legs to lick her cheek and chin. She kissed Katie's lips, holding the sides of her head. "You were magnificent. Have you done it before?" "No", Katie choked a little at the taste in the back of her throat. "I think I prefer eating you dear", Leslie smiled and Katie nodded. Pussies were much nicer but now and again she wouldn't mind a spurting cock, if it were Justin's; just not quite as much. "It might be an acquired taste." "And you plan to acquire it?" "I don't know. Maybe for the right person. How about you Tyler?" "I can take it or leave it. I have to admit it does come in an attractive package." Justin, face now free again, added his comment. "If you'll excuse me for referring to you in that way I've now come in three attractive packages. "Since you said 'attractive' I think we might forgive you cousin dear. Especially since you gave me such a lovely come of my own." The others were equally appreciative of the efforts their companions had made; really it was self-congratulations all round since none had made any less of an attempt at satisfying the others. Tina had climbed off her incestuous twin after Justin had caused a series of shivery waves over her body while Katie was dealing with the consequences of her actions at the other end of his body. She had found the other girls' enthusiasm to be infectious and was pleased, for Justin's sake, that Tyler was prepared to take his cum- smeared cock in her mouth. After all he deserved something special from time to time - he was her loving brother - and besides, it selfishly gave her a break too. Tina looked at the two girls standing by the bed. "Do you feel like another good come?" Leslie and Tyler looked at each other, smiled and nodded. "Can I make a suggestion?" asked Justin. ********************************************************* Continued in Chapter 12

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Doppelganger Part: Chapter 25 of 31 Summary: Justin was born with a little extra - a set of female sex organs - but that was just the beginning. Keywords: mfff, 1st, oral, anal Language: English Copyright: 2005 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* INTRODUCTION Justin Rogers was born with something special - a complete functional set of female sex organs. Eventually he found they didn't really belong to him but to his twin sister Tina who spent much of her early life sharing his body. Since she is able to emerge from and rejoin him, they share their memories, their experiences, and their sexual desires. They shared each other and later the delectable Kaitlyn, or Katie, Norton. ********************************************************* PREVIOUSLY Katie's brother David had unexpectedly "pleasured" two sisters and as a result had appealed to Justin and Tina for assistance learning more about the ways of pleasuring women. Tina had agreed to teach him, and his friend Douglas. ********************************************************* Continuation from Chapter 23 while the events of Chapter 24 have taken place. ********************************************************* Katie had been curious about the sex toy they had collected from one of the houses the three of them had burgled. Justin and Tina had done their usual trick to get into the locked houses and then Katie had helped them search. Not curious enough to try it out herself - who knew WHAT nasties the owner might have! - Katie was certainly curious enough to want to know more. And isn't the Internet a wonderful tool for learning? Katie wasn't gullible enough to believe everything she read in the sites that sold the butterflies and other assorted gadgets, clothing, oils and lotions, magazines, tapes or DVDs. She did find a couple of newsgroups that were relevant and spent a few hours working her way through threaded messages in which people related their experiences and rated various products. Since they had plenty of people citing problems or dissatisfaction Katie felt she could trust the writers' collective wisdom more than the commercial sites. That allowed her to go back to those sites with the objective of making a list once she had checked the prices. Then it was time to visit her cousin. --- "You only seem to come around when you want something! How about a normal visit sometime - and bring your fellow. He's cute! Let's see that list then... Oh my god - I don't even know what some of these things are!" ----- "... and this ties around here and you switch it on..." "Ooo! Nice!" Katie was showing the other her "treats" and had kitted Leslie out with her vibrating butterfly. What next was the question? Tyler's split was annoying her (Leslie's fist really had been too big to go in there!), so nothing to aggravate that. "Pity", Katie thought, "I could see how she likes the double pronged vibrator. I bet she'd like that as much as I did. Perhaps Justin can try that later when Tina's finished with the boys." She hadn't had a chance to show her boyfriend the little collection she had started - it was sure to grow. Maybe the tit clamps then. Katie had still to try those herself but she did understand how they were supposed to be used. She held them up. "Game Ty?" Tyler figured she had survived Leslie's hand up inside her (fortunately without a trip to the Emergency Ward), a little squeezed nipple shouldn't hurt too much. The model Katie had chosen were smooth surfaces that could be closed together with small thumbscrews. They came with a series of small lead weights that on closer inspection proved to be simply fishing sinkers of various sizes. Unlike the teethed version, these would simply slip off if too much weight was applied or the optional linking chain was pulled too hard. Katie couldn't see any reason she would want the skin ripped off her nipples in some silly accident and believed the others would feel the same. "Tell me if it's too tight." Katie was supporting one of Tyler's large breasts with one hand while the other twiddled the small screw. "Let me." Tyler's fingers edged Katie's away and she proceeded to tighten the clamp more than Katie would have dared. The increasing pressure was - interesting. It didn't actually hurt, not like a pinch but it was a feeling that was, well, THERE. Tyler KNEW she had a nipple, it wasn't just an unregistered part of her body. It was certainly a feeling she couldn't have easily described. She gave the knob another little turn; her nipple now squashed out the sides reminding Leslie (whose insides were starting to get all quivery) of a marshmallow trapped between thumb and finger. How could Tyler keep turning? "Okay. That's enough I think. Where's the other one?" Katie handed it over and watched Tyler confine her other nipple while they darkened. "What have you got for me then love?" "Ah no peeking!" No peeking indeed. The first item she brought out was a special hood that would cover his eyes while leaving ears, nose and mouth free. In keeping with the widespread spirit of adventure Justin let his girlfriend fit it over his head, the straps at the back tugging on his hair a little as she tightened it in place. Two thick pads pressed gently but securely against his eyes so he wouldn't be catching any glimpses along his nose. Now he was unable to see what was happening, Katie enlisted her friends' aid for the next step. "Lie back on the bed." Katie caressed Justin's prick as though she had something special in mind. She did but it had little to do with a hand job. She straddled him, rubbing her hands over his chest and along his arms. Pressing them away from his body she put her weight firmly over them while, at her silent direction, Leslie and Tyler wrapped a lover's handcuff around each wrist. Without bed head or foot to secure her lover, Katie had spread chains underneath the bed. They fastened his arms and then his legs to his other limbs and to the legs of the bed as well. Justin was spreadeagled and helpless yet he could only grin as he waited for what was next. But Katie had a mind to tease - and Justin kept waiting. "Let's check those out Tyler. No problems?" "No they could probably go up a notch or two tighter." "Why not try a little weight on them then?" "I'm game." Leslie sat beside Justin, the buzzing having reached a point where she was contemplating skewering herself on his prick and finally losing her theoretical virginity. Instead she straddled his leg instead and added the knobbiness of his knee to the continuous flutter of the butterfly. Justin tried to bend his leg a little so his knee would stand out more but Leslie's weight and the tug at his ankle prevented more than a demonstration of his wishes. Blinded, he still recognised Leslie's body and his memory filled in the curves, the facial expressions and even the close ups of a pussy he had not yet fucked. He wished at that moment she would find her way up his thigh and strove to nudge her that way with his knee. That only served to make Leslie turn the toy off and drag it from her body. With her clit now open to his touch she slid her wet surface back and forth over his flat kneecap. It moved a little under her, allowing Leslie to pick up a little speed before it abruptly halted and scraped his smooth skin across her mound. Leslie came. Tyler's nipples were no longer squashed. They were squashed AND stretched AND the dark colour of ripe Satsuma plums. "I think we'd better take them off now." Tyler agreed they looked a little worrying but they didn't feel bad; indeed, she realised as her fingers brushed against the tip of one, they didn't seem to feel anything at all. "They're numb!" she declared and hastened to undo the right one; Katie set to work on the other. Freed, the nipples showed no sigh of resuming their shape. Katie squeezed "hers" from the side. "ARRGH! No. No, No, AHH!" Tyler was hopping around squeezing both breasts but studiously avoiding her nipples. They were regaining a much healthier hue but pins and needles or a cramping leg in the middle of the night seemed minor compared to the burning needles piercing each misshapen peak. Tyler pressed the flat of her palms over the front of each mound, hoping that by slowing the returning blood she could ease the effect. Leslie, creaming over Justin's leg, couldn't help herself. Tyler DID look funny and, by her actions, was suffering from a heightened sensitivity than actual pain. "Come here and let me kiss it better." Doubtful it would help, but always willing to experiment in a lusty cause, Tyler stood by the bed. It did actually feel better, quite nice in fact and Tyler was seen humming at her changed condition. Katie cuddled into her and bent her head over to capture the other nipple between her lips - perhaps Justin should try them next. Tyler had an arm around each girl and was just cruising, she couldn't get off on just some breast work unless she was very, very, VERY horny and, since Leslie had become her lover, that had become a distant memory. But she could enjoy herself and it was merely coincidence that her "Yes!" came just as a knock on the door registered. David opened it to encounter a bizarre tableau. His sister was straightening from Tyler's breast - it was still wet with her spittle; Leslie was still busy though and the cover on Katie's bed showed where the side of Justin's wet leg had rubbed against it. And Justin himself! Well! Plus the bits and pieces lying on the bed or poking out of a box or the floor. There were so many things that David couldn't take it all in. "Yes?" It was his sister this time. She couldn't be angry at her naked brother coming into the room and she no longer worried at him seeing her either naked or fooling with her friends but nevertheless she didn't appreciate the interruption. And he could at least stay limp instead of getting a boner as he looked at the four of them! "Tina asked if she could have two more", he asked. "If you're not going to run short, that is", ha added. Katie reached her hand out to Justin's prick and stroked it twice. "I think I'll manage." She was showing off now but she also wanted Justin wondering what was going to happen next. She went to her drawer and gave David four rather than two. Tina might not need, or even want, so many but she could always return them or David could keep them for when he needed them - so long as SHE got a little privacy. Everyone (ignoring Justin) had come but her. And she was going to fix that - and stop ignoring Justin as well! "There you are - bye now!" Katie shuffled her brother out the door. Tyler was back to normal, or as normal as she ever seemed to get these days. Katie had trouble picturing how Tyler had been when Katie had first tentatively licked her nipple. It seemed so long ago but it had been just a year or so. Now both of them were so active she wondered her parents weren't trying to curb her rather than finding reasons to get out of the house as often as they did. They had said nothing to either herself or David but they must suspect at least she was fooling around some. All of them had fooled around, with others and with different ways to please themselves and their partners. Katie's parents might be familiar with some or all of the ways themselves but they probably worked their way through them gradually; nowadays the information, complete with graphic descriptions or images, not to mention advertising, meant people like them did things a lot sooner. For instance, Katie had fooled around with each of her companions' assholes a little and tonight, after seeing what Tyler was capable of doing, there seemed no reason not to take that a step further. The question was how. In her box Katie had a variety of toys in various sizes and also some tapes. It had cost her a couple of hundred dollars to get everything but she thought that should keep her going until she was legally able to go shopping herself. The money itself hadn't been much of a problem; most of it represented the balance of their one and hopefully only foray into housebreaking. Though the intention hadn't been to leave the house owners out of pocket, the sizeable sums of money carelessly left around one of homes had proven too attractive; if they didn't value it the trio who had found it did and added some of it to what they had taken from the unlamented Ritchie to finance the rest of their quest for justice. That there was some left over meant the not-quite-anonymous benefactors was also financing their quest for pleasure. She hadn't gone for the extreme though, certainly nothing to rival Leslie's fist! Variety had been more important and Katie had figured it was better to buy too small than too big when one was talking internal fittings. The main problem she had now was whether to keep it all hidden in one place and risk losing the lot or to spread it around in smaller batches and increase the chance that one would be found by accident. She had a set of anal beads, still brand new; Russ had recommended them, to her cousin Frank's chagrin and Katie's amusement. She had a thin butt plug, gradually expanding to perhaps the width of Justin's thumb, maybe a little more, and then a slightly steeper gradient until it reached a narrow crosspiece that would fit along her pussy and between her butt cheeks. She wondered if she dare wear THAT for a day at school - there soon wouldn't be many more opportunities for a while. Then there was the multifunctional vibrator plus another simpler version and a smaller model again. Together with the butterfly and a rounded cylindrical vibrator called the "Power Pill" which came with a control box on the end of connecting wires, they made up her collection of vibrating toys but there was one more. Tucked away for the moment was a snakelike double dong. It wasn't that she WOULDN'T share it with the others, she just wanted to christen it when Justin and Tina were "together" with her. Katie reached for the tube of gel lubricant - already depleted - and applied the nozzle to Justin's ass. "What?" "Be quiet or I'll have to gag you!" Justin didn't know the threat was mostly hollow. She COULD wad up a pair of panties and put them in his mouth but, unless one counted the odd pussy in her room, Katie had little else to keep his mouth covered. Justin felt her press the first small sphere against his asshole, maintaining the pressure until she caught him relaxing; it slipped inside. Slowly, gradually, one after another was deposited in his rectum until only the circular ring-pull was left outside his slick orifice. That was Justin prepared, now for herself. It was Tyler and Leslie's turn to watch but Katie had nothing against them helping her prepare her own ass. The larger of the two plain vibrators went in first, filling her wet cunt and setting her hips a buzzing while she squirted yet another dollop of lube into her own ass. The smaller brother (they HAD to be male) knocked on her backdoor and patiently waited until it opened and he was allowed in. The tip felt so nastily nice as it hummed against her sphincter. Then, as it spread the circle of muscle with its widening diameter, Katie felt the vibrations producing a harmonious chorus within. With Leslie licking one nipple and Tyler the other, Katie felt she had more pleasure than she could possibly take, but she put on a brave face and took whatever they could throw at her. Katie's ass was getting used to the intruder and she thrilled to the feel of it working back and forth. She would bury it and then feel the exquisite sensation of the vibrator being slowly ejected from her body. Back it went, only to be forced out again. The larger vibrator was closer in size to Justin's prick and Katie wondered if it too could enter at the rear. Little Bro' went bye byes as the larger vibrator took up the challenge. It was a little harder and Katie had to retreat and rest a couple of times before the long straight sides of the vibrator kept her butt hole open at a constant width. The buzzing now felt so nice Katie wanted to share it with Justin. Leaning back towards his feet, Katie sat between Justin's legs, still spread wide as they were tied to opposite sides of the bed. She rested her pussy against his vertical prick so the base of the vibrator, jutting out of her ass, rested against his sack and massaged his balls even as her slick pussy rubbed his prick. Leslie, knowing Tyler was "incapacitated" by the slight tear near her vagina, decided to sit facing Katie, trapping Justin's hardness between their pussies. Justin accepted her weight on his abdomen - he didn't have much option except to complain and at the time he didn't think there was much to complain about; indeed it was likely to prove counter-productive. It was all a jumble of knees, Leslie having to rest hers over the top of Katie's as she struggled to get close enough. They gripped each other's wrists and heaved, pulling their bodies firmly against the upright pole. Once they were there they relaxed and Leslie leaned back to rub her cheek against the side of the leather mask. She was enjoying the sensations as the vibrations that started in Katie's ass travelled through the base of Justin's prick behind his balls and up to her now recovered clit. It felt good; it felt good to all three of them. Of course, there WERE four in the room. Tyler was only watching and she didn't think THAT was fair. Still there WAS a lovely prick just sitting there - well "standing", and only the end of it could really be seen past the combined thatches of Katie's and Leslie's bushes. It was enough for her to wrap her lips around and she immediately tasted his pre-cum through the flavours of the two other girls' pussy juices. Justin simply lay quietly and enjoyed the attention. He turned his head and found Leslie's earlobe which he wetly nibbled. He found Tyler's attempt to push her outstretched tongue far down the sides of his prick while keeping only the head engulfed by her mouth to be delightful. He wondered if she was making enough contact with the two girls at the same time to delight them as well. He didn't mind not being able to see the special event; even if his eyes HAD been uncovered, Leslie would still have blocked most of it anyway. "Er. Soon, Tyler." He didn't know what her intentions were but felt it only fair and polite to offer the warning. Tyler sucked hard and licked furiously, her sensitive tongue picking up the slight indications she had gone too far. Her head came back quickly, she just had time to watch the first plume rising above the fountain to land over her lover's curls. Justin's body must have moved a little as the next three decorated Katie instead. Tyler dipped her fingers in and smeared it around the knob she had just finished sucking. It wept rather than splashed now and she rubbed his cum into the sensitive skin until he could take no more. Of course, with his arms and legs secured and Leslie's weight stopping his body dodging Tyler's hand, Justin had no choice but to suffer. It was cruel and afterwards he let her know how much he loved it. --- The girls climbed off and Katie dislodged the vibrator. It had felt very nice but she still hadn't come. She and Leslie went to the bathroom together and when they came back it was with a warm cloth to clean their prisoner up. Tyler wiped the residue from her fingers as she took it back to the bathroom. Katie still wanted her come and Justin was going to provide it. She had found she could fit something equivalent to his prick up her ass, now she had to get it firm enough to actually accomplish it. She climbed across her lover's body and snuggled into him briefly. "Still alright love?" "No pins and needles yet so I think so. Thank you all for that last come; it was good." "Well show your appreciation for it by getting hard again. I want you to imagine your prick easing its way up into my - tight - hot - ass - hole. Do you want to fuck my poor little ass?" She glared at Leslie and Tyler who were trying not to laugh. "Is this a trick question? Do I get mine fucked first if I say yes so I know what it's like or something?" "No. No tricks. Just, my dear Jussie, if you DON'T have any objections then I plan on sticking your sausage between my buns and play 'Hot Dog'." "Well I can't think of any, but if something does pop up I'll let you know." "Something already is showing signs of popping up so it's too late. Let's see if we can encourage it." Katie began to lick the nipple over her side while motioning for Leslie to do the same. Tyler instead went straight to the centre of the problem and started licking over and around the semi-hard penis. There was the slight taint of his recent release but if Tyler hadn't been familiar with the flavour she might have missed it. It was more fun to consider the next one rather than the last any way. She enjoyed the feel of Justin's prick hardening in her mouth; to know, while the credit often (as now) had to be shared, that her actions were responsible for the reactions of Justin's body. To give someone pleasure, knowing they were just as prepared to give you pleasure in turn rather than just selfishly only taking, was mildly rewarding. To know that she was about to see yet another outrageous event staged by two loving friends only heightened the excitement. To have her own lover in her arms, or to be wrapped in that lover's arms, while watching would make everything so much better. "I think he's ready." Tyler halted herself before actually uttering the words. Justin was certainly stiff enough and Tyler was tempted. Tyler didn't want to steal Katie's fun by making him come and didn't want to upset her or Leslie but she did wonder what it would be like to have something a little smaller than Leslie's arm inside her. Her pussy wasn't hurting her, well not enough that a little lust didn't override any concerns. Tyler climbed up on the bed, sitting on one of Justin's legs as Leslie had been when David had unexpectedly entered. Katie briefly watched as Tyler wrapped her hand around the knob and then went back to nipping at Justin's nipple. She had no jealousy about what Tyler and Justin would get up to. Tyler moved forwards, straddling his other leg as well and pushed Justin's prick back towards his belly button with her wet pussy. That end was undamaged and the hardness rubbing across Tyler's clit only made her more eager. She lifted, adjusted his position and sat. "Ahh." There had been a little tenderness but many an actual virgin had put up with fucking with a torn hymen. With the right attention the good vibes overwhelmed the bad ones and the experience was enjoyed. Tyler wasn't much different. Leslie and Katie had turned with Tyler's changed position and both witnessed the descent of her nominal virgin cunt over Justin's prick. "I thought that you would have to go slower Katie, or that it would be tighter." "You know it's Tyler, bastard!" "Whoever it is, everything feels wonderful." Tyler thought it did too. Her first real fuck and she wasn't ready to take things further - for now. She climbed off and this time it was the much stronger taste from her pussy that she found on his prick; she hoped the lube used on Leslie's arm would disappear soon as she didn't want Leslie put off from eating her. "I think he's ready." Tyler relinquished control to Katie. She now wanted to see the show. Leslie gave her a kiss as Katie took her place, tube of lube in hand. "And?" "It felt good there. I certainly wished I could have stayed longer but there will be other chances and I am a little sore." "Sorry about that love." "Don't worry, THAT was an experience I don't think I'll ever forget - and that's in a good way. The soreness will pass; I've had worse cramps. But I do want to try it out again sometime. Is that okay?" "Of course. I hope to try one some day as well. Just - not yet." Their quiet conversation ended as they paid closer attention to the sight of Justin about to take his second cherry in as many minutes. Did it count as a double if it was *HIS* first ass fuck as well? Katie positioned Justin's prick against her asshole. She had swathed it with a condom from her shrinking stock before coating that with even more lube. Having read about the nasties she could possibly give him and not relishing the idea of sucking on him until he had washed SEVERAL times if he hadn't worn the covering, Katie was willing to forgo the experience of feeling his semen spurting into her body - this time. It felt different from the vibrator she had earlier pressed against the opening. Perhaps it was his thighs rubbing against her legs, and making them spread wider than she had needed to for the toy. Perhaps it was the slight compression of his flesh and the movement of his foreskin compared to the hard plastic solidity. Perhaps it was more importantly the slight thrust upwards as Justin sought out the orifice himself. It certainly was easier to slide herself over the head than the initial penetration with the vibrator had been. Katie just let herself become accustomed to having her asshole stretched again. She wished she had cleaned up either of the two vibrators she had used before so she could slip one into her cunt as well. The vibrations from her pussy had felt so nice when she had been pushing the smaller toy back up every time her ass has squeezed it back. Well Katie didn't want her ass rejecting the current implant - not just yet! She lifted just a little until she felt the collar around Justin's prick stretching JUST a little more and then smoothly sat herself down the length of his hard pole. She knew how deep she had managed to take the larger vibrator without harm or pain. She took Justin to that depth and then explored her limits. It was her first time and she was cautious, though the vibrator had removed any fear. Yes, it was sometimes a little uncomfortable; Yes, there had been a slight jolt of pain when she had moved too quickly at one stage; Yes, it felt strange at times. But it had also felt unexpectedly good. She now had a better idea of what Frank and Russ must feel; it was decidedly different from normal fucking and, though she would have to rate it a poorer experience personally - at least so far - she would not reject it as part of her continuing repertoire. After all she liked her breasts being caressed, licked and sucked and all that was nothing to getting eaten or fucked. She would still offer her tits to the others! She slowly lifted herself up again and slid down the greased pole once more. "How's that Jus?" "Unbelievable. You squeeze me with your pussy but this is like a mega-squeeze. I'm glad you put a condom on because I don't think I could have lasted this long otherwise. I really don't know how long I *CAN* last." Katie was surprised at this comment as were her two observers. Justin had just come. He would normally be good for a few minutes more, especially at the slow speed Katie had been moving. They joked about "tight assed" people - perhaps it was more than true. "Well we will just have to see what we can do to make that more enjoyable when it happens." Katie hadn't forgotten about the ring hanging outside Justin's own ass, though the lack of any pressure on THAT opening had made him forget about the string of spheres currently buried inside *HIM*. Katie ignored Justin's feelings for a while as she began to fuck herself along his hard prick. Well she couldn't actually "ignore" his feelings since he strove to bury himself in her ass in a manner even more energetic than usual. However she did ignore his wishes to either come or to hold off his release. *SHE* was going to do what felt right to her and if he happened to come as a result - well, she would be ready with the beads. Justin didn't actually come as quickly as he had expected. His brain was certainly stimulated enough to demand a release but his body did need a little more time. It was time that Katie put to excellent use. She experimented a little with her position as she slid up and down. If she leaned back towards Justin's head the angle of his prick more accurately matched the angle of the cavity it filled. Friction lessened and she could move more quickly. Greater speed meant Justin found the lighter touch was offset by more frequent bumps and grazing passes across his knob. If she leaned towards his ankles, his prick pressed into the back of her rectum and the sphincter tightened around the intruding object. Now she came almost to a standstill but Justin's knob was able to slide against the firmer contact with her bowel wall. Bent with her forehead almost touching Justin's legs, Katie had a sometimes painful grasp around a shaft that was close to parallel with the surface of her stretched asshole. When she did move the sensations were too intense for either of them. When she just rested she could feel every little movement of Justin's body transmitted through his prick to her sphincter. It was worth the discomfort. But Katie craved the feeling of the hardness moving through her, filling the depths of her body in ways that she had been told were most improper. She sat upright again and began to increase the tempo. Justin, of course, had *NO* chance. His hips lifted up as Katie sunk down and she felt his urgency building. She was going to have to do this again with her lover freed to choose his own tempo as she knelt with her ass presented to him for a good reaming. Would that be as good? How could she explain to the others just how nice this was? Perhaps they would just see and could later find out for themselves. She knew, though she wouldn't have been able to say just what the signs were, that Justin could hold off no longer. She could only hope the lube she had applied to his ass would be adequate - it was the first time she had tried out the beads and a one line explanation of their use was not necessarily adequate. She pulled and felt the chain stop as the first ball came up against his asshole. "Come on you bastard. You're not getting stuck in there!" She had visions of Justin having to go to hospital to have the beads removed much as they had feared Tyler and Leslie might have needed assistance. Justin had applied brute force and Katie did the same. Tyler had yelled in pain, Justin did for another reason. Oh it did hurt a little as the first one or two spheres forced his sphincter open but then he relaxed a little as his body treated it as a more natural function and each lump sent a shiver through him instead. One after another, the chain of beads grew longer while Katie bounced harder. His release was so much more intense. Katie's free hand, which had been resting on Justin's leg for much of the time, had found its way to her pussy and Katie was finger-fucking herself while getting her ass well and truly fucked. A little clit work with a spare finger and thumb and she was soon coming herself, pleased that her first ass fuck *HAD* turned out as rewarding as she had been led to believe was possible. Justin came while she was still working on him and then her body shuddered around him, the constricting sphincter crushing a tight ring midway along his length. Katie had to stop moving; she certainly withdrew her hand from her pussy. She *HAD* to rest. So did Justin. Catching her breath, Katie could feel the change inside her even more than she could when it was her vagina surrounding the shrinking organ. Her body seemed to gather in around it and, just like the vibrators, was working to eject the foreign object. Katie had no words to describe how it felt. It wasn't quite like shitting, yet the signals from her rectum seemed to be telling her body that was necessary and she expected to have to leave the room shortly to respond to that stimulus regardless of whether it was real or a false alarm. Neither though was it quite like the ejection of his limp prick from her vagina - except in one respect. Katie reached down between her legs to hold the condom in place as Justin left the confines of her body. As more of his prick was ejected the rest sped up. It had taken a while for the first half to be squeezed out, the second half had gone all at once - with a proportional increase in the pleasant feelings it left behind. Katie climbed off and examined both the condom and the string of beads. She wasn't sure WHAT to expect but the condom was remarkably clean as were all but the innermost beads. She bent over to give Justin a kiss, "Lovely Lover!" and then took the "offending" articles, together with the two vibrators that had also been visiting, off for a good scrub down. She called back through the doorway, "Can you let him up please?" Justin deserved his freedom and probably felt similar urges to herself. She *DID* have to sleep in the bed and preferred not to have to change the bedclothes first. Katie felt a whole range of emotions as she cleaned herself and the toys up. - Wickedly dirty as opposed to unclean; - Delighted at her successful foray into a whole new area of experiences; - Excited at the interest Leslie and Tyler had shown in her activities (it wasn't JUST a matter of showing off was it?); - Satisfied that she had given Justin something new that had been pleasing for them both (and, for the first time, involved an activity that Tina hadn't shared with him yet - perhaps she did get green-eyed at times!); - Loving towards all of her friends for the good times they had shared and to Justin for just being hers. She mused over whether her own parents ever engaged in anal sex. No, that was not quite right; "anal sex" wasn't a term that went through her thoughts. Katie instead wondered firstly if her mother took it in the ass, then if she liked it and, thirdly, how she would respond if Katie tried to ask her about it. It was all delightful fantasy - she could never see herself doing THAT. She couldn't actually see herself asking Megan, Tyler's mother, about ass fucking and she had become an intimate confident about many matters. She also wondered about Justin's parents. She knew so little about them and their opinions really. They had accepted her as their son's girlfriend. THAT had made Justin's father unnaturally happy and it had only been her special insight into Justin's nature, and how his father had rationalised away any suggestion of abnormality, that had allowed her to make sense of his behaviour. That had worked out in their favour though they didn't really know - Mal Rogers had been so pleased at the evidence of his son's masculinity that he hadn't interfered in situations where they might (read *DID*) get up to "hijinks" and had discouraged Justin's mother from getting too nosy as well. It was almost as if he would welcome an accidental pregnancy though Bernie wasn't about to go THAT far. Bernie had been a little trickier to deal with. Since Justin was coping well at school she hadn't objected to the time he spent with Katie and the others. Katie knew that Justin's mother was one of the few people who shared the knowledge of Tina's existence but she didn't know that Katie knew. Keeping it secret from Tyler and Leslie was hard enough but when she had to also keep the secret of the secret from Bernie whenever Katie saw her looking at Tina as a long lost child returned it was even harder. Katie knew how hard it was to have a secret one couldn't discuss; she felt SURE Mrs Rogers would be feeling the same way. Once more, as it did whenever she thought about it, Katie realised the love that Justin must have for her to trust her with the knowledge most dangerous to his safe existence. When he joined her in the bathroom, eyes blinking at the renewed light, he was surprised at the intensity of her kiss. "I love you Justin, now and forever." "Forever!" A word and a kiss sealed his pledge to her. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Boy Meets Girl Meets Girl Part: Chapter 13 of 25 Universe: PdV's Boy Meets Girl Meets Girl Summary: A romantic view of the unusual erotic encounters of three older teenagers Keywords: mfF, oral, F-solo, f-solo, exhib, toys, rom Language: English Copyright: 2003 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* Cilla, Sonia and I had forged an unlikely three-way relationship recently culminating in the loss of Cilla's and my virginities with Sonia's assistance. It was the weekend and my spare time had been organised for me. WARNING : Some practices detailed in this story should remain just that - fiction. If you can't distinguish between fantasy and a danger to yourselves and others, please stay out of motor vehicles. ********************************************* SATURDAY ======== Well I had now been introduced to the rest of Cilla's family - Jean (decidedly frosty reception) and John, identical twins Andrew and Greg, Ron Jr and little Andrea plus her parents Ron and Ruby. Jean must have spoken to her parents because they seemed somewhat distant at first although they did appear to give me the benefit of the doubt and by the end of lunch had considerably thawed towards me. Even Jean was friendly enough. All because I had been spending time with Sonia at school during the week. Jean had noticed our behaviour and thought that I was being "unfaithful" to her sister. What she couldn't understand was why her sister had suddenly started spending so much time with her "rival" herself. They had even gone shopping together on Thursday afternoon! What Jean didn't realise was that Cilla and Sonia were as much an item as Sonia and I, or Cilla and I. Regardless, I enjoyed most of the morning; the younger kids were noisy and persistently "in your face", but good natured. Needing five bedrooms, the house had been extended and was big enough that anyone who was annoyed with another person could find somewhere to keep away from them. This, together with earlier warnings from both Cilla and her parents that their best behaviour was required, meant that things were "relatively" peaceful. I got the tour of the house and grounds early on with an enthusiastic young entourage showing me various items of interest. Cilla's initial attempts to shoo them away being unsuccessful she ceased trying and shrugged her acceptance of their presence. Cilla and I didn't get anytime to ourselves other than quick cuddles in passing when we were helping set things up for lunch. It didn't matter. After missing her all week I was just enjoying being with her and finding out more about her, in some cases the revelations by her family causing her some intense embarrassment. After lunch most of the kids scarpered for a while leaving Cilla, Jean and I to talk with her parents. I seemed to spend a lot of my time attending question and answer sessions lately. First Sonia's mother, then my parents "grilling" Sonia and Cilla, and now my turn again. It must be a separate chapter in the parenting manual. I must have made a good enough impression however as their farewells were quite cordial on our departure. We had told them we were going for a drive to the Marina. My uncle had a boat moored there and I was going to show it to my "lady friends". If I could arrange it I hoped he may take us out over the summer. We hadn't mentioned taking Sonia so I suppose there may have been some surprised looks out the window (I noticed the curtains moving) when we didn't drive off straight away. Sonia came to the door and ushered us inside with a big kiss and hug each. She confirmed that her mother was out - do women do anything but shop? (All correspondence on this matter will be ignored.) We went into the lounge and sat down together, declining Sonia's offer of hospitality. "I have a little something for each of you", I started, "and I wanted to wait until we were together." I reached into my pocket and removed the three ring boxes in their paper bag. "We have been together for such a short time that I can't really say how things will turn out, but I do know that right now I care deeply for both of you and from what Sonia has told me you both feel the same way about me and about each other. I hope that we can manage to continue to build on this and make it work. "When I saw these it struck me how appropriate they were. When I look at them I see us and I wanted to give them to you so you know how I feel." I opened the package and set the ring boxes on the coffee table in front of us. When I opened the boxes there were gasps from both of the women who had taken my heart. I noted which ring was which and passed them to their new owners. They removed them from the boxes and examined the fine workmanship. Red gold, yellow gold and platinum were plaited together to form a single ring from three distinct bands. I did not have to explain the symbolism to them. With tears in their eyes I was suddenly attacked from both sides as my loves let me know how much they appreciated the rings. I took Cilla's ring and slipped it onto her finger saying, "I love you." She replied, "I love you", as well and kissed me tenderly. I took Sonia's ring but Cilla said "No" and took it from me. She placed it on Sonia's hand and repeated her endearment. Sonia responded in kind. Cilla then took my ring and gave it to Sonia. She understood; it was a giving between us, not from one to the others, regardless who had paid for the rings. She slipped it onto my finger, "I love you". I kissed her and responded again, "I love you, too." We managed a tearfully happy group hug. I couldn't have chosen better presents. ----- We parked by the beach and walked along the board walk towards the marina. It did feel a little unusual walking hand in hand in hand but the casual contact was rewarding. The girls had decided without comment to walk either side of me; I don't think they were quite ready to "come out" in public yet. I would have accepted any solution; I had missed my passionate pair during the week and was willing to take whatever they offered. It was actually more interesting and complicated than just holding hands however. From time to time I would catch one or the other or both around the waist as we stopped to look at something. We would walk on and change again. It can be a little clumsy walking that way if you are not all in step; hips end to sway and crash against one another upsetting your stride. Still, banging hips and all, it was a wonderful way to spend the day. We got a few stares but we could live with that. We went past bay after bay of expensive boats, both power and sail, moored behind locked gates. We took our time, selecting which boats we would like to own "if only". When we got to my uncle's mooring we found him hard at work. "Hello Uncle Frank." He looked up, surveying me as I stood on the dock with a pair of interesting young women. "Hello Glyn." "These are my friends Cilla and Sonia", I indicated each in turn. "Cilla. Sonia", he nodded his greeting. "Come aboard." Uncle Frank eschewed power boats. He didn't denigrate their owners, after all there were insensitive, incompetent and even idiotic people who managed to own sail boats (though the worst tended to keep their's for show and the occasional dockside party) and there were many power boat owners who were responsible, alert and caring of both their equipment, the environment and other's lives and enjoyment. He just felt that in the main they were the equivalent of SUV drivers who never left the suburbs. A sailor "sailed". A bachelor, he devoted most of his spare time to his first love, the sea, although the offer of a days outing often led to plenty of loving elsewhere. He knew how to treat a woman with care and respect and, if it had taken a while to find one who would put up with him full time, there were plenty who didn't mind seeing him on a part- time basis, including a couple who had full-time husbands as well. Frank watched the young ladies as I helped them aboard, admiring their lithe limbs and imagining the rest of their teenage bodies. He acknowledged his lecherous nature to himself and was unconcerned that they would most likely not reciprocate his interest. Hey, it was his fantasy, not their's. He wondered however where, if anywhere, my interests might lie and which of the young ladies was therefore riding shotgun. I think he would have been amazed and probably somewhat congratulatory, if he had known the truth. He was part way through resealing a section of the timber decking and couldn't leave the marine varnish until he had completed the task. He instructed me to show my friends around while he finished up. "Help yourselves in the galley." He had to reprovision before he took the boat out again and anything we ate would be that much less for him to clear out. I showed the girls over the accessible parts of the deck and then down into the cabin where I poured us a drink. I checked with my uncle and had a drink ready for him when he was able to come down. He talked to us as he washed up and then joined us. He unfortunately was unable to play host for us for long, his wife was waiting to go out and he had to get moving. It would not be a great hardship - the smell of varnish was strong and would be no better on deck. He did offer to take us out sometime soon; an outing I would look forward to following my older brother's tales of his own adventures. [ Advert : see "Bruce's Story" for the details ] It was still only early afternoon when we drove away from the marina and my companions asked if I minded them going window shopping. I didn't and they directed me to a bustling shopping precinct where we parked in a side street off the quiet end of the road. We were going to stroll down one side and back the other. There were a few shops that required a closer look - a couple of trendy giftware shops, a couple more clothing stores including a menswear store where they checked out possible clothing for me and an ice cream parlour. We even made a note of a restaurant that looked worth visiting at some stage (Oh my god! A real date?) We were almost back to the car when Sonia noticed a store down another side street. "Hang on. Come down here." Adorned with a number of warning signs advising that entrance was strictly forbidden to minors, the store had a couple of window displays featuring some rather innocuous lingerie - the main themes being either fire station red, crotch-less or fantasy wear. "I want to go in here for a minute." "That's about all you will get too, Love. Didn't you see the signs? You have to be 18." "Well Cilla is 18." "That doesn't mean we can go in with her." "But we have to so I can explain what I want then she can buy it. She's allowed to!" I was doubtful but Sonia was insistent; Cilla hadn't been in a sex shop before and wanted me to accompany her "just in case". Looking around the street to see if anyone was watching us, I reluctantly agreed. Cilla went in first then Sonia while I, dreading the owner's response, trailed in last. What an amazing place. There were glass cabinets full of phalluses of varying colour, length and width; there were tapes and magazines, leather clothing, frilly clothing, mask, whips, gels and creams; there were unusual instruments for insecure men and also a range of novelty items and, finally, there was an attractive young woman behind the counter where we had expected a balding, middle-aged, overweight, cigar-smoking man. "I'm sorry", she said, "but I can't let you come in here if you are under 18." Cilla, knowing she at least could prove her age, went self-assuredly to the counter. "It's alright, they are just young for their height." The manager wasn't phased by the distraction. "I AM sorry but I can get into trouble if you aren't over 18 - and so can you." "Well if you have told them to leave, and they say they are going, would it be your fault if you were serving me and didn't notice they took the long way to the door?" The woman wasn't really too worried. If Cilla was buying she didn't care if we were there for a little while. Trading had been a bit quiet so far that day. "I would suggest that the path out gets considerably shorter if someone else comes in. Now, miss. How can I help you?" Cilla grinned at the concession. "Can I have a little look around first?" "Certainly." Cilla came over to us. "Okay, don't dawdle too much. What do you want Sonia?" Sonia had been looking around while Cilla was speaking and took us over to a cabinet filled with dildos and vibrators in various designs. "Let's see. They have numbers on them. Oh! These are just samples. Get your notebook out Glyn." I fortunately keep a notebook & pen in my pocket just in case I have to write down a phone number, book title, grocery item, sex aid number, etc. Sonia discussed her requirements with Cilla and got an okay about the cost. "Okay, Glyn. Vibrators V0650 and V7500 - better have two of each." She remembered back to her little adventure at the doctors surgery; Cilla was likely to need her own. She considered some of the other items and thought back to some entries in the sex manuals she had been reading. Water-based lubricant, "Lube L400". There were a number of dildos - she thought she would skip those, for now anyway, but then she saw a long double-headed one. Hmm - there had been something about girl/girl sex that mentioned these, "Er, and D1640". While there were some other items she was interested in, Sonia decided we had enough for now from that cabinet. We skipped the novelty items like edible underwear and glow-in-the-dark condoms and also the mags and tapes. I would have liked to have checked the latter items out but I was overridden with a promise we could come back another day. The girls had no use for blow up dolls - neither did I, the real ones were a much better design. They did like the outfits though. I didn't realise that they were plotting something special for my forthcoming birthday and were checking out the kinky costumes in case there was something to tease me with. Sonia noticed one more item and whispered in Cilla's ear. "Come on", she turned on me, "we aren't supposed to be in here. I don't know WHY I let you drag me in here!" I tore off the list and gave it to Cilla before making my overly delayed exit. Cilla took it to the counter. Sonia might place the order but she was the only one legally allowed to ask for the toys. She decided that it was definitely easier dealing with a woman only a few years older than herself rather than some man who could have been her father. The manager filled the order from the list Cilla gave her, adding fresh batteries and testing each in turn to see that they worked. As the buzzing filled the store Cilla was thankful it was otherwise empty. When the woman got the dildo Sonia had requested she winked. "Feel free to come back if you want to test this out or you might like to have a look at some of our other models." Cilla might have been put off by the offer only a few weeks earlier but now was merely not interested. It was the first time she had been approached by a woman (our situation was a little different) and, though she recognised the implied compliment, she didn't know quite how to respond. "Oh, Thanks. Umm, do you have a catalog or anything?" "Sure." She showed Cilla who nodded. The woman added the remaining items and totalled up the bill. Cilla had enough cash to cover it, for which she was thankful. She could just see herself explaining a purchase from "Madam Sin's XXX House of Pain and Pleasure" or similar if her parents saw her credit card statement. As Cilla took her change and goods (in plain brown wrapper) and walked out the door the manager called out, "Thank you for shopping with us. I hope you'll be back and don't forget the demo." The woman considered the sale - four vibrators and a double dong - looks like the young ladies were more than friends. So what was with the guy? A brother perhaps? "Still", she thought, " The older one isn't bad. Pity she wasn't here by herself. I might have had to shut up shop for a while. Oh well. Maybe she'll come back!" ----- We crossed back over to where the car was parked and got in. Cilla handed Sonia her bag of goodies and Sonia withdrew the four vibrators. It was a case of "one for me and one for you". I missed out but didn't mind as this promised to be a situation where spectator sport was almost as interesting as playing yourself. Soon the car was buzzing with the sound of four vibrators and the laughter of three young people. "Why don't you try them out on the way home?" I suggested. "It won't distract you while you're driving?" "If it does I'll pull over, I promise." Sonia had previously experienced the pleasure a vibrator could bring and was eager to comply with my suggestion. Headless of anyone passing she reached under her skirt and, lifting her bum off the car seat, pulled her knickers off. She opened the glove box and put them in while asking Cilla, "How about you?" I reached over the back seat to get a throw rug in case of "emergencies". Cilla was closing the glove box when I turned back and dropped it on the floor between them. I turned towards Sonia and reached down between her legs. She scooted forward slightly so she could open them wider and let me rub her crack, searching for the dampness I wanted to spread over her pussy. She in turn reached between Cilla's legs and started diddling her. Cilla, noticing some people approaching in the side mirror pushed my hand out of the way and started playing with Sonia herself. "Just drive." Licking my fingers, I started the car and pulled out from the curb. I drove slowly to make the trip last a little longer and to allow me a little more leeway to observe their behaviour. Sonia and Cilla had their arms crossed while they mutually massaged each other. I took the opportunity from time to time to fight Cilla for access so I could lick Sonia's juices from my fingers and on one occasion Sonia put hers to my lips so I could enjoy the taste of Cilla. "What about your toys?" I reminded them. The preliminaries had been so pleasant my ladies had forgotten why they were being performed. Both judged the other wet enough so they stopped, Cilla licking her fingers while Sonia bent to recover the vibrators resting on the rug. She took one of the larger vibrators and put it against Cilla's pussy. Cilla leaned back as Sonia wriggled it gently until its tip rested in the entrance to her cunt then pushed it in a little way and flicked the switch to start it quietly buzzing. As Cilla gave a little exclamation of pleasure Sonia withdrew it slightly to increase the coating of slippery juice and pushed it deeper. Unlike the younger Sonia, Cilla had never experienced the tingles passing throughout her pelvic region as the vibrations passed her cunt walls. She felt it bottom out against her cervix and found the vibrations increased in intensity as she clamped her vaginal muscles around the plastic toy. Sonia left her to find her own pleasure and soon had the second vibrator buzzing against the entrance of her own sweet hole. She had special plans for her still-intact hymen and wasn't going to risk damaging it by pushing the buzzing tool inside her, no matter how much she felt she would enjoy the feeling. She clamped her legs together to keep it tucked against her pussy. As I drove I found the buzzing harder to hear, the noise being absorbed by my lovers' bodies. Lucky vibrators; I was envious of them. With the happy feelings bringing back memories of her first experience with the handy toys, Sonia reached for the two smaller vibrators. She decided it was too hard to lube them up and use them anally in the car so she passed one to Cilla and simply applied the other hummer to the area around her asshole. Cilla watched with interest. "Where did she learn these things?" she wondered. It looked as though Sonia liked the effect so Cilla copied her and was soon plying the buzzing rod all around her own asshole. She used her other hand to move the larger toy around inside her. She tried various movements until eventually she found a spot that was even better than the rest. She withdrew the vibrator slightly and pressed it down so the tip was rubbing against the front wall of her vagina. Moving it in and out she made frequent contact with the nerve endings there that heightened her pleasure. Both girls were encouraging each other with their gasps and moans of pleasure. I was rock hard myself as I tried to concentrate on the traffic rather than the young ladies jilling themselves next to me. We were all surprised by the air horn going off next to us. I had been passing a truck, just easing along in the next lane, and we hadn't realised the view the driver had. Cilla was even more surprised when she looked up out her window and saw that the face grinning down was another woman. Cilla cheekily returned the woman's wave and then went back to putting on a show. She laid the small vibrator on the seat between her and Sonia and proceeded to use her finger to frig herself. I maintained my speed so we kept level with the truck, much to the annoyance of some of the cars behind us. Sonia switched off her own vibrators and leaned over to see out the window. "Lets put on a proper show." Fortunately I drive an old Dodge Plymouth which has more than ample legroom in the front and Sonia's small body was easily able to squeeze down between Cilla's legs. She pushed Cilla's hand aside and gripped her hips to make her scoot a bit further forward then pushed Cilla's vibrator deeper so she could bury her face in Cilla's pussy. We got a series of encouraging toots from the truck next to us; it did swerve a bit close at one stage but generally we travelled on a parallel path. Cilla lifted her t-shirt and, with a fair bit of effort, managed to pull her bra up over her gorgeous tits. With Sonia eating her pussy, the vibrator buzzing away deep inside her hot twat and now her hands on her breasts and nipples, Cilla was also relishing the added excitement of exposing all this to some passing stranger. That was all it took and she gripped her tits tightly as the inner earthquake overtook her. Sonia became aware of the change that overcame Cilla and lifted her head to see the effect of the pleasure she had given her loving friend. Watching the face observing her, she slipped up the older girls exposed body to first suck on her nipple and then to plunge her tongue into the waiting mouth. The truck driver gave a final toot of appreciation for the show as I decided to pick up speed and finally let the traffic pass. Sonia resumed her seat and Cilla made herself slightly more presentable. We drove for a while with Cilla now helping Sonia reach fulfilment by rubbing her pussy with her fingers. When she did climax she clutched Cilla to her; I had to concentrate on my driving but rested my hand on Sonia's thigh so she could feel my presence. It wasn't much but it allowed me to convey in some way my pleasure in her release. The girls had a mutually comforting kiss and cuddle, expressing their thanks as they packed up the now silent buzzers. When they eventually turned around Sonia noticed the lump in my shorts. "Oh you poor dear." She started rubbing me through my pants. It was enjoyable but frustrating as the sensations were muffled by the clothing. She reached her fingers up the leg and scratched at my cock head, only making things worse. She must have sensed my growing frustration as she held my waistband in one hand and drew the zip down with the other. She fumbled around through the opening (men's clothing is not designed to function with an erect penis!) and finally managed to manipulate my prick out of its lair. "Now you just watch your driving and ignore anything else that might be going on", she warned me. "Fat chance", I thought. "You can both get your licences", I told them. I liked the idea of being chauffeured around by one lusty wench while the other was in the back with me satisfying my every desire. For that I would even be prepared to pay for their lessons. Before that could happen though I was stuck being the sole driver and it was therefore fortunate that I was on a stretch of road with little other traffic and no pedestrians. It wasn't the shortest route home by any means but it certainly was considerably more private. It took us along a costal nature preserve where dune buggies and trail bikes had been excluded from the sand hills. I knew there were a number of parking spots where birdwatchers and nature lovers could quietly commune. I had a couple of birds that I enjoyed to watch and was by nature a lover (not a fighter) so I headed to one of the spots with Sonia beating my meat. After all, my house would be busy, Cilla's was never anything else and we couldn't guarantee that Sonia's Mum would be out. I had been well and truly aroused by their previous activities (showing off for the truck driver was completely over the top!) so Sonia's fist soon had me on the verge of my own little messy explosion. "Ah, wait please." I tried to control myself. Sonia released me and waited for an indication of my desires. "If you're going to continue I'll need a tissue or something. You have almost got me coming. Cilla unfastened her seatbelt. "I've got something." She leaned over Sonia's lap and put her mouth over the mini-tower protruding from my pants. Oh what a feeling! She lifted her head. "Can you still drive?" There was no traffic, the road was visible for a considerable distance ahead, there were no houses or sidewalks and I had slowed to 40 km/hr. AND I was on a "promise". Of course I could still bloody drive. "Yes, I think I can manage." She kissed my prick, ran her tongue along the underside and around the head, and finally plunged her hot wet mouth back down along the shaft. She wasn't trying for subtlety; she knew I was close to coming and as she didn't mind the taste of my semen, unlike Sonia, she was just trying to get me to come as quickly as possible. It worked! As she fucked me with that glorious mouth I felt the surges as pulse after pulse of cum passed along the shaft of my prick, the head swelling within her mouth as my heart pounded more blood through it with each beat. The spurts hit the back of her mouth and were quickly swallowed, vanishing down her throat. She kept her head bobbing until it was clear she had drained my balls for now and my boner started to subside. She lay her head on my lap between my navel and the steering wheel and just held my limp dick between her lips, sucking it in and out by varying the air pressure in her mouth. Sonia in the meantime was comforting Cilla, one hand stroking her long red hair and brushing against her cheek while the other caressed a different sort of cheek. I enjoyed the feeling but I had had my satisfaction and needed a little break. The porno myth of the stud ploughing his way through a roomful of beauties without a break (and a tube of local anaesthetic cream) must be just that. I can come over and over - hey I still hadn't reached my supposed prime at that stage - but certain parts do need time to recover. The prick head had started to get sensitive and somewhat ticklish and I was squirming in my seat. "You better sit up, Dear. That was wonderful and I love you but I need you to stop. Cilla! PLEASE!" With a laugh and a cheeky grin she resumed her seat. "I'll remember that - you refused a blow job!" "I HAD a blow job and a very nice blow job it was too. It felt amazing and we were lucky the road is so quiet. If you like we can stop and I can show you how much I liked it." "I don't know", Cilla said, messing around. "You might have hurt my feelings. Maybe I should just let Sonia look after me." "Okay if she must, but tuck me back in first, Grasshopper; we would look really good if we got pulled over." So Sonia did the honours, carefully slipping me back into my shorts and zipping me up again, making sure I was tucked away from those metal teeth. Every guy understands the zipper scene from Something About Mary - (I won't mention hair gel); if it hasn't happened personally there have probably been close enough "shaves" to make any man wince when he watches that movie. I made sure Sonia was being careful. "I think you should let him show you he is sorry", she told Cilla; her mind however was thinking more about getting off herself. "Alright then. I'll give you another chance." This was a convenient decision as it coincided with my turning into an empty car park. There was a limited view of the sea along a boarded path erected in between two dunes. "Shall we go for a walk ladies?" I bent past Sonia and picked up the rug from the floor. "What about our knickers?" asked Sonia. "Do you really want to put them on again?" Sonia's only answer was to get out the car. "In that case hang on", said Cilla. She reached behind to undo her bra and with some interesting "strap up and down the sleeve" manoeuvres that would have been a topologists delight, her bra joined her knickers in the glove box. Sarah thought this was a good idea. She turned her back to me, "Unclip me please." I put the rug on the bonnet and lifted the back of her t-shirt. There were a couple of eyehooks that needed unclipping then I slid my hands under the now loose garment to cup her breasts as she leaned back into me and reached down to stroke my prick through my shorts, again! "Let me take it off", she asked. I assisted by slipping her shirt over her head, which wasn't quite what she had in mind but she just shrugged and leaned into the car to drop the bra in the glove box next to Cilla's and their knickers. Cilla had joined me. I picked up the rug and, holding hands, we headed towards the dunes. Sonia looked around from locking the door. "Hey!" She sprinted after us not bothering to hide her naked breasts. "Give me my top!" "Do you really need it?" "Well if you're going to carry mine you should carry Cilla's too." "Okay?" I asked Cilla and she skinned herself and passed it to me. They linked arms with me and we proceeded into the quiet surroundings. The idea of the nature preserve was for people to avoid damaging the grasses and salt-tolerant shrubs that provided food and shelter for a variety of animals and the roots helped to bind the dunes in place. I rationalised that we weren't causing any harm and the place was isolated enough that only a few surfers and dedicated birdwatchers would come down here; fortunately surfing conditions weren't favourable today and the birdwatchers were more prevalent at dawn and dusk. We climbed a dune and found a little depression where we could hear any arrivals and could see along the beach. The clumps of grass around us provided a little extra camouflage in the unlikely event that someone came along. I spread the rug on the loose sand and we all sat down in a tangled hug. If you consider how enjoyable cuddling a half naked young lady is, think how much more fun it is to be swamped from both sides by such pulchritude. With all our adventures so far, I still wasn't used to having four delectable breasts at hand, so to speak, and enjoyed the view and feel as we took the time for our bodies to recover. It was a "feel good" time and I was also having a good feel. Fortunately we were all young and the recovery time required wasn't long. It helped that we were three particularly horny teenagers. I lay back and gathered my beauties to me. They rested their heads on my chest and held each other as I wrapped my arms around them. Cilla proceeded to tell me the full story about our truck driving friend. We laughed together and I found myself hardening as her story unfolded. The idea of someone watching certainly made things more exciting if that was at all possible. We took the opportunity to take advantage of our time alone. It had been a pleasant afternoon and I had an idea how to keep the pleasure going a little longer. I suggested that my companions sit up and I laid my arms out straight. "Face away from me and kneel down, sitting on my hands." They were both willing to go along with my suggestion. They knew I had a devious mind and had been the satisfied recipients of my previous suggestions. I didn't mind being thought devious by them as some of their own ideas had been pretty wacky though thoroughly exciting. As they moved into position I raised my thumb and slipped it into their willing slots. Sonia squirmed when it met resistance and I was forced to just rest my knuckle in her wet hole. Make a gun with your hand. You know - you're a kid playing "Cowboys and Indians" or its politically correct alternative. Now plant a warm, wet, furry pussy over the hammer and use your barrel to play with your girlfriend's clit. Bugger the analogy though, feel free to use as many fingers as necessary to do whatever pleases her. I repeatedly bent and straightened my thumbs in their fleshy holsters, rubbing around the internal surfaces. The girls moved their hips around as well and rubbed their pussies against my fingers while I just lay there enjoying the feeling of my hands being squashed against the blanket in such a wonderful way. While neither of them objected to a little manual manipulation, Sonia especially was looking forward to something more. She enjoyed the way that Cilla could actually manoeuvre her almost prehensile tongue within the confines of Sonia's sweet passage. It had been a while since she had felt it (okay a couple of days but she was being greedy) and she wanted it now. "Cilla , love. Will you eat me please. I need to feel your tongue on my pussy." Cilla looked at me. She liked the feeling of my thumb inside her but also liked the idea of it being replaced by something larger. "Let's get Glyn undressed first; he's looking too tidy." Considering they were both sitting there topless and knickerless while I was fully dressed, albeit with a tent in my shorts, I couldn't fault her opinion. Sonia almost broke my hand as she turned around, trapping my palm between her thighs. It caused me to jerk my arm which unfortunately had a counter-productive effect as the movement against her pussy caused her to clamp her legs together even harder. "Up! Please!" I begged. Cilla was gentler. She tried to turn around without losing me and lifted her legs over my arm as she made a less painful 180 degrees turn. Now my fingers were free to play with her asshole as she rubbed her pubic bone and clit along my forearm. She leaned forward and started unbuttoning my shirt while Sonia managed my shorts. With my fingers damp from my earlier playtime and with Cilla's bum pointing skywards I was able to put my arm further through her legs and position a slippery finger at her bunghole. It wasn't wet enough to go in properly but Cilla found the stimulation pleasurable. I didn't try to push too hard. Instead it was just an addition to the feelings she got by dry humping my arm. Having undone all the buttons she spread my shirt front wide and began licking and nipping at my chest. I had to lift my hips so Sonia could strip off my shorts and boxers off. I dug my toes into the straps of my sandals and got them off just before she had to pull my clothing over them. She put the clothes aside and laid down on the rug with her head on my thigh. She gently blew on the fine hairs covering my scrotum. "Stop it. That tickles." I complained in vain and would probably been better off not informing her of the annoying effect; it gave her an incentive to continue. The cool breeze continued over my balls and even over my asshole before she planted a kiss on the top of my dick. She poked her tongue out and ran it all the way from my balls up to the tip. Sonia could taste a residue of semen remaining from the blowjob Cilla had given me earlier. She didn't really like the taste and she could think of alternative means of arousing both her and me. Cilla had climbed off my arm in the meantime and was lying with her head on my chest looking down at what her girlfriend was doing to her boyfriend while occasionally teasing a nipple. I had a hand caressing her butt as I looked at the clouds passing through the sky, just lazily relishing the sensations. Sonia pinched the head of my prick gently, squeezing the blood out and then letting it low back. She laid it down pointing at my navel. "Don't you know not to point a loaded weapon at anyone?" asked Cilla who was almost directly in the line of fire should it accidentally go off. "Hang on, I'm about to plug the barrel." She hoisted her skirt up around her waist (another lovely sight and why was I the only one who had to strip?) and knelt across my hips. She didn't want me inside her, at least not yet, she just wanted to rub against me before Cilla ate her. Her pussy was moist enough to make that ridge of flesh slippery as she slid herself forwards and backwards along its length. It was fortunate that she limited her contact to the shaft as it would have taken little stimulation to the sensitive head and Cilla may have been "wounded" after all. Sonia noticed I was making humping motions as her clitoral slippery dip had me climbing the walls in an attempt not to come. "Come and screw his brains out love - I think I've got him ready enough for you." "But I wanted to eat you." Caring for each other didn't mean suppressing all of our own wishes. "You will sweetheart. He's waiting for you now though." "What an extremely considerate and polite young lady", I thought. Well actually it was more along the line of "Will one of you shut up and fuck me?" In reality of course it was something in between. There was no reason why we couldn't screw two birds on one blanket. I got Sonia to lie back and Cilla to kneel with her head between Sonia's thighs. With me behind Cilla's fleshy ass I was able to fuck her doggy style while Sonia got her wish. I held her hips and sunk my penis to the hilt in her hot pussy. God, that felt so good. The girls had had "slow and easy" in the car, and between sitting on my thumb and now fucking with my balls slapping against her mound, Cilla was peaking as well and wanted it hard and fast. This spurred her efforts towards Sonia; her face was being repeatedly banged into Sonia's twat so she took a firmer grip on her legs and Sonia found her whole body being rocked back and forth instead. Cilla however was able to keep her mouth attached to the wet slit and wriggled her tongue against the membrane that stopped Sonia from filling her hole. "Soon", Sonia promised herself, "It had better be soon!" That thought passed with the need to stop a scream as Cilla's teeth made forceful contact with Sonia's pubic bone as I thrust into her while she was positioning herself to lick Sonia's clit. The burst of pain merged with the burst of pleasure as Cilla's tongue flicked that sensitive organ. Cilla sealed her lips around the spot and sucked, her tongue moving rapidly over a small area of flesh. Sonia bucked her hips as Cilla kept up the motion, feeling her own loins on fire as the tempo of our thrusts got faster, and she finally came hard. Her desires had been reawakened in the car watching Cilla going down on me as I drove and it had taken little time to bring her off a second time. With Sonia in recovery and now feeling her own peak coming, Cilla lay her chest on the rug, arching her back to increase the angle of her cunt so my thrusts had to rub harder all down the back wall of her hot tunnel. "Yes. Yes! More." Her pleas were timed with each forward thrust and now I found her thrusting back. We came as near as together as makes no difference. Coming isn't an instantaneous occurrence so there is really quite a bit of opportunity for this to happen provide one partner isn't spoiling to go home before the other has even arrived at the party. The feeling of your partner reacting to the surge of emotion while you experience your own makes the effort to achieve synchronicity worthwhile though. Cilla had her face resting on Sonia's thin fur over her pubes. As she came down from her own high, and my slick prick slipped from her hole, she rained little light kisses all around Sonia's pussy before lapping at the opening like a little kitten with a bowl of milk. Sonia liked what Cilla was doing but her clit was still a bit tender and she had to stop Cilla after only a couple of minutes of gentle lapping. She got Cilla to just rest her head on her leg. "Just enjoy for a while", she pleaded to our cuddly companion. Cilla lay there looking at the delicate structure in front of her face. It was interesting to examine; just because she was female didn't mean she was intimately familiar with the appearance of that "mysterious" organ. Sonia had exceptionally long inner cunt lips and these had retracted within the wide outer lips leaving just a thin line that folded back on themselves. The outer lips were lightly covered by wisps of fine straight black hair that continued sparsely over the tops of her legs. The inner lips came together in a slight fleshy mound which hid the sensitive nerve endings of her clitoris. I wiped the liquid oozing from Cilla's just fucked pussy before joining her at Sonia's groin. Sonia stuck her legs outwards to accommodate two lovers with their heads on her thighs. We kissed and then took turns to kiss Sonia on her still wet hole. "Don't start me again. Please." I sat up and pulled Cilla up with me. We gathered on the rug together, all bottomless and my shirt open, in a group hug and exchanged kisses while we talked over our plans. Sonia's mother would be home when we got back - she wasn't expected for dinner so we could stop off for pizza or burgers on the way home. We figured we could get a movie and stay in together with her mum. After the movie I would spend a little time with Cilla's family before saying goodnight then see them both the following day. I dressed and we shook the sand off the rug. We went back to the car, my topless loves lucky that there was no-one in the car park to greet us. It had certainly been an eventful afternoon.

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Assassin Part: Chapter 20 of 27 Summary: Ass, sass and sin. A young assassin does more than befriend people when he tries to get close to his targets. Keywords: Mfff, Mf, ff, oral, exhib Language: English Copyright: 2009 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* I had been given the job of getting close to one Adam Pringle - because he was a slippery bastard who was too nasty to live. He was also a hard man to get access to but fortunately his twin children Mark and Kyra were far more approachable. As far as Adam Pringle was now concerned, I was Kyra's boyfriend. Unfortunately his other daughter was blackmailing the three of us with the intention of having a little fun. And if that wasn't enough trouble, my foster-sister Anna as well as Hailey and Rosalie, two of the other players from her girls' soccer team, thought I was *THEIR* boyfriend - the finer details still to be worked out. Hmm. I may have unwittingly made a couple of poor decisions when first trying to build a good cover story. ********************************************************* Our Saturday date had involved a bit of fun at ten pin bowling and a lot more fun in a motel room with it's own spa bath. Now we had to get ready for dinner. --- Anna, Hailey and Rosalee threatened to keep me too tired to think of looking at any other girl. They looked like achieving their goal - Anna left me collapsed on the bed and went to clean up from our latest lovemaking. She closed the bathroom door behind her and I moved up and turned over to lie between my other loves. "I guess we should get ready for dinner - I've enjoyed today though." "You make it sound like it's over." "Can't we have some more fun later?" added Rosalee. "There should be some time but I don't know how much stamina I'll have. It might take me a while to recover enough." "We will just have to see then." They snuggled in beside me. I felt doubly loved and doubly blessed. "Should you be going to a restaurant smelling like you'd spent the afternoon with three cats in heat?" "Hailey I wouldn't mind proclaiming it but the other patrons might be jealous. I had better have a shower." "I get to scrub your front!" "Damn!" said Rosalee, "Well I get to scrub Anna's then." "Do you want your hair wet again?" "Double damn, no." "Then maybe we need to stagger our showers so you have room to dodge the spray." "So - you're offering to wash us all one at a time?" "That wasn't what I was thinking but if that's what you want - and it is only washing..." "Sounds good to me. Shall we see if Anna wants first shot; since she's just finished she might not take as long with him." "That or there will be nothing left of *ROGER* to wash when we get there." "How about I promise to limit you each to equal parts? We are supposed to have a meal together and I wasn't intending that to be just each other." Anna welcomed the idea of us taking turns - she too wanted to avoid getting her hair wet again. Fortunately none of them had long hair though that would have been attractive on any of them; a simple brushing would clear any tangles - or so I thought. I really still had quite a lot to learn about women and their upkeep. Anna thought it funny that she was allowed to wash me down to the bottom of my rib cage - an arbitrary third of my height. She didn't object when I made sure she was squeaky clean, at least from the shoulders down. Actually, having her wash my hair - even if I knelt so she could avoid the spray herself - was quite an intimate situation. It was a non-sexual closeness that made the bond between us even stronger and I was sorry I had accepted her offer once the realisation hit. The last thing I needed was to make my departure harder. Hailey was next purely due to some arrangement she and Rosalee worked out between themselves. I never liked having to be the one to assign an order since I didn't want to be seen favouring one over the others. It was inevitable that I rated them differently for different attributes, qualities, attitudes and activities but that didn't mean I liked one over another by any significant amount. Hailey was quite happy to hear she was limited from my ribs down to the tops of my legs. She made sure any traces of the three of them were gone using her own sense of taste once she had rinsed off the soap. She only teased, not trying to blow me or even make me hard - though she might have rejoiced in the achievement had she succeeded. She did however make me bend over and applied the soap from behind my balls to my spine and then used her hand to spread the lather around. I was bent for her inspection and I guess a girl has few opportunities to see what an asshole her boyfriend has got rather than what he is. At least we knew mine was clean. I returned the favour, though without making her bend as far. It was more like a police "spread 'em" against the shower wall while I made sure everything was in order. Her offer to do "anything" to avoid a ticket was put on hold for another time. Rosalie was next and was a little disappointed she only had my legs to do. With her quick wits she decided that she could reach down my legs while kneeling herself and she positioned me with the water down my back so she was protected from the spray. My prick had been washed so she wasn't entitled to wash it again but we hadn't forbidden her from taking it into her mouth while she soaped up my legs. From a rough though eager approach when she first met my prick Rosalee had developed to a stage where I welcomed her mouth on me. Things did get a little strained when she reached my feet as by then my prick was pointing in the opposite direction. I rested them one at a time on Rosalee's lap and was able to reach a compromise. The others found us like that and protested but let matters rest when Rosalee had to admit she had finished her third and really couldn't stay on her knees any longer. I took considerable care with each of Rosalee's breasts. She wasn't self-conscious of *ME* playing attention to them because I paid attention to the rest of her as well. Standing behind her while I soaped her breasts, with my erection teasing her ass - and her ass teasing my erection - was quite enjoyable and I spent far longer nuzzling her neck like that than necessary. The others thought so anyway. I felt Rosalee's pussy and noticed the juices but made no attempt to wash them away. It would be a shame to waste such sweetness and, if it made her arousal more noticeable over dinner, I for one wanted to smell her. Out of the shower, Anna and Hailey towelled us dry. They each took turns at both of us and I had my prick dried twice - each time with unnecessary vigour in retribution. Then Rosalee re-joined the others in just her underwear and I was sent out to let them assist each other to get ready. I dressed myself - neat yet not formal - and waited. And waited. And waited. The motel provided a hair dryer and I could hear that being used. I could also hear the girls talking but not the subject matter. To keep busy I watched the end of a documentary about Army Ants and then part of one about base jumping from mesas in the Painted Desert. "Roger would you bring our dresses please?" "Sure Anna." I wasn't sure why they couldn't have come out and collected them from where they lay across the bed. There was a long blue dress - from the size of the front I guessed Rosalee's; a much shorter black outfit I had seen Anna with; which left the dark green top and skirt that had to be Hailey's. "Knock, knock." "Close your eyes!" "Closed." A hand came out of the bathroom, took the three outfits from me and closed the bathroom door before I heard, "Thanks." I returned to my rock climbing and dangerous parachuting. Time was ticking away. We would be a little late and I didn't want to lose the booking at the restaurant. I phoned to apologise for the delay and to advise we would still be coming. The person at the other end thanked me for my courtesy and assured me there would be no problem. Waiters don't *HAVE* to match their poor stereotypical reputation and neither do customers. Finally, just before the three climbers launched themselves out into the desert skies the bathroom door opened and I was no longer interested in the television. Anna came out first and the black outfit hugged her like I wanted to do. She looked stunning and indeed I only managed a "Wow!" Somehow her hair had been rearranged to look as though she was really attending a wedding reception. Gone was all of the casual fall of hair around her face. That and the judicious use of makeup made her look much older. Rosalee came out next and the blue outfit was worthy of more than the "Wow!" I deliberately repeated. She had tasteful cleavage and a waist that enhanced her hips. The length - mid calf - emphasised her height however and made her sports-induced muscular bulk seem well proportioned, even slim. I don't know why Hailey chose the dark green but it looked perfect on her. The vest was worn over a white blouse and it lent a maturity to her features that made her appear 100% sensuous woman rather than a girl going on 17. Her legs were in stockings or pantyhose that attracted my eye to the smooth curve of her calves as she turned. Spectacular, one and all. "No wow for me?" "Speechless over the total effect of all of you. Remember I've seen how beautiful you all are naked together but this is just incredible. I feel underdressed.' "That's okay. People don't expect much from boys." "Yes, well, they won't take their eyes off of the three of you long enough to even notice me. Are you ready to go?" They were and I opened the door to our room and ushered them out. The manager of the motel was a few cabins away and the sight of us all dressed up would give credence to the story why we were there though it didn't really matter. I opened the back door first and Anna scooted through followed by Hailey. When Rosalee made no movement towards the door I closed it and opened the front door for her. "Thank you Roger." I received a gentle kiss while Rosalee rested her palm against my cheek. I closed the door for her and found my own seat. My driving could have been better because I was busy at each red light looking across at Rosalee or checking out the others in my mirror and had to be told when the light had changed to green. Anna and Hailey didn't want to mess up their makeup I guess or else they might have been worn out and thankful for a chance to recuperate - I know I was, though the beauties surrounding me made it tempting to turn the car around. In the restaurant car park the girls waited for me to open their doors. This time I opened Anna's separately from Hailey's and then Rosalee's, taking each one's hand as they stepped out. It was all so elegant that it was a pity we were unseen. Anna took my arm, rather than my hand, to be escorted inside with the others walking together - and apart - behind. It was only when we were seated that they explained they had played an elaborate game of Rock- Paper-Scissors to determine who would do what. The restaurant didn't have a Maitre d' - it wasn't that flash - but the Manager acted as that and assisted behind the bar. "Mr Torrent? Good evening. Ladies. Would you like to follow me please? Your table is ready." I guess the phone call smoothed things a little but others were shown a similar courtesy so I think it was more the Manager's personable nature. We declined the wine list though I suspect Rosalee was tempted to see if they might have been able to get away with something. While I was aiming at having an alibi for most of the night, getting arrested for purchasing alcohol for underaged girls was not what I had in mind. We looked at the menus; the restaurant was Greek and though my guests had limited experience with the dishes they were willing to be as adventurous in their dining as they had been in their loving. I suggested that we start with a selection of dolmades and dips and perhaps arrange to have a variety of mains we could share more in the fashion of a Chinese banquet. Since the others were less willing to commit to a full dish they may not like the idea met with general approval and I, who had more experience with Greek takeaway than finer dining, was given the task of choosing four distinct dishes. With the waiter's advice I think we managed. While we waited we talked about matters that avoided our special circumstances. It was more like a normal date except, as I had said to Ma, there were two extra people to carry the conversation through any normally awkward silences. The other nice exception was being able to sit just looking at one after another of the girls; admiring their enhanced beauty and enjoying the affection in their eyes. What was really pleasing was to notice a sudden burst of that same affection when one looked at another. I asked the girls what they were considering doing after they finished their senior year. Rosalee had gone through a series of wished for occupations as she had been introduced to new options through her studies. An introduction to lenses and thin films had given her an interest in optics at present but she had decided, rightly or wrongly, that an optician merely helped the customers chose their frames after a rather mechanical analysis of the problem. She was more interested in the development of better optical systems for astronomical use - perhaps even for space missions. Anna didn't exactly relish working with her father but did see advantages in learning more of running a coffee bar franchise while getting a Business Masters. She liked the idea of being her own boss. I thought she would have the will and the brains to succeed. Hailey was still uncertain. She liked art but didn't have much ability herself ("Those that can't do, sell"); she liked adventure ("That is obvious"); she liked talking to people ("Telemarketer!"); she liked writing (Novelist"; "Steamy romance novelist - autobiographical!"); she had no real clue. "And what about you?" "I'd like to be like a Lonely Planet investigator." "Ford Prefect!" "Yeah - mostly harmless." "Well I could visit the places I always wanted to see, find out what was really good in the area and write about them so others could enjoy them too. Imagine spending three months in Jamaica or Anchorage or Laos and learning to speak the local language." "In Alaska?" "What do they speak there?" "Did you know the Inuit have twenty seven ways of saying 'It's so cold I've frozen my tits off!'?" I gave up, I was only going to get teased more. "Do the articles pay enough to let you stay there for three months?" "I don't know. I wouldn't guess so. Maybe if you were on retainer with some TV network to find spectacular places and events for their travel shows to come film it wouldn't hurt." "Still sounds like you'd want to have earned some money first." "Yeah there is always that." The waiter arrived with our meze; a platter of pita bread and small dishes of dips plus a bowl of large green and black olives, another of pickled octopus parts and a third with rice parcelled in vine leaves. "What are they?" Hailey pointed to the three dips. "Why don't we just try them with no pre-conceived ideas and then when we have passed judgement, Roger can tell us." "Okay. Which one first?" They decided pink was pretty and so we shared the Taramasalata - fish roe paste or, if you prefer, minced caviar. They decided it was "okay" but looked forward to the next. I had little trouble getting them to try the olives though they preferred the green to the black which I enjoyed more myself. Hailey proved she was more adventurous, taking one of the curled tentacles with its pickled suckers and popping it into her mouth without the tentative bite the others felt necessary despite her "chewy yet nice" rating. We had Tzatziki - garlic yoghurt with cucumber - as our second shared dip and this was acclaimed by all. Finally another more obviously garlicky Hummus that Rosalee remembered trying elsewhere. "We aren't going to have much more garlic are we? I can imagine sitting by ourselves in Mass tomorrow with an empty row in front and behind us." "Do you go together?" "We used to have to sit with our families but now some of us older girls are allowed to sit together. You know Tina and Charlotte - Charlie - from soccer plus some others." "Charlotte was the one who slipped me some tongue wasn't she?" "Is that all you remember?" "I remember you glaring at her - I don't know if you were more upset with her or me." "With myself for getting annoyed mostly. I was worried my parents would wonder why." The waiter began bringing out the next dishes and we accepted them simply on the basis of who was closest. "We can either use our side plates or simply pass the dishes around." No-one was going to notice except the waiters and if we didn't upset the other patrons or the staff then it should fall under the rule of the customer being right. "Well I think we are past worrying about catching anything. It seems more messing around to try and fit the big plates elsewhere while we eat off of the small ones." "I'm in favour of musical plates or at least dividing the meals between these large plates." The motion to just change plates after we had sampled the food was passed and we started out. I had Moussaka - a lasagne made with eggplant rather than pasta. Anna to my left had skewers of char-grilled octopus - much thicker that the smaller samples we had shared as our appetiser. Rosalee sitting opposite where her cleavage continued to distract me was the first to try the similarly char-grilled quail ("Oh look how small they are!), while Hailey had tender slices of sweet goat meat cooked with a herbal crust - and more garlic. The consensus all round was that "our" dish was delicious. We shared a Greek salad with lettuce, onion, olives, tomato and feta cheese and it was with reluctance that we held our plates out to the left and took from the right. The food couldn't have been better for *ALL* of us but that seemed to be the case. Another swap and we were surprised again. In the end I had a little more than half a skewer of octopus as my share and devoured it as willingly as the others had before me. If nothing else I had won serious brownie points for picking the restaurant and the dishes. I think I might also have found three new families as customers for the restaurant once the girls spread the word. The dishes were cleared away and we were given a couple of minutes to let the meal settle before we considered dessert. "Do you all like honey?" They did. "Can I suggest something I have always enjoyed then for dessert?" Once again there was a show of absolute trust in my judgement. "Four loukoumades and four Greek coffees please." "Certainly sir." The waiter retrieved the menus and departed. He returned a short time later with smaller forks and spoons and then a little after that with bowls containing a scoop of ice-cream and a serve of honey puffs." "I had a friend when I was smaller whose mother would make these. They are like a donut which is soaked in a honey syrup. We used to get through a dozen each and of course couldn't eat another thing. I have to warn you about the coffee though. It's strong which is why it's in such a small cup but it tastes fantastic. When you get to the bottom it's like mud and you're not expected to drink that. It also helps with the sweetness of the honey." We ate in silence, simply savouring the tastes. One after another the girls smiled at me and I thought how wonderful this evening had been. If it was our last night out together at least it was one I could happily recall. It was while I was enjoying the calm that Anna made a confession. "Roger, when we were getting ready tonight we decided to be a little daring. I guess at first we were a little chicken and then the meal was so nice I know I at least was worried we might get caught and spoil it." Hailey nodded to indicate she had had similar feelings. "I was going to do all sorts of things - really outrageous like blowing you under the table but I guess that isn't possible here - at least without people being well aware of what is happening. So, instead, as compensation of sorts, I thought you might like to try some of my dessert." I had noticed her move her hand off the table with her spoon freshly cleaned in her mouth but Hailey had claimed my attention at that moment and I had missed the way Anna had used it. Now she offered it to me and I could see it half-filled with the secretions from her body. I grinned and let her feed me. "That is even nicer than the honey syrup. You'll have to trade recipes with the chef." Hailey looked around and was satisfied no-one else was watching and let me watch her clean her spoon with her lips then carry it under the table. I leaned forward and found her leg with my hand. Hers brushed mine and I looked across at Rosalee. "You'll never guess what I found under the table!" Rosalee leaned forward as well and I guess she made contact with Hailey's hand from the other leg. "If I'd known you were commando I would have taken you to ole' Kentucky Fried instead - at least there no-one would pay any attention to me licking my fingers." Hailey brought her spoon back after another check around the restaurant and I could see hers was as full as Anna's had been. Hailey didn't offer it to me straight away though; she dipped the tip of her spoon in a little of the soft vanilla ice-cream and *THEN* offered it to me. "Mmm. You realise that I am now going to have to cover you in ice-cream at some stage and lick it all off of you! Any helpers?" Hailey joined the grins. "You can let go of my legs now you know." "Oh? Is there anywhere else you'd rather we put our hands?" I moved mine a little way up her leg and found Rosalee doing the same. I extended my fingers and Rosy and I played "Handies" together in Hailey's crotch. It must have annoyed Hailey no end, though she couldn't say or do anything that would attract attention. She had our hands right next to her pussy - in public - and we were being bastards and not doing anything. "Look after her for me please Rosy." I leaned conspiratorially towards Anna. "Think a stockinged foot would reach that far?" Anna grinned as I returned to my former position and found Rosalee's hand much as I had left it. This time I did tease Hailey's pussy, all the time making small talk - describing one of my classes that no-one, myself included, was interested in. Anna moved her chair forward and then leaned back; I felt her foot nudge my hand and led it into place. Hailey smiled and let her legs part a little. "Put your hands back on the table though - after you pull my skirt down!" She spoke without losing the smile. We finished our dessert, all the while getting to hear Hailey's instructions to Anna. "Your toe is wonderful. Mmm yes just there. The stocking feels scratchy nice against my clit. Was this your idea Roger? Thank you." Anna kept it up even while the waiter cleared our dishes and I asked him for the bill. "Certainly sir. I hope everything was to your liking." "I think everyone found things were excellent." "Yes," agreed Rosalee. "Absolutely perfect." Was Hailey looking at Anna for a reason as she said that? "I will pass that on to the kitchen." "Thank you." Hailey leaned back in her own seat when the waiter left and Anna's eyes opened wider. "This isn't fair!" complained Rosalee. "Sometimes being a girl sucks!" "Rosy I happen to like how you suck and I know that is not what you mean. We will just have to find some way of convincing you that it doesn't have to suck." "Oh I know I'll have other times, it is just that we all got organised to surprise you and the others are okay and I miss out." Anna and Hailey were apologetic and began to sit up but Rosalee stopped them. "I don't mind you being able to do what you're doing." She softened her voice and looked around. "I find that it is as exciting to watch you and to think of what is going on under the table while people are still eating. I also want to see how you get out of here in open-toed sandals when your own toes are wet - not to mention how your pussies must smell. Roger and *I* can at least be sure of retaining our sense of decency!" "You *ARE* pissed you can't join in, aren't you!?" "Of course!" But Rosy grinned at Hailey. The bill was left with me, the waiter taking no notice of the two girls grinning at each other and occasionally at Rosalee. I counted out some notes from my wallet and added a little to the normal tip. It had been an excellent meal and I could afford it. "When you are ready ladies but there is no real hurry." "No we finished while you were getting the money out. Was it really that much?" "That wasn't bad. We had plenty to eat and I know the company alone was worth at least a quarter of that." When Anna told the others the amount they were upset. "Can you afford that?" "Do you want some money towards it? We weren't expecting you to spend that much on us." "I have a trust fund allowance I barely touch. It is not going to be a problem." "You shouldn't have to spend it on *US* though." "I didn't love. I spent it on myself. I indulged myself in an evening out with three beautiful ladies and now, if you are ready, I - like Rosalee - would like to see if you get out of the restaurant without raising any eyebrows for other than your excellent appearances." They stood as I moved each one's chair out. I was hamming it up after the fooling around with car doors but one older man dining with his wife commented to me as I passed. "I'm pleased to see that there are still some young men today who know how to treat a young lady with respect and young ladies who dress attractively when they go out." "Thank you and I will pass your comments on." I did but I translated them slightly to "he thought I was lucky to be sharing the company of three hot babes." The manager accepted the folder with my payment and checked again when I indicated I needed no change. "Tonight was a special night; you and your staff have made it perfect." "Thank you Mr Torrent. Please come again, with your lovely friends." I noticed his nostril flare but the manager wasn't about to make any comment that would even suggest something untoward had taken place when the customers were leaving without an actual incident. Rosalee shared the front again and this time I held her hand the whole way back to the motel. While strictly speaking we had no need to return there, if we didn't we would expect to collectively have to explain where the girls had changed into their dresses. It was a pity because their parents, in other circumstances, would have been proud of the young ladies I was escorting. Our intention was to change back into civies and nothing else. And there are fairies at the bottom of the garden! The three girls had dressed in the bathroom but they undressed in front of me in the bedroom. I was instructed to sit on the bed and just watch while each girl performed a strip tease that had nothing to do with pole dancing and every thing with proving just how sexy a girl undressing herself normally could be. Of course, when each girl removed skirt or dress she displayed the secret Rosalee had referred to and explained how Anna and Hailey could have bare pussies. At some stage all three had managed to buy a garter belt and stockings rather than pantyhose. Rosalee had her panties over the top but even those looked fantastic, while Anna and Hailey had their triangular bushes framed by the white belts and straps. I wasn't all that familiar with pantyhose or stockings. Most of the girls I had been with had been naked already or just wearing enough that I didn't need to worry. Even when they had been wearing pantyhose I had only been trying to reach inside what was then just an extra layer. They looked fantastic. Of course, having removed their dresses and Hailey her top in preparation for resuming more normal dress there was no need for them to remove their bras as well. In fact, their shoes probably would have been a more important item yet the three stood there in shoes that enhanced the appearance of their legs and stockings that made them even more interesting. I struggled to even lift my eyes to their bare breasts. "How long have we got?" I looked at the clock. It was 9:15 and we had to be home at 11:00. "Just over an hour." It was more like an hour and a half but I wanted to include some time to say goodnight politely and to make sure we were dressed properly. "I'll take a raincheck then." Anna knew she could expect a visit from me if she felt I could manage to meet whatever needs she still had. "Rosy, do you want to get ready while we strip Roger down?" "What, in the shower again?" Anna looked at me. "If we put a towel down so we don't get anything on the bed we should be okay." Rosalee used the bathroom while the others pulled me to my feet and prepared me for action. Once again, the assumption was that I would and could perform for them as required. Since I made no objection I guess the first assumption was correct - it certainly made a mockery of any suggestion that I was taking advantage of the girls. As to whether I *COULD* perform, well a little touch up and kisses to my prick soon had it standing to attention. My proposal - accepted - that the two of them kiss in front of me didn't hurt in the least. Rosy came out bare ass naked. She decided the stockings were fine for show but having to wash cum and her possibly coloured juices out of them without her mother knowing would not be worth the extra tease factor. She added them to her neatly folded dress. I didn't mind what Rosalee wore - she looked fine fully dressed or as she currently was. Fully dressed might have been disappointing just at that moment though. "I want you to make love to me like you did to Anna please Roger. So I can look at you the whole time." I kissed her and turned down the sheets so the towels were smooth. (I added a second towel in the belief that it was better to be safe than sorry in my ignorance of what to expect.) Rosalee lay back and looked up at me. "Are they going to keep that up all night?" I turned. Anna and Hailey were using their tongues to visibly spar with each other while hands roamed across the other's chest. I didn't doubt pussies would soon be next. "Quite likely. Want to watch?" Rosalee gave a loving smile. "It is better than the movie but maybe next time. Can I feel you in me now please?" A check revealed that Rosy was quite damp. I suspected perhaps a little personal foreplay had occurred and could only guess that Rosy had not wanted to hold up the show for the others. I positioned myself between Rosalee's legs and slid smoothly into her body. She was tight and warm and the friction on my prick delightful. "Wonderful, Sugar lips." I kissed her to show I thought her kisses were that sweet. "Just come as fast as you can; don't worry about me this time." "Rosalee, you understand that I love you?" "And I love you too Roger. That's why it doesn't matter." "Okay. I agree that sometimes it might be reasonable to offer one of us a quick release for whatever reason but *A* I don't need relief as such and *B* there *IS* time so if you don't mind I'd rather try to have us both finishing with the socks we aren't wearing blown off. What do you say?" "Yes please and I really, really love you." "Let's finish the night properly then." I began to slide in and out at a moderate pace. Everything was just right and I could nibble on Rosalee's breasts as well as kiss her. Her breathing soon began to speed up and I began to make my thrusts do the same. Soon we were thrashing away and barely noticed the others laying beside us. (Actually, at the time they did get on the bed, it was an unwelcome distraction.) Hailey was parallel to Rosalee; head up with head and toe to toe. Anna then covered her, in the opposite direction. While we reached the throes of *OUR* orgasmic releases, our friends were busy eating each other's pussy - they weren't going to be far behind. I came and while my cum was still bursting out to jolt Rosalee with the feel of me coming inside of her, she responded by squeezing down as her own orgasm flowed through her. I held her, staying inside her until her body insisted I be gone and mine could no longer insist I stay. Still I held her, and she, me. "I want that every night," she whispered, her voice not yet able to reach a normal volume. "I wish it was possible. One day perhaps." "But how do I get by until then?" There was no answer I could give; no way to say I would feel the hardship as well; not in a way that she would believe. I just held her tighter. We had been virtually ignoring the pair next to us. Our coming together and then being wrapped up in each other had meant a little agitated movement was nearly nothing but as the agitation assumed a level measurable on the Richter scale it was impossible not to give them our attention. "I never thought I would find two girls exciting to watch. It was always supposed to be so wrong." "Do you still feel that way Sugar?" "If I did then I'd have to feel guilty that I want to join in and I don't, so I guess it is the others who are wrong." "That has been my philosophy. I believe you have to be able to live with yourself first and, if you can, then other people's opinions of you don't matter so much. Of course, that was before I had people return my love." There was a cessation of noise and movement beside us. "Good?" I asked. "Mmm. Sorry we didn't wait for you but it wasn't fair to make Rosalee rush and you might have needed more time - now we can cuddle together - if you want." "Never believe that I am opposed to lying next to attractive women - and never feel you have to apologise for making love together. Okay?" Rosalee and I left for a short while and I checked the time when I returned. I still had a while before I could be considered ready or able no matter how willing I might otherwise be and so Hailey would have been unfairly short changed had she and Anna not taken matters into their own mouths. The two satiated ladies made room for me between them and we snuggled spoon-like together. Rosalee joined us and Anna leaned away from my back, inviting her to squeeze in between us. Once again, Anna proved she wanted to share our friends as much as she wanted me and having made love with Hailey she was taking time to get closer to Rosalee. I could feel Anna's hand against my back as she held Rosalee's breast. I could hear her nibbling Rosalee's neck and licking her ear as well; Rosalee liked it and hugged me tighter as a result. I personally was enjoying the scent of Hailey's hair in my face, with a hint of Anna off her cheeks. Her butt grinding into my crotch wasn't bad either. Little was said. I think we were all sad we couldn't continue a day that would be hard to repeat. Ignoring my imminent departure it would still be impossible to rent a motel every weekend. The girls must also have considered that I probably couldn't continue to act like a stud as I had been. I could manage each girl once, or one girl more than she probably wanted on an ongoing basis, but at least the girls were willing to take up the slack among themselves. But there I went again, looking at problems in a future I wasn't going to experience. I must have sighed. "What's up?" "I guess we've got to get going. It's too nice to want to move though." "We could just stay. You said we had the room for the night." "How long would you be grounded for?" "Forever," answered Rosalee. "If not longer," agreed Anna. "They would lock me in my room and throw away the key." Anna leaned over us and looked at Hailey. "What kind of window do you have?" "Huh?" "In-joke," I explained. "Anna and I use our windows to go visiting. We've adjusted them so we can get out without people knowing." "Sneaky." "That's what Roger thought he was - except I caught him." "Doesn't help *me* unless you have something that could make my sister stay asleep." Not on me, I thought. "Come on." I gave Hailey's rump a loving slap and then rubbed the spot with my hand. "I didn't say but you three looked absolutely gorgeous standing there in your stockings. It was arousing watching you undress and though I did give some indication of your appearance before then I doubt it was adequate." "Oh, I think your 'Wow!' was what we were hoping for." "Yeah, well, I appreciate the effort you all went to. I've said it before but I am terribly lucky and I don't deserve to be loved by any one of you. I am glad I get to love you all though." Of course that little speech earned me a three way hug with Anna pushing Rosalee on top of me so she could cuddle against my side. I had Rosalee's lips pressed to mine while Anna and Hailey kissed my cheeks. I felt lucky - and crushed. --- The girls sat together in the back trading kisses with Hailey since she had to get out first. I had left the key with the Motel Manager who asked if it had been a good wedding. I replied that we had been forced to attend but hadn't been included in the wedding reception. It explained the short time we had been away from our room and the ongoing absence of our "parents". As previously, I walked Hailey to her door, carrying her bag with both her soccer gear and her glad rags. Once again I got a passionate kiss goodnight and an instruction to tap on her window - just in case - any time I happened to be wandering by in the night. Once again, her parents hurried her farewell so the she wouldn't "create a scandal" when the neighbours noticed. She thanked me for a wonderful time and I said good night wondering if it was really good bye. Anna and Rosalee were lying across the back seat with Anna underneath. They seemed to be enjoying themselves so I just drove, taking the long route while watching the clock until Rosalee popped her head over the back of the seat. "Where are we?" "On the way to your house." She recognised the houses passing us. "But it's back that way." "I must have gotten lost. You ready to go home now?" "With the two of you? Or we could just keep driving. Oh, I suppose I have to. Thanks for the extra time though." 'You are most welcome Sugar." Anna pulled her back down. They had so little lime left tonight and neither wanted to waste it. "Three houses," I warned, slowing down. There was some hurried movement in the back seat but I'd parked in the shadows and Rosalee wasn't in any hurry to get out. She was still saying goodbye when I opened the door for her after getting her bag. "I really don't want to go," she complained. "I wish we could take you with us," I responded equally unhappily. "Good night Rosy. I love you and I'll call during the week. We'll organise something." Anna wasn't thrilled about leaving Rosalee behind; she would rather we went back and collected Hailey. Rosalee hugged Anna, told her she loved her too and climbed out of the car to cling to me as we walked to her door. "Are you going to fuck Anna when you get home?" "I'll probably call in to say goodnight but I don't know if we will do anything more." I didn't point out that I preferred the notion we made love together. "Well if you do, or even if you don't, can you tell her I'm home here thinking of the two of you like you were this afternoon." "Perhaps I should tell her you're imagining yourself in Hailey's place this evening?" Rosalee squeezed my body. "Mmm. That too. That's why I wish I could stay with you. We are all weird, aren't we?" "Superbly. Wonderful thought, isn't it?" "Mmm. I had a fantastic time, despite..." "Or perhaps because of? Look on the bright side, you did things you couldn't have otherwise." "And - well I'm sorry if it sounds yuck. I've still got you trapped inside me. You've got to go but I'll go to off to sleep knowing a little bit of you is still with me." "Not yuck. Weird maybe," I teased, "but remember you've got more than just a little bit of my heart with you all the time." We shared a kiss and Rosalee reached down to gently squeeze me. "Don't forget to tell Anna about me when you give her this." "I won't. I'm sure we'll both go to sleep thinking of you." "And Hailey." "What? Together?" I teased again. "And you expect us to actually be able to go to sleep." "Good night. No, come here!" Rosalee buried her tongue in my mouth. "You know you're my first true love - try to be my last as well please." I hugged her and she ran inside. I suspect she was crying. "What happened?" Anna had seen Rosalee pull me back. "Last minute declaration of love." "You are luckier than you deserve you know." "I am well aware of it. Triply blessed in fact." "What is going to happen to us? I mean today, last week, they were wonderful and so intense but how do we do it again? I started fooling around with you for a bit of fun because I was horny and no-one at school seemed to notice me. I think I'm addicted though. I want to fuck you *AND* Rosalee *AND* Hailey." "But no-one else? You don't find yourself looking and wondering?" "Yes I do, but I did that with boys before you came along. That didn't mean I was about to have sex with them. Now I look at everyone - it feels odd sometimes, especially when it is someone I've known for a while - but I don't really want to *DO* anything with them now I've got you three. If I didn't have Rosalee and Hailey I wouldn't look twice at other girls and now I've found out how good it is don't want anyone but Rosalee and Hailey." "True love?" I suggested. I didn't say Rosalee had used that same term. "I guess. I didn't love you at first though - now look at me." "I'm glad you changed your mind. Fooling around is fun. Knowing you love me as much as I love you is so much better." We were almost home. "But what are we going to do? You know we can't keep going like today." "I don't know. There has been a pretty heavy emphasis on sex so far, it won't hurt for us to be a bit more normal." "The bowling was normal, and dinner - no, dinner was superb!" "Before or after you and Hailey dug your toes in each other's pussy?" "Both of course. God, I can't believe we did that though." Anna was laughing as I pulled into the drive. "Anna?" "Yeah?" "If I forget - I love you Sweetheart." "Love you too dopey. I won't let you forget." Like me, Anna had a small bag. She hadn't taken her soccer gear with her so we needed to be circumspect. I stopped to say hello to Doug and Ma while Anna ducked behind me with both bags and a hurried "Bursting!" She ran up the stairs and I heard her open my door before heading along the corridor to her room and back to the bathroom. I told of our adventures bowling - it seemed so long ago! I indicated we had thought about a movie but hadn't bothered, just hanging out together until we decided to go to dinner. Doug was surprised when I mentioned the restaurant. "I thought you might have to be a bit dressier there." "I think we might have to if we go again but the manager seemed understanding. I think the girls charmed him anyway - he called them 'lovely ladies'." "And you liked the meal? We haven't been there before." "It was excellent Ma. You should go there. They have tender grilled octopus on skewers." "You ate octopus!?" "We all tried it." Anna came down the stairs. "I was just saying about the meal." "Oh it was lovely. We tried a bit of everything and it tasted so good. What were the little birds?" "Quail." "I liked those the best though the one you had first was nice too." "Moussaka." "It must have cost a bit," prompted Doug. "A bit," I admitted. Anna was standing beside me and I put my hand around her shoulders and drew her towards me. "I had good company though so it was worth it." Doug raised his eyebrows a little but Ma seemed to be accepting of my closeness with her daughter. She mustn't have said anything to Doug yet though. "Well I think I'm off to bed now." I didn't have to feign tiredness. "I'd like you to work tomorrow afternoon if you can Roger." I looked at Anna. We had intended to be together. "About what time?" "Two 'til five, maybe six but I don't expect we'll be busy enough for that." "I was going to get some exercise walking for a couple of hours if possible but that just means getting up a little earlier. If I leave at 9 I can be back by 12 so that's no problem at all.' "Can I go with you?" "I don't mind if it's okay with your parents." "Go!" said Ma before Doug could comment. "Dad? We were talking about what we wanted to do when we finished High School. You know I've been talking about a business course and I guess I should learn more about your business. Is it okay if I come to work with Roger and start learning what to do?" Doug looked back and forth between us. My cuddling arm (already dropped), the exercise together in the morning, and now spending time working together? "He's there to work." It was just too hard for Doug to say "There is to be no fooling around." "If you are there it's to work too. I don't want you distracting each other or the other staff unnecessarily." "We won't, I promise." He looked at me. "You want me to work - I'll work." "Okay then, I'll see how you go but if I think it's not practical, Anna will have to do her training at the other store." Ma had sat back just looking at the interaction between us. I don't doubt she saw I wasn't expecting Anna's proposal. I think she would have also realised I didn't plan to mess up while I was supposed to be at work. As we headed up the stairs I did hear her laugh though when Doug asked, "Do you think those two are getting too close?" I don't think it was to show she thought he was being ridiculous. Anna took me in her arms at the top of the stairs and kissed me. "When you can lover." I ran my hand over her head. "When I can Sweetheart." She went merrily down the corridor and I locked the door behind me before pulling my phone apart to insert a new chip. The screen lit up and I entered a PIN and then rang a number - one I had never called before and never would again. "Check?" The voice was soft but distinct. "Green, green, yellow." "Confirm green, green, yellow." I hung up. The first green meant the subject was where he was supposed to be and there was no known problem with the plan. The second green had five letters - it meant there were 5 primaries present. That was all of them so I didn't need any extra information on who was missing if that had been the case. Yellow had six letters - one more than the 5 primaries was present. It could be Julia or someone else. I could have asked for clarification but that may have compromised the transmission if it was being picked up. I didn't think it important. I removed an odd device from my tool box. It looked and could act like a multimeter but by removing the handles from a couple of screwdrivers and locking them into holes in the body I was able to plug it directly into the power socket in my room. I turned on the switch at the wall point and reset the unit to measure thousands of Ohms. A signal was sent over the AC carrier. It passed through filters and bypassed regulators to echo in thousands of homes. Within a second an answering signal caused the meter's needle to jump. I turned the unit to measure millions of Ohms and then milliamps. A new signal spread out and this time the answering twitch of the needle signalled something more ominous. In Kyra's room an apparently innocuous unit attached to her computer was responding to the signals. Self- contained, the computer didn't even have to be switched on. A problem would only arise if the power cord was disconnected or the wall switch turned off. Had the meter not registered the response I would have had to get to the vicinity of the Pringle home and use a directed radio signal to activate the unit. That would have been a pain, ruined any possibility of an alibi, and had less chance of working. Fortunately it was not necessary. The first task the unit had to perform was to broadcast a short range radio signal. This was simultaneously picked up by a number of units via a thin foil antenna that allowed a simple catch to be shifted just far enough to release a plastic spring. Each plastic spring pierced the plastic seal on a pressurised plastic vial. The gas released was quite potent but in itself safe. It spread from several points in each of the bedrooms of the principals - Adam and Beverley Pringle; Michelle Pringle, their almost 13 year old daughter; and Kyra and Mark Pringle, Adam's 17 year old twins and my class mates, friends and lovers. The gas was strong working but short-lived and acted by paralysing peripheral muscles and stupefying the "patient". *BECAUSE* it was short-lived, the unit on Kyra's computer had to send out it's second signal only twenty seconds after the first. Incendiary units appearing to be surge filters were triggered. They didn't contain the usual accelerants that the fire brigade would expect to see. I had put them around the house myself as I went to the bathroom or returned from driving my car around the lawn with Michelle, even after my "interview" with Adam Pringle himself. I selected sites where a fire could spread - next to drapes or furnishings. Shortly after my associates saw a third acknowledgement that the house was now on fire, albeit rather small ones at first, they would organise a power surge into the neighbourhood. It wouldn't coincide exactly with the fires starting at each "protected" power point but it would add confusion to the case. Small puddled blobs of plastic would also be the only clue about the gas dispensers and they were designed to only raise comments about even better houses being infected by pests. The flames would grow and spread. Smoke detectors would be unheard. Unheard both within the house because of the gas, and over the telephone lines that served to notify the alarm company because of some deliberately faulty wiring in a nearby house. My desired spike came on schedule - the link with my unit was severed as intervening safeguards tripped. Somewhere, in a house I was familiar with, hopefully sleeping people would inhale hot smoky gases and never wake up again. Those who may wake to the smell of smoke or the sound of bells would be confused and not register what the problem was before it was too late. If they did make sense, their bodies would barely allow them to roll out of bed and fall to the floor, fortunately too muddled to even feel fear. One person though may have stayed alert, may have escaped or tried to rescue the others. Fires in half a dozen rooms - upstairs and downstairs - would make getting out enough of a miracle. If someone did manage to reach one of the bedrooms, breathing the gas in the room would merely add yet another sleeper on the floor. I expected no rescues. I had done all I could and was now isolated from the Pringle household by the cover up incidents. I dismantled the multimeter, reassembled my screwdrivers, replaced my phone chip and went to have a shower. The job I had been called to perform should now be over. I would hear, probably, tomorrow and then I would find out which exit strategy was to be used. I had just murdered a family not so unlike those around me. --- It was a while before Ma and Doug went to bed and I heard her knock on Anna's door - supposedly to ask what time she wanted to be woken in the morning if she was going walking with me. I listened carefully and then quietly traversed the roof to Anna's room. After the day's adventures I didn't need sex and I was pretty sure Anna needed nothing more than to be held. I certainly wasn't a psychopath getting aroused from taking multiple lives. I had no regrets - not at present anyway - but I knew I would remember Kyra and Mark, may even grieve for them, but I didn't expect to feel remorse or guilt. Anna opened her window after my first single tap. She said nothing as I climbed through but simply held and kissed me. I had no passion arising from my job but I guess the sense that my time here was over brought out all my love for Anna. I had intended to only be there for her and to take comfort in her presence. Instead we were stoking each other's fires as if we could never have enough of one another. "Take me." Where? With me? I was confused. I wasn't used to Anna rolling out clichd romance novel phrases. "Make love to me now. Hard, fast. Fuck me." For some reason that seemed an ideal suggestion and I helped her to the floor. Anna had been playing with herself; remembering the day's events while waiting. She needed no preparation - wanted none. I lined myself up in her oozing juices, whispered "Rosy is thinking of this and us" and pushed slowly into her body. Covered, I thrust faster, punctuating each violent forward motion with a staccato sentence. "Rosalee - is - remem - bring - ev'ry - thing - you did - with me - and Hail - She wish - es she - was here - with us." "I want her here too!" I came but couldn't take Anna with me. From her reaction I don't think it was an issue but I crawled down and used my tongue. There was a faint taste of my cum mixed with her juices but I had orgasmed so many times that the volume was not significant. With added stimulation Anna went over the top as well. Not a great come but a happy one. Anna pulled me back over her, using me as a rather heavy quilt. I put my forearms down beside her and rested my head on her chest while she wrapped her arms around me. We slept. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Assassin Part: Chapter 6 of 27 Summary: Ass, sass and sin. A young assassin does more than befriend people when he tries to get close to his targets. Keywords: Mf-nosex Language: English Copyright: 2009 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* Roger Torrent was a nice young man living with his new foster-family. He wasn't the sort of person to be discovered creeping across the roof late at night. He wasn't the sort of person to seduce his foster-sister. He wasn't the sort of person to have gay sex with one twin while the sister fucked him. He wasn't a murderous assassin. But the person who was Roger Torrent for now, was. ********************************************************* It is said that the first casualty of battle is the battle plan itself. I didn't have any such catastrophes because I go in with an objective and a set of procedures to help me get closer to that goal. To get onto Mark and Kyra's horizon I set up no less than three different paths before making my first approach and accomplished that milestone swiftly and without undue consequences. However, in any situation where you use people like pawns you are apt to discover, like in Chess, that having moved them you find they've reached the eighth row and become queens - able to move in paths you weren't intending, able to go further than you wanted, and suddenly powerful enough to threaten the king. Anna was my first Queen; promoted by carelessness on my part and an unexpected attentiveness on hers. She didn't realise the power she held and I had successfully curbed that for the present at least. It wasn't that she had power over me, though I enjoyed her lustful demands while they didn't interfere with my duties. No, the power Anna held would manifest if she was careless about our extra-curricular activities. That would cause a variety of consequences that would severely curtail my freedom to work without interruption. The next pawn was Rosalee. --- Rosalee's mother had heard I'd accompanied Elsie to soccer so she called Elsie up and discussed me - though I wasn't supposed to know that; Anna overheard them. I think Rosalee would have been mortified. She was apparently reassured though as she dropped Rosalee off outside the pool hall where we had arranged to meet. "Mum, this is Roger. Roger, my mother." "Hello Roger." "Hello." "I'll be back at 10:30. Is that okay?" The way she said it made it obvious that it would be. It was what she was willing to allow on a first date for a sixteen year old and if the other sixteen year olds thought it ridiculous they didn't have to deal with her as their mother. I was sure that Rosalee and her mother had negotiated the time well before Rosalee was dropped off and I agreed to the restriction. As soon as the car was gone Rosalee grabbed my hand and giggled girlishly. "I've been thinking of you ever since we drove home." I wondered what I had let myself in for! We went inside and I contrasted her behaviour with Anna's as she sat and listened to me make a date with Hailey for the following night. I think she might have been anticipating watching Hailey bring Rosalee down a peg or two. Actually, once inside, Rosalee seemed much more mature. I guess it might have been nervousness earlier rather than excessively high spirits. I introduced her and we started out playing doubles against some of the others. She proved to have an adequate eye if no other great skill with a cue. Mark offered to show Rosalee how to improve her game and I bowed her away, deferring to the expert. He and she occupied one table for a while and I partnered Kyra for a game. It was natural enough for me to stand behind her and whisper strategies in her ear but if I had been overheard people would have found me making lewd suggestions instead. At the end I got Rosalee back and played her one-on-one. The tuition had helped, now she only needed practise - but at least she had an idea of what she was doing wrong. Afterwards we stood back and watched the others play. I was standing behind Rosalee and she wrapped my hands around her waist. We were out the way between the end wall of the room and a table. Rosalee chose the moment when the play was focussed at the holes down the other end of the table. She must have recalled the liberties we had taken in the car after soccer and decided I wasn't one to object if she misbehaved. A hand, nominally hanging down beside her, moved between our bodies and rubbed over my crotch. The faithless thing responded and she squeezed it. Well two could play that game and I made her shuffle forward a little bit so we were almost at the table. Now it was my hand that dropped to the hem of her not-so-long skirt and lifted it so I could rest my fingers against her knickers. I took it slowly, waiting for a "Don't!" - verbal or physical. It never came. Rosalee didn't mind me rubbing her up the *RIGHT* way at all. I nibbled at her ear and blew in it and on her neck. Matters got too much for her and she suggested a walk. Hand held hand as we excused ourselves and I only hoped my erection wasn't noticeable as such. It would have been an aid in the disguise I had proposed but that was in itself only a story and I could do without the stirring that would arise, and perhaps the harm that might occur to my relationship with Kyra if not Mark. Rosalee wasn't particularly looking for a dark corner - her only requirement was solitude and I believe even that might have been negotiable. "Don't you want to kiss me?" "No," I said to stir her. "Then what do you want to do to me?" The leer meant Rosalee trumped my bid. "I want to hold your body against mine while I kiss you." It was as innocuous a statement as I could manage. "And who is stopping you?" No-one! Rosalee was a messy kisser. Her saliva glands seemed to go into overdrive and though it didn't really matter that you swapped some spit when kissing, you didn't really want to drown in it. I took control and encouraged her to keep her tongue in *HER* mouth not mine. Of course then it seemed like *I* was excited by the events and she turned into a vacuum cleaner that tore at the very roots of my tongue. Did this girl have no experience - or merely no control? It might have been interesting to get a blowjob from her but I doubted there would be much other than that to her technique. As a matter of self-protection I attacked her neck instead. "Don't leave any marks - Mum would kill me!" I hadn't intended to but maybe now I should get careless. No. Inexperience and over-enthusiasm were no justification for revenge; even one so mild. Instead I rewarded her, stirring her emotions, stimulating her body. We found a darker corner and ignored the smell of stale urine - there are worse smells and I could bury my nose against the remains of a liberal splash of inexpensive perfume. Rosalee had not complained about my touching her through her panties. I turned her and pulled her back against me as I leaned against the wall. Now we could see any who came near while being only shadows ourselves if we remained still. I cupped a bra-coated breast and kissed Rosalee's neck from behind. She responded as Anna had done - though more vocally. "Shhh," I chided gently. "See what we can get away with without anyone finding out." That might have scared some girls into moving back inside but I think Rosalee might have been ready for that sort of thing before she had even left home. I slipped my free hand up the side of her skirt this time and then moved it across the waist band of her panties. With no pantyhose to restrict my movements it was simple to wrap my palm over and under her mound and pussy. Nicely wet! Much more than simply "damp" and her panties should be solidly starched when collected for the laundry. Let her discuss that with her mother if she wasn't smart enough to do something about them herself. Rosalee shifted her feet apart and her knees buckled a little. My hand on her breast changed its grip to better support her weight and with the extra area for my lower hand I went exploring. One finger checked the way was clear; two allowed me to support her weight from another spot. I scissored my fingers inside her and Rosalee squirmed. I brought them out and used the coating to rub down either side of her prominent hood. Rosalee gasped, "Yes, that's beautiful." I continued. With Anna I had tried to prolong her pleasure. With Rosalee I made no such attempt. It was an all out assault and I doubted that Rosalee would know any different. She came quickly and hard. Her body shook violently and still I worked her pussy. With the crook of my elbow under her armpit to keep her upright, I covered my mouth lightly with her palm. I wasn't trying to suffocate her, merely muffle the cries somewhat. I was *VERY* careful to keep away from her teeth. I sensed matters had peaked and slackened off the pace. A gentle warm down; caressing her outer lips, knuckling her muff, avoiding all the (now super-) sensitive spots. As Rosalee resumed control of her legs I slipped my hand out of her panties and hugged her. She turned around and I put up with the pain in my tongue. I moved a wisp of hair from beside her face and sneaked a sniff at my fingers. The scent was spicy fresh, not sweaty stale. It wouldn't be a punishment. I ended the kiss and pressed my fingers to her lips - just past the first knuckle so I offered a flat surface rather than the tips. Rosalee puckered and gave them a kiss. I moved them back across that little bow and scraped some of the coating where her tongue would lick it off her lips. Fingertips now pressed against the opening to her mouth and she opened, not really thinking of where they had been. I popped them in and even in the darkness could see Rosalee's eyes open wide. "Do you taste nice?" It was a far more personal question than she had ever had to answer and I could feel her gulp. Her tongue rubbed against the pads and forced my fingers against the roof of her mouth. She nodded with my fingers still in her mouth. "Will you get some juices for me to try too?" I was mean, taking advantage of her when she was willing to do almost anything - and perhaps actually anything - for me. Her hand left my back and worked inside both skirt and panties waist bands. "Get them coated all over - nice and deep," I commanded. Rosalee bent her knees again and had to wriggle her arm a little further in but I could tell when she accidentally brushed her clit and when she pushed her fingers up inside herself. "Wait!" I whispered urgently. "I think someone's coming. Don't move." Really mean! Rosalee couldn't see, couldn't know I was bluffing. She stood there with my fingers still in her mouth and hers in her cunt and her heart pounding not only from her release but now from the adrenalin that fear sent spreading through her bloodstream. Had her pussy contracted around her fingers? Did they rub inside her as I leaned her sideways to supposedly look past her? "I was mistaken, they went the other way." Rosalee had her hand out in an instant. Getting caught with a boy in the shadows would have earned her a lecture on being safe at all times. Getting caught with her hand down her own pants probably would have added an extended grounding. She raised her hand hesitantly and I copied her. Kissing the middle of the raised fingers, then swallowing them and cleaning them thoroughly with my tongue. My third distinct taste of pussy in a week - fortunately all quite enjoyable. "What about you?" "Not now. I think we'd better go inside before they wonder where we've gone." "But I won't have a chance later." "Perhaps we can go somewhere else next week." Asking for a second date while still on the first one could be considered a sign of insecurity - or extreme self-assuredness. To Rosalee it was a sign that I wasn't just fooling around - no love 'em and leave 'em apparently. If I'd wanted to get into her pants for my own pleasure I wouldn't have worried if the others were missing us. I certainly wouldn't have rejected her willingness to look after me. "Where?" "You know the town better than I do. Have a think about it and let me know in time for next Friday. Not too expensive but don't worry if it costs a bit. I haven't been spending my money on much recently - except for my car." "You have a car?" Visions of back seat romps swam past her eyes. "Not quite what you think." I held my hands apart, moving them around to show the dimensions. "It is remote controlled. A hobby of mine." "Oh!" Disappointment. "Let's see how you look. All tidy? No adjustments needed?" Rosalee considered and then did reach under to move some part of her panties. "Good. Come on then." I pressed my lips briefly to hers and took my place beside her with my arm around her waist. No-one gave any sign as we rejoined them but later I got secretive grins from the other guys and a raised eyebrow from Kyra. Even Mark grinned at how easily I had covered my homosexuality. It would surely only be a matter of time before he went on a date - with a girl! I imagined him trying to cope with Rosalee's suction. I'm sure she wouldn't be getting fingered by him. We didn't play any more eight ball; just standing together cosily watching the others until it was time to go outside satisfied us both. Rosalee made sure we were ready before her mother came. She put her arms around my neck and kissed me, thanking me for a W-O-N-D-E-R-F-U-L night. Could she have drawn out the word any longer? It was an insight into teenage girls and how two, at approximately the same age, could have vastly different levels of maturity. I was a bit sorry I'd gone as far as I had now. Rosalee might fall for me a bit harder than I had expected. I accepted a lift home and Rosalee sat close beside me in the back, telling her mother about the Parental Version of the evening. She thanked me for the night out and let her mother witness a very chaste kiss as she moved to the front seat. I hoped her mother had a cold or else that Rosalee's skirt had allowed the scent of her pussy to dissipate. Since no-one had turned to look in her direction or had sniffed I had to assume she was safe. When I went in and found Anna waiting up I wasn't so sure that *I* was. She wanted a report! ----- Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned! How the hell did I get myself into this shit? I haven't had this sort of problems before. Of course I hadn't used a foster-family with a horny sister as a long-term cover before. Generally I had the job finished within a week. I exaggerate a little though. Anna wasn't furious with me; I think "disappointed" better describes her state of mind. I had given her a rundown - on the strict understanding my kiss and tell would be between just we two. It didn't really matter if she didn't hold her tongue though. Being considered a sleaze by my peers wasn't going to matter and I could always convince Mark and Kyra that I now didn't have to worry about dating other girls as none were likely to give me the time of day. The ground rules established, I gave Anna a simple dot point review of the evening as we sat together in the kitchen - well away from her parents in the lounge. - We met outside the Pool Hall. - We played a few games. - Rosalee groped me as we stood watching so I did the same to her where we couldn't be seen. (Anna frowned) - We went outside where I found out how much better a kisser Anna is. (Frown fades to be replaced with a little smile) - We found a quiet spot where some tonsil hockey ended in my fingering her to a come. (Serious frown now) - I made Rosalee taste herself and then got her to finger herself and let me taste her fingers. - We went inside until her mother came and I got a couple more kisses from her and suggested she work out somewhere nice for next Friday night. There was quite a period of silence and Anna left to tell her parents she was going to bed. She gave me no clue that I was wanted in her room. It was an easy enough decision on my part though. I had behaved in a manner where it might be construed that I had a low regard for Anna and the services that she had performed for me. If I didn't go to her room it might be further considered that the matter was confirmed. If I did go to her room, Anna might reject me in which case *SHE* was rating my worth after I had lessened the insult. Or, hopefully, Anna would decide to forgive me - once again it being her decision not mine. I said my goodnights as well and advised Doug and Ma when they asked that my date had gone well and that Rosalee was a nice girl. Then I took a long hot shower (cold might have been better), wasting the water but enjoying the sharp needles turning my flesh lobster pink. It gave my foster-parents time to head into their own room. Anna's window was closed and she ignored my scratching on the glass. There was no light and she could have gone to sleep *OR*.... I tapped lightly three times. Still no activity. I tapped again, one every second, not stopping at three. If she *WAS* awake I was risking making her even more annoyed. It worked. The window slid up. "What do you want!?" "Always you, Sweetheart." "Don't sweetheart me! I'm angry with you." "Can I come in and hear why?" "Maybe you should stay out there and figure it out for yourself!" Still she moved away and didn't complain when I disconnected the screen mesh. Anna sat on the side of the bed and watched me climb into her room. There was enough light for me to see she hadn't been crying - a good sign. Glistening wet eyes would have indicated she was as upset as she pretended. "I guess you're unhappy I got into Rosalee's pants, or is it because I made her come?" "You said you'd only kiss!" Anna still had the good sense to whisper. Another good sign - a truly angry girl might not have been so concerned with the consequences. "I didn't go out intending any more. It was really as a result of not kissing her that it happened." "Not kissing? But you said you did kiss." "Come here; stand with me." "I don't know if I want to fool around with you." "You won't be. I'm going to be Rosalee and you're going to be me. I'm going to give you a lesson in what it is like to kiss another girl - or at least Rosalee." Anna stood and let me put her arms around me. Our heights weren't quite right for me to drape my arms around her neck - I certainly couldn't look up at her - but we maintained the pretence. I wet my lips - really wet them - and pressed them to Anna's. They had barely touched when I thrust my tongue into her mouth and began exploring the back of her teeth. I think Anna was suppressing a giggle - and it is not easy to giggle nor to suppress it while still maintaining a kiss. I retreated, the tip of my tongue tempting hers into my mouth where I turned on the suction until she indicated it was too much. "Sorry, but that's what it was like. Rosalee is a lovely girl but she needs to relax a little." "Show me the rest!" "What?" "I'll be Rosalee. Show *ME* what you did." I nodded and gave her a gentle kiss. "That was for Anna - now you're Rosalee." I turned her to face close to her bed and took my place behind her. She was nice to hold but, really, Rosalee had been too. I had made fun of her poorer points and betrayed what she would expect to be a confidence and she didn't deserve that. I was a sleaze I guess but I could live with that. "She reached back to hold me." My arms remained around Anna. She should know that I didn't initiate the intimacy. Anna put her hand on my penis - hard now as it had soon been then. I let her feel me for a few seconds before reaching down to rub my fingers lightly over the outside of her lips *through* her PJs. Had I only done it for so brief a time? Yes. I thought back; we hadn't wanted to be observed. I removed my hand and stepped back a little so Anna had to stop as well. "That's it?" "Worth making a fuss over?" Anna shook her head. "But she can't have come just from that." "That was all that happened inside." I took her hand and led her over to a suitable patch of wall. My back to it and hers to my chest I cuddled her and nibbled her neck. I could remember the scent of perfume. I couldn't forget the stink of urine. I could also enjoy the fact that Anna wasn't wearing a bra under her PJs. She was soft to hold and her nipple more prominent. Perhaps I hadn't let my fingers behave quite so freely with Rosalee. Artistic license! "Should I hold you again?" "You can; *SHE* didn't." "In the interests of accuracy then, I suppose I shouldn't." I still had a way to go before I was forgiven. "In the interests of accuracy we should be down by the side of the house looking out at the street and wondering if anyone can see us." "That might be fun." "It might be at that. You want to go down there now?" I was bluffing but Anna wasn't prepared to call. "No. Not tonight anyway but I'll think about it." "I bet you will," I thought. Anna was likely to use her fertile imagination while seeing how much fun her little toy could bring her. Actually I suspected that, with the frequency that I was making her come, the vibrator might be lying unused until I departed. "So what did you do next then?" Anna didn't mind the way I was making her neck tingle but I had already told her Rosalee got more than that. I slid my hand inside the waistband of Anna's PJs. Normally I would have played with her curls on the way down but tonight she was going to be Rosalee. There was no complaint as I cupped my hand around the curve of her body but when I pressed my fingers up inside her without any preliminaries Anna stiffened in my arms - most unlike Rosalee. When I scissored her she relaxed again. I guess it is hard to be tense when your most sensitive parts start sending "Oh goody!" messages to your brain. With my fingers all nicely gooey I gave Anna's clit hood the sort of two pronged attack that made Rosalee's knees weak. Here, with less clothing between us and the still air of the bedroom to keep the scent around, I was aroused by the obvious smell of Anna's building passion. I looked forward to repeating Rosalee's taste test. From the dampness under my fingers there would be plenty to taste. I dipped into the thickest flood and spread it around strumming the bump and massaging its sides until Anna needed my hand across her mouth as well. She came, squealing against my flesh and I flattened my other hand against her pussy until she calmed again. Anna turned of her own accord, put her arms around my neck and kissed me with all the love that recent satiation can bring. I was tempted to leave our pretending there but I couldn't resist. I put my fingers to Anna's mouth and, by the moonlight through the window, I watched her clean them. "Can I taste you now or would you rather be Anna and I'll eat you." "I'd love to be me but I don't think I could stand to have you eat me just yet." She put her hand between her legs, lifted the edge of her PJs and found her hole. The gooey coating I had felt on my fingers was now carried by hers and smeared over my lips. I tasted the sauce of her sexual passion and could only wish for more. "Roger?" "Yes Sweetheart?" "Tell me truly. Does Rosalee taste better than me?" Does my ass look fat? What do you think of my cooking? Do you have a problem with my mother staying over - for a month or so? Well I had sort of promised to be truthful, so... "You have tasted differently at different times and I've liked it each and every time. Rosalee was...well, enjoyable. I wouldn't mind tasting her again but if I had to choose between her then and you now, I'd much rather this," I kissed her hand, "than her and if it was a case of holding either of you then this is far nicer." I held her close. "You aren't just saying that are you?" "Sweetheart, never." "Well I guess I can't begrudge Rosalee that sort of pleasure - certainly not if you make sure I come like that as well. Will you do the same for Hailey?" "I only intend taking Hailey out. Now you know that doesn't mean nothing else *WILL* happen but, if I go out and come home without even a kiss, then I won't feel disappointed." "If you go out and come home without a kiss *I'LL* make sure you're anything but disappointed." "Oh, incentive!" I could feel Anna's face moving against my chest. I thought she might be smiling. "Of course, if anything more than a kiss does happen then I don't think you'll deserve to have me help *YOU* come." "So it's carrot *AND* the stick!" "Ah-huh. And I think I feel a headache coming on *NOW* so maybe you'll have to look after yourself instead tonight as well." "Sweetheart, I think I'll be asleep before my head lands on the pillow and you should get to bed too 'cause we've both got to be up early for soccer." "You don't think it will be safer for you to be away from Rosalee and Hailey when they start comparing notes?" "They might need someone there who at least knows why they are at each other's throats." "I'd know." "I meant someone who would try to keep them apart rather than urging them to further bloodshed." "You are brave!" "Stupid maybe." "Well there might have been a better plan." "Oh there was," I couldn't say. My plan had kept my love life very simple but Anna had changed that - though that wasn't her fault. But the plan *HAD* been replaced and now it served the purpose of a magician's sleight of hand. With people concentrating on a potentially violent love triangle in one direction, they missed seeing the more significant lovemaking going on under their noses and didn't even register the actual important goings on that involved Mark and Kyra. The plan had been replaced but that didn't mean the new one didn't have its good points as well. One of them was ready for her bed. --- "Hi Mrs Jamieson. Anna, Rosalee. Hello Roger." Hailey climbed into the car and sat on the opposite side of Anna to Rosalee who had been picked up first. I'd already greeted Rosalee, knocking at her front door to collect her and escaping only after a quick greeting to her mother. Anna had suggested things might be better managed if I stayed in the front this week. I had to agree. I told Ma that Rosalee was to find somewhere good for us to go on the following Friday and Rosalee seemed overjoyed that I was openly happy about taking her out. It also meant that that part of the conversation had been finished when Hailey got into the car and she was unaware that I had already booked Rosalee for another date. Similarly, though Hailey made a comment about going to the "Sharp Angle" that evening it meant nothing in particular to Rosalee even when I said that I'd heard it was good. At the sports field Rosalee suggested a kiss for luck and Anna impishly said if I was going to be the team's lucky mascot I should give them all a kiss for luck. There was a general agreement among the players and when they lined up for the ref to check their sprigs I was made to follow him down the line giving each one of our team - including Anna - a quick peck on the lips. Anna grinned. She had manoeuvred things so I had managed to openly kiss her in front of her mother. The other team and a couple of the girl's parents were confused but no fuss was made and the game began. The first half was uneventful until our team scored a heavily contested goal in the last ten minutes. That might not sound like a boring game, and it wasn't. I mean it was uneventful regards my two dates. At half time the girls got a brief talk from their coach. There wasn't much he could tell them; they were playing well. After they moved around in a huddle, keeping muscles limber while enjoying the rest. That was when the situation changed and the spectators saw two of our girls suddenly stop and stare at each other, each with a look of disbelief that we fortunately couldn't make out clearly from where we stood. They turned and looked at me and those around them who had been listening to the confrontation turned to copy them. It had been a mild confrontation as far as things went. Anna told me later that Rosalee had started going on about how great a date she had had the previous night. Hailey had started when Rosalee then dropped my name for the benefit of her team mates. It was then Rosalee's turn to hear of Hailey's date plans and Anna made no attempt to smooth things over even at the expense of the match. The Ref blew his whistle which curtailed the opportunity for further discussion - either between themselves or after they had trudged to where I stood down the sideline with Ma. Hailey was up forward, Rosalee in defence. It kept them apart through the rest of the game but that only gave them time to revise their opinion twenty times over and to refine exactly what they wanted to say. Of course it distracted them, resulting in repeated shouted instruction from the sideline and their team mates. They tried to concentrate and though each made mistakes none were serious enough to let the other team catch up. "Not as good as last week," commented Ma. I concentrated on looking where the ball wasn't. If Hailey was attacking she didn't have time to check on me so I looked at Rosalee. That calmed her a little. Then when the other team had possession and Rosalee was busy I could try convincing Hailey that I was more interested in her than the game. It was in the dying minutes of the game that I informed Ma that I was taking Hailey out that evening. I felt it only fair to warn her that the ride home might be interesting. "But you took Rosalee out!" "Yeah and I like her but I've only just arrived; I don't *KNOW* that many people. I don't want to get serious yet and figure I should see a few people." "Did you tell the girls that?" "Huh?" I played an ignorant 17 year old with aplomb. Ma at least appreciated it more than if I had appeared predatory. It fitted with her memories of Brent at that age and gave her a chance to pass on some motherly advice. "Don't you think it would have been polite of you to tell them you were going to be taking other girls out?" I put on my confused face. "But I haven't said they can't see other guys. And besides, Anna knew. She got their phone numbers for me." "I don't think it was Anna's place to tell them, do you?" "I guess not." "Well I think you'd better work out what to tell them because I suspect it's not me they are wanting to talk to." I looked back at the pitch. The ref had blown his whistle to end the game and our team had quite happily shaken the other team's hands before heading back to their coach. Well, all but two were heading in his direction. Should I run? Ma had discretely absented herself from my vicinity. "Well?" There wasn't any anger in Rosalee's voice - yet. "Well?" added Hailey with raised eyebrows. She wasn't the loser yet - she could either claim victor status or cancel our date and still come out on top. "I like you both. I don't know you well yet. I'd like to. Is that a problem?" My demeanour suggested I was puzzled over the reason for the discussion. They fortunately didn't query how, in that case, I so readily knew what the discussion was. "But you..." Rosalee stopped before she revealed too much before her rival. "I had a lovely evening. I thought you had fun too. I hope we can again but I am interested in getting to know other people. If you don't want to go out with me that is up to you but I was looking forward to next Friday." I turned to Hailey. "As I am looking forward to tonight." It became obvious that I had turned their indignation with me into a determination not to let the other girl get the better of them. "The game was good to watch but I think your coach is wondering where you've gotten to." Indeed the team was packing up and the three of us were the subject of interested observation by not only him, Ma and the team, but also by many of the parents and some of the other team as well. Half glaring at each other and ignoring me for now the two girls went where they should have gone in the first place and I returned to Ma's side. "Unscathed! I'm amazed." "They were reasonable." "Sixteen year old girls!?" She gave a scoffing laugh. "Well I still think I have dates for tonight and next Friday." "Stick your tongue out." "Huh?" "I want to see the silver coating." She got a rude gesture rather than a simple "say Ahh" and laughed again. Ma might have been relieved that there wasn't going to be bloodshed in the car going home but had to roll her eyes when Anna grabbed the front seat for herself. That meant I *HAD* to have the centre position if I was to avoid any show of preference. Rosalee and Hailey took the same seats as the previous week but Hailey must have been considering her situation as the first to get out. "Can you drop me off at Rosalee's today please Mrs Jamieson?" Rosalee started and glared daggers at her lost opportunity. While Ma said "Okay" with suppressed amusement, Rosalee took charge of my right hand and clenched it in hers on top of her thigh. Hailey noticed and gently entwined her fingers through mine on the left and placed them on *MY* thigh. Anna kept looking back over her shoulder at the three of us and I knew she hoped things would get even more strained. They did but not quite as soon as she might have wished. I was reasonably silent on that part of the trip but then so was the whole back seat. I let my right hand move slowly back and forth on Rosalee's thigh and lifted the left onto Hailey's. I dared not openly look but slight movements of my head suggested each girl was looking at where I held the other's hand. Had Ma not been there I know I would have teased them further. We passed the turn that normally would have taken us by Hailey's house before we circled the block and headed to Rosalee's. Rosalee muttered under her breath and I caught a glimpse of Hailey's "Ha-Ha!" smile. Hailey's satisfaction was short lived since when we pulled up at the house Rosalee got out and pulled me physically with her. "You can come over this afternoon if you like." Rosalee rubbed a hip against my groin. "Sorry, I can't." "Well in that case I'll call you to let you know about Friday." "That would be good." Conscious both of Ma in the front seat and her own parents possibly looking out the window, Rosalee dared not give me the sort of kiss to take the wind out of Hailey's sails but instead gave me one of the best I'd had from her. In trying to do less, Rosalee had achieved more. Rosalee took her bag from the boot and manoeuvred herself between Hailey and myself, stymieing any attempt by Hailey to kiss me as well. They thanked Ma and said goodbye to Anna. I sat in Rosalee's seat behind Anna and waved to the two girls standing apart on the sidewalk. They kept watch as we pulled away then Hailey picked up her bag and turned for home a block and a bit away. Rosalee said something to Hailey but I could see Hailey totally ignore whatever it was. We turned the corner and Anna burst out laughing. "We were all wondering if we'd have to rush over to save you or maybe pull *THEM* apart. Coach wanted to know what was going on and no-one would say. It was hilarious." "You sound too pleased Anna. This wasn't your doing was it?" "No Ma. Roger has gotten into trouble all by himself. I can't wait to hear what happens next though." Since Hailey's date had been Anna's idea she got to see my extended tongue this time but only poked her own out in reply. I wasn't worried how the two girls would deal with things; they would be ample cover regardless. Since I couldn't be in the community for several weeks and remain anonymous, the next best thing was to be so blatantly obvious that people only saw the show you put on for them. I did wonder if Ma would start to question why *HER* little girl wasn't good enough for me to ask out. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: David's New Life Part: Chapter 4 of 6 Universe: Doppelganger Summary: A young man follows his older sister's example to learn that lust and love can involve more than one other person. Keywords: mf, mff, oral, 1st Language: English Copyright: 2010 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* In recognition of the help the fifteen year old David had provided in Ainslie's rescue, she had agreed to accompany him to his school dance even though he was seventeen months her junior. As a result of a combination of his pleasant personality, her desire for companionship and a little alcohol Ainslie decided to make the reward more substantial. David had asked instead to be allowed to taste her pussy and Ainslie had so enjoyed the event her cries had woken her sister Sophie. Ainslie had convinced Sophie to let her classmate demonstrate his skills and they had been in the throes of a three-way tussle when David found they had awakened yet an even younger sister, Jill. He was concerned her age could cause him big trouble but fortunately she didn't try to get involved with him as well, grumpily remaining an observer while she learned to pleasure herself. The evening had turned out to be one he would - could! - never forget. ********************************************************* Sophie was furious with David. It had started Sunday night when one of her best friends called her specially to ask if it was true that she had fucked David Norton of all people. She had denied it of course, not least because she hadn't actually fucked him! Thinking back to some of the daydreams on Saturday she realised it *COULD* have happened if he'd only taken the trouble to come around. As more people contacted her then and the next day, Sophie tried to trace the story back to the person originating the news - no! - "gossip". Each time she only managed to ring a couple of people before one of the links broke each new chain without outright refusing to disclose their source. "I overheard it in the coffee lounge at the mall." Both girls knew that the person she heard it from would have been sitting next to her but that didn't matter - unless another path opened that was it. "I never said you *DID* do it, I just asked if people had heard what was being said." Trying to justify themselves didn't work either. Sophie had no doubts that the gossip *WAS* phrased in exactly that manner; it was damning either way. --- "Hey man. I heard you got lucky. Fucking two sisters, *WOW*!" "What, who told you *THAT*?" The gossip had passed on quickly and like most good stories had been embellished and retold to as many people as possible. Thus people heard it from many sources which meant it had to be true, didn't it? It also meant the people David questioned were quite truthful when they responded "It's all over" or "It's all out there". All David could do was to say it was bullshit and that someone was setting him up. Those who knew him, and indeed many that only knew of him, could believe that and the story died a little - but not before he had a call from an embittered Wayne wanting to arrange to beat David's head in for fucking *HIS* girlfriend. He took a lot more convincing. "I went out with Ainslie *NOT* Sophie. Sophie went to bed when I dropped Ainslie off. I said goodnight and went home - I didn't *FUCK* anyone!" He drew another breath and continued. "I don't know why people are saying I did. I don't know who started this story and I wish I did because I'd ask you to join me in beating *HIS* head in. Do you know of anyone who fancies Sophie and might be trying to break you up? Or maybe fancies you? No, I mean a *GIRL*! Sheesh!" --- Ainslie got one call before David phoned her. Surprisingly it was Leslie. "I just wanted to warn you. People are saying David slept with you and your sister on Friday night. I don't know how much, if any of it, is true - that's your business, the three of you - but you should know. Just remember he is only fifteen." "Thanks. He didn't sleep with anyone here, or fuck them if that's what they're really saying. I appreciate your call." "That's okay. Bye then." "Bye." She tried to call David but the phone was busy - he was trying to call her. He got through when he pressed redial. "Yes?" "Ainslie? It's David. We have to talk." "Looks like you've said a fair bit already." David protested his innocence and Ainslie eventually believed him. They talked over how they should respond and Ainslie told David she liked the approach he had taken with Sophie's boyfriend. "I especially like the idea of bashing someone's head. Now, have you told anyone, anyone at all, in the deepest secrecy or in the least detail about *ANYTHING* from Friday night?" David assured her "No". At first, doubting the girls themselves would say anything, David had wondered if Ainslie's house was still bugged. He couldn't say that to her of course but he did check with Katie and then Justin, not accepting their reassurances until he had seen the recovered bugs. The "gang" might not have been listening in but, had the bugs been functional, anyone nearby with a radio could have tuned in. That would have been a disturbing result - especially if he wasn't the only one making illicit tapes - but it would at least have cleared up the mystery. He and Ainslie rang off on the understanding each would continue to try and follow the gossip back and to keep the other informed. Ainslie would also see Sophie knew their agreed story - especially before Wayne caught up with her. --- Sophie broke the case. One of the people on her "trail" quite openly admitted her sister had told her "in secret". *SHE* had then passed it on with the same proviso and was most upset that her friend had passed it on again. She didn't seem aware of her own role. The younger sister was apparently a neighbour of Jill's extra-special-best-est-ever friend! "Oh Jill... can you come here please?" --- Jill didn't want to tell her friend she had lied at first; in fact it took considerable argument, blackmail and threat of physical harm to her self and finally her possessions, before she reluctantly agreed to her older sisters' demands. It wouldn't call back all the versions out there and it probably wouldn't get spread past the first one or two retellers since it didn't have the same "oomph" as the original. However it at least broke the link from someone who should know what she was talking about. And they could do their bit to add that slant to the story. --- Monday was a killer with all three issuing denials and singing from the same hymnal. Sophie was forced to treat David as a non-entity, and an embarrassing one at that, when she wanted to let him know she *HAD* liked what he did and *DID* like him, a little - maybe. Instead the only comment she risked making was to carefully apologise for suspecting him of boasting when she revealed Jill's part. Since he hadn't known he was in her doghouse, the apology was readily accepted as her assumption had been quite natural. There were those of course who flatly refused to accept the denial, those who felt that where there was smoke there was fire and that something must have gone on, and those who were happy to see Ainslie involved in another scandal - regardless of the fact that David and Sophie were also named. It was awkward for all three subjected to the scrutiny. Ainslie tended to be disparaged for going to the dance with someone a year behind her regardless of the truth of the rest of the alligations. It wasn't widespread and it wasn't overtly nasty but she didn't feel comfortable. David was feted even when he denied anything. The fact it was even alleged was considered great sport. What annoyed him most was he couldn't even tell a bowdlerised version to his mate Doug now since he couldn't risk even a slim chance of the real story getting out. Sophie "enjoyed" the widest variety of responses. Some were sincerely supportive, while trying to get "the real story". Some insisted they had never believed a word, while trying to get "the real story". Some asked "What was he like?", while trying to get "the real story". When Wayne eventually met up with her and insisted he was in the second group when she knew otherwise, Sophie was disappointed but thought he might still have some redeeming qualities until in a later conversation he said, "But if David Norton comes near you again he's dead!" Sophie, in a public cathartic release, told him where to go and what he could do with his willingness to listen to gossip. Everyone then expected her to turn to David but there seemed to be nothing special going on after all and the gossip died down before their parents got to hear it. It was then that things got interesting for David; but not before he had to face something possibly worse - his own sister! ----- Ainslie and Sophie had found their younger sister had been responsible for the gossip. Jill had had to retract her story and had been peeved when the others had treated *HER* as the big bad. She wanted her best friend at least to know the original story was right - admittedly she had downplayed her own part in it at the time - but she waited until Sophie had a couple of her own friends over as well. Jill told Paula to keep quiet and carefully listen to the conversation she had with her sister while Sophie thought there was just the two of them present. Then she picked a time when Sophie was briefly alone in the kitchen. "Why didn't you ask David over? If he could eat you and Ainslie, he should be able to satisfy your friends as well. Hell, I might even get a look in this time instead of only being allowed to watch." "Shut up. Is that why you blabbed? Because Ainslie wouldn't let you join in? You really were too young you know and still are. Now keep quiet before the others hear you or you'll be sorry." Jill looked much more frightened than Sophie had expected. "You'll be sorry" didn't normally carry much weight as threats went around their house. When a voice behind her said, "Er Sophie, can I take the drinks in for you?", Sophie understood why. "Sure. Here. I'll be there in a sec." Natalie left and Sophie turned to Jill. "Thanks!" Jill was meek and suddenly repentant, "Sorry." Sophie grabbed the snacks and returned to her room. Charlotte and Natalie were waiting. "Okay", said Natalie, "Close the door. I can understand why you had to keep it from even us but now - out with it; and *DON'T* spare any of the good bits!" Sophie gave in and explained as briefly as her friends would let her how she had interrupted David and her sister and how she had let herself be persuaded to let him eat her in turn. Of course, that brought on all sorts of questions. "Was it good?" "It was marvellous." "And what did he want?" "Nothing. I didn't have to do anything for him. No, *REALLY*!" Sophie hadn't personally witnessed her sister blowing him though she had heard Ainslie's conversation with Jill at the time. She personally had certainly not returned the "favour" and didn't think it was her place to let others know her big sister was a cock-sucker. "So you didn't get to fuck him?" "*NO*!" "What about your sister? Did she?" "No." "I don't think I'd want *MY* sister in the room with me when I was fooling around." "I was half asleep when we started and it just seemed safer with her there." Sophie was trying to justify herself, cursing once again her little sister's mouth. --- Jill had taken the hidden Paula back to her own room. "See I *WASN'T* making it up - and I never said they actually fucked him - but don't say anything to anyone this time. I think Sophie's ready to kill me now." "But they actually let you watch? Wow!" "I even got to hold his prick!" "I wish I'd been there. I don't get to find out anything neat." "Well there was one other thing I found out that I can show you but you really, *REALLY* have to promise not to say anything." Of course that made it impossible for the young Paula to not give her word. "Okay. Lie back here on my bed and lift your bum - I need to take your knickers off." "*WHAT*?" "Trust me. You're going to *LOVE* this." Jill had been disappointed David wouldn't eat her. Finger-fucking Ainslie hadn't been a bad alternative and Paula should be willing to return the pleasure once Jill had fingered her to an orgasm. After that ... - Jill never did get around to finding out what David was like. By the time she was old enough to be considered eligible, she and Paula had perfected their own technique. But that, and Ainslie's discovery of them in bed together, is another story. --- Sophie had come to a decision - the only way for her to avoid being stigmatised was to no longer be the only one of her group who had had her pussy eaten. Once it was commonplace, the worst that could be said for her was that she had been first, and *IF* it was commonplace maybe she would get to experience the wonderful feeling far more often. Since she wasn't aware of anyone else offering that service she would have to enlist David's support. The plan suited her outlook on life; she had always been a trendsetter, hadn't she? Still she couldn't invite all her friends to her house; one or two were okay, they accepted her home life was distinct from her social life and there were far more important things to look down on a person for than a periodically drunken father. Fortunately Natalie was willing to host a party even though she wasn't party to Sophie's nefarious plans. She had no objection to letting Sophie include David on the guest list; Wayne had been specifically excluded so maybe Sophie was interested in having him for a boyfriend after all - this was one way Natalie could see how things really were between them. --- Sophie caught up with David between classes. "Hi David." "Oh. Hi Sophie. How are you?" "Fine. There's going to be a get together Saturday at Nats. I was hoping you'd like to come." "I would but I have already asked Doug to come over to my place. Sorry." "Why don't you bring him with you. Nat won't mind." "You're sure?" "Yeah." "I'll ask him then. That would be good." He was a little shy. "I'd like to see more of you." Sophie, finally relaxed with him now she had a way out of her messy situation, answered before turning to go. "I didn't think there was much more to see. 'Til Saturday then - 6 to 6:30 for a barbecue until late." When asked, Doug had no objections at all about expanding his almost non-existent social life. ----- "Come on in. Hi David, Doug. Go on through." Natalie wasn't sure how Doug fitted in but she had no objection to him being there if he didn't go off on a tangent. Still, since he was more interested in maths than she was, it was a phrase he would have been more inclined to use - and *THAT* was the sort of observation she was hoping to avoid. The boys went through to Nat's family room - a large lounge area with a small pool table and an imitation antique juke box that allowed them to select songs from a range of reasonably recent CDs - it even had a karaoke option that was to feature later in the night. There were a few others already there. Sophie, who looked rather pleased that David had turned up at last - which made him warm inside and a little stiff as well; Olivia with Josh in possessive proximity; Lauren with Sam attempting a similar stance, but who was being ignored by Lauren in the main; Charlotte and Megan and Ethan, unattached and in control of the pool table for the moment; and their hostess Natalie. "Good. We want a fourth", Megan addressed the new arrivals, "None of these pikers want to play yet. Do either of you two play 8 ball?" David pointed to Doug; he was the better of the two. Doug conceded and quite happily chose a cue; he was partnered with Megan. Sophie indicated the seat next to her and David sat down. "Ben's on his way but has to pick up Helen as well as Emily." David knew all the others and was made welcome. He mentally ran a head count; fourteen with eight girls, reasonable odds for a young man. Ben arrived with his arm around Emily and Helen followed them into the room; David and Sam replaced Megan and Charlotte at the table and there was a little eating and drinking (of the non- alcoholic sort) and considerably more music at a volume guaranteed to keep Nat's parents away. Bethany and Crystal turned up together and finally Roger and Will completed the guest list. It had grown to eighteen but there were still two girls surplus which increased the unattached boys chances. With so many, there was insufficient room in the lounge for them all and people drifted around and out as the mood suited them. Some sat on the garden lounges, some stood and chatted while they watched the cook. People mingled, sharing a conversation for a while then, as others joined in, moving off to talk to another small group of their friends. Sophie took Charlotte to one side. "Now's your chance if you want. I can make sure you get some privacy if you want to find out what David is really like." "What?!" "Did you or did you not say you wished you had been in my shoes the other day?" "Well yes, but..." "No buts. Ignoring the fact that I wasn't actually wearing them at the time, *NOW* is your chance. You can disappear for 15-20 minutes and people will think you're somewhere else. No-one will notice but if you leave it any longer the barbecue will be ready. Go and wash up and then go into Nat's room. I'll send David along. You might want to have your knickers off ready." "You're not setting me up are you?" "Only in the nicest possible way. Listen, if you're not going to get in there let me know and I'll have another turn." "Well..." Charlotte had wished she could have found out what David's tongue felt like on her pussy, and still did. "Okay - but if this is a trick you are so much dead meat!" "No trick. I promise." Charlotte headed for the bathroom and quickly pissed then made a special effort to freshen up; the last thing she wanted, well high on the list, was for David to refuse to eat her because she wasn't clean enough. She checked no-one was watching and ducked into her friend's bedroom, turning on the light and checking the wardrobe for anyone waiting to catch her. She debated leaving the light on but decide the semi-darkness of dusk would be more reassuring. Firstly it would preserve her sense of decency, however fragile that might be and it would hide her from any web cams that might be present - she'd seen American Pie and had no doubts that one of those at the party could set up something like that - David and Douglas topping the list of likely suspects. That made her suddenly suspicious of Doug's presence at the party, he hadn't been invited to their previous soirees. She was about to leave when the doorknob turned and David was there. "Charlotte?" "Damn the cameras", she decided, "this might be my only chance for ages. Sophie had better be sincere about this though!" --- Sophie had left Charlotte and sidled up to David as he watched the current 8 ball game. "Got a minute?" She slipped her arm through his. What red-blooded male could say "No"? She led him to a quiet corner where they couldn't be overheard. Actually it was close to the jukebox speakers and Sophie had to lean right next to his ear so he could hear; her breath tickled. "Did you like it the other night?" David nodded, rather energetically, that being easier than trying to speak over the din. It also made it hard for others to eavesdrop. "Would you like to do it again?" This time David took advantage of the proximity of her head; he turned and gave her a simple kiss on the lips. That and his subsequent smile should have been sufficient answer. Sophie's next question threw him a little though. "What do you think of Charlotte?" David nodded and gave Sophie a thumbs up. "She's waiting for you now." David paused then pointed at himself and then Sophie. "Maybe." David got gamer. He pointed at Sophie, away in the general direction of wherever Charlotte was and then at himself. He held up three fingers and raised his eyebrows. Sophie smiled and mouthed another "Maybe", then she leaned in and kissed his cheek before telling him, "She's in Nat's bedroom, second past the bathroom. I'll see you when you've finished. With a shake of his head to indicate he couldn't believe she was setting this all up, David left with another grin. Doug, busy lining up for his next shot noticed David leave the room but thought it was merely a call of nature. No-one else even saw that much; it was an advantage of having so many people around that Sophie was well aware of. --- "Charlotte?" "Come in and leave the light off." She moved to intercept him in the sudden darkness as the door closed. It was light enough to see where he was but little else. David's hands rested on Charlotte's arms, sliding up and down her bare skin as he tried to work out what to do first. "You do want this?" David's earlier bravado had diminished somewhat; he was fearful of having her suddenly screaming "Rape". He didn't think it likely but what Sophie had led Charlotte to expect might be quite different from his understanding. "I would like you to eat my pussy please." Charlotte couldn't believe she had come right out and said it; was this when everyone jumped out and called her a slut? "I would like to do that too." David's hands continued up over Charlotte's shoulders to cup her jaw while he leaned in to kiss her. Their lips brushed against one another and then they nibbled. Passions gently built and soon their tongues were involved, just the tips as they got more comfortable and then with more vigour. David's hands slid behind Charlotte's head and her back, one holding her mouth to his while the other journeyed southward. He remembered a tip and moved his mouth across her cheek with a series of little pecks until he could kiss the side of her neck. "No marks please." Charlotte knew her parents would raise both an unbelievable fuss and an inconvenient stream of questions if she came home with a hickey. The others at the party would be just as likely to stir her up which was, perhaps, even more daunting considering David's recent reputed behaviour. David was caressing Charlotte's butt with one hand now, the other in the middle of her back to keep her close while he continued to massage her neck with his mouth. Charlotte was warming to his touch - it was time. David straightened and found her mouth with his. He pressed their lips firmly together as his hands met in the middle of her butt before sliding around to hold her hips. He pulled her body against his own and Charlotte could feel his arousal pressing against her mound. It was a little frightening for her to suddenly realise she was similarly aroused; her body yearning for an activity she was not yet psyched up for. She realised how easily she could end up pinned under his thrusting body and half wished they were somewhere where that might have been an option. She felt David's thumbs incise a line over her hips as they trailed down her skirt. He reached the hem and as his fingertips slid under the edge it was her hands that held his mouth against hers and her tongue that sought his. David had wanted to be reassuring, to take things slowly so that Charlotte had every opportunity to say no if she wished, and every opportunity for her anticipation to build. Her responses gave him encouragement at every step. The skirt had been raised to her waist and David's hands once again changed direction. Again his thumbs pressed against her flesh as they slipped inside the elastic waistband. Charlotte hadn't removed her underwear as Sophie had instructed, feeling that left her more vulnerable if it had been a hoax. Now both she and David were glad she still wore them as the slow striptease was exciting for both. David's hands were outstretched and there was air if not daylight between Charlotte's pussy and the soft doubled gusset. The smell of her sex became more noticeable in the still room. David gave her one last kiss, for now, and Charlotte followed his mouth for a second, bending her neck as he bent his knee. He planted a smooching kiss over the approximate site of her nipple - perhaps he would find out how close one day - before resting his cheek against her belly as he removed her underwear from one foot and then the other. "I'll look after these in case we have to leave in a hurry. Don't worry, you'll get them back." Charlotte thought it amusing he would thing that *THAT* would be her number one concern at the moment. Her pussy was damp if not dripping, she was standing half-naked in her friend's bedroom - with a door that didn't lock, over a dozen friends and two parents in the house and a boy leaning against her who was about to stick his tongue up her cunt. Yes, it would really be important to her to get those knickers back. Charlotte was eager to get things underway; she was ready and the longer they stayed in there, the more likely they were to be interrupted. She offered no resistance when he eased her back a step and then sat her on the bed. Indeed, she spread her legs wide, offering herself to him though he could only tell by touch, the dark patch of hair barely noticeable on a body that was mainly shadows. Charlotte hadn't viewed herself as being on offer to David though. This was to be a limited opportunity for him to show her what he could do. That had changed slightly once he had started and she couldn't be sure how she might feel afterwards. David started by sliding his palms up Charlotte's smooth thighs, his thumbs lightly pressing into her flesh as a tactile indication of the approach towards her unprotected pussy. He could smell her excitement and he wanted to work with her so that this would be a memorable time. *HE* certainly wanted to remember it. His fingertips were touching her now; she trembled. "Why was that?" he wondered. "My fingers aren't cold." Her pussy was warm though and he made one hand rise up and over the hair covered mound, his fingers spreading to match the natural fan shape. The heel of his palm ground across her clit; the pressure spread over clit and lips and leg so it wasn't too intense. Still she moaned with pleasure. It was almost pigeon-like, a flutter but with a deeper tone, almost masculine; quiet enough to preserve their privacy, loud enough for her to tell him he was starting off on the right track. His other hand curled leaving two lone fingers; fingers that rubbed up one side along the crease where leg met torso and down its mate. He teased, moving as Charlotte moved to try to make better contact; he knew it must have infuriated her. With his mouth watering David decided to infuriate Charlotte further. He kissed her left leg, moving his arm under it in preparation for later. The first kiss landed about half way between knee and paradise. The second split that distance evenly. The third, with a little hint of tongue, travelled along the last flesh that could still be called leg. His breath stirred the hair over unseen puffy lips, giving Charlotte goose bumps as the skin drew back and each follicle stood proudly - as proudly as his erection that even then strained to get out of his pants. David skipped the centre of attention and kissed his way down Charlotte's right thigh, each kiss doubling the distance from his eventual target. David moved back and found a soft spot, fleshy yet hidden in the centre of her right thigh. He planted a kiss, a kiss that drew her flesh into his mouth, the pressure building. Charlotte had been anxious to avoid a hickey on her neck, the love bite adjacent to her pussy where even she had trouble seeing it was instead to give her perverse pleasure. But as a reward for her patience, David's next kiss was centred over the entrance to her cunt. It breached the fleshy doors and released the sweetest tasting fluids he had experienced in his short but extensive and exhausting apprenticeship. His tongue went deep, a fat wet wriggling worm invading her body and Charlotte answered him with a sound that defied spelling. It involved so many grunting aspirants as her throat convulsed it could have been some alien language or, not surprisingly, of some beast in rut. David's tongue, now it had made contact, was the gentlest, roughest, sweetest, nastiest, most vicious loving thing Charlotte had ever felt and she mentally cursed Sophie for ever lying about not having felt its touch. She could have been here, anywhere!, with him, *DAYS* ago! She came while he was still exploring inside her; she came again as he sucked her lips into his mouth and gently bit down on their sensitive softness. she thought she must have come again as the long sweeping pass ran from deep inside the entrance of her cunt up into her furry mound itself with nose and then chin pressing against her in contrast to the tongue's softness. Nat's pillow had a circle of wetness where Charlotte's saliva had soaked in; she had covered her face, biting deeply into the foam to stifle the screams, screams that had still sounded loud and shrill in David's ears. He had held on as her body bucked and her hips had twisted, rightly divining that she would have let him know if she wished him to stop rather than that she was simply trying to avoid feelings too strong to take, yet too nice to end. The pillow lifted and Charlotte's voice weakly sobbed, "Enough!". David rested, his cheek on her thigh as he had been with Sophie only a couple of weeks earlier. Charlotte's scent filled not only his nostrils but also the room, a fact noticed by another as well. "Was it everything I promised Lottie?" Charlotte almost broke David's neck then and there. ----- Sophie had positioned herself where she could keep an eye on the door of Natalie's room. It had been an easy task as no-one had been drinking enough to have them lining up for the bathroom where they might have been tempted to check on strange noises. No-one else had attempted to use her room for a little one-on-one either; the two and a half relationships present at the party weren't as advanced in that respect as the very casual case of David and Sophie, and now Charlotte. Her one interception had been of Natalie herself and that had been a mistake. Nat had only been going to wash the grease off her hands after helping her father shift the barbecue away from some ferns. She had left the bathroom door open as she washed and Sophie stood in the doorway where she could talk to Nat while being aware if anyone approached. "I've arranged some special entertainment for you if you want." "What?" "What were you and Charlotte talking about with me earlier?" Natalie thought. "David? *YOU'VE GOT DAVID TO AGREE*!" "Shush!" Sophie looked around. No-one was paying any attention. Nat had been the one most interested in the gritty details when Sophie had related her story. she had also been the biggest wimp - unable even to show David she was interested when he had turned up that evening nor to ask outright if Sophie would act as a go between for her. Now she was almost wetting herself with excitement. "He's in your room now - I hope you don't mind - He should be almost finished with Charlotte and you can slip in next if you want." Natalie wailed. "I can't. I had to wash up to help serve dinner. If I disappear now my parents will notice." She looked downcast, her hopes fading fast. "Okay, well how about we swap. I'll go in next and when I come out you can have your turn." Natalie brightened up immediately. She gave Sophie a hug and left to do her chores. Sophie locked the door and took the opportunity to freshen herself up. --- Back in the corridor Sophie checked once again that no- one was watching. Ear to the door she could just hear some muffled sounds. She drummed her fingers lightly across the door hoping David at least would realise it was her then quickly and quietly entered the room. It was dark and all she saw as she entered were Charlotte's legs surrounding David's head. Charlotte herself had her face covered with Natalie's pillow and her eyes screwed up tight as David adequately demonstrated his abilities; David, with nothing to see, had closed his eyes - though not as tightly - and his ears were covered by the warmest, and sexiest, earmuffs he had ever worn. Neither had heard Sophie's knock nor detected the brief burst of light. Sophie just stood in the room, a silent witness, pleased that David had once again proven his worth. Charlotte's body could be heard thrashing about though Sophie had trouble making her out. She seemed to go quiet and there was a rustling sound. "Enough!" Weak and almost pleading. Charlotte sounded exhausted but David could have only been in there with her for ten to fifteen minutes. Sophie decided it must have been a very energetic quarter hour! Sophie spoke out of the darkness. "Was it everything I promised Lottie?" "*YAAHH*!" "*GURKH*!" One was Charlotte; the other David, his neck nearly snapped by Charlotte's sudden movement. "How long have you been there?" "I just came in - I did knock but it seems you were too busy to notice." David cursed silently - was he *ALWAYS* going to get interrupted? Sophie reached over and flicked on the light switch. It was unintentionally cruel really; Charlotte's eyes were looking directly at the globe and her pupils were wide from twenty minutes of darkness. David fared a little better, squirming as he looked back down at Charlotte's now visible pussy. It looked so cute! He gave it a little kiss. "David!" Charlotte realised her state - not only could he see everything she had to show but Sophie was able to see it, and his actions, quite clearly as well. "Turn off the light Sophie!" Though they had changed together many times in the past it was a much different thing to be emulating a tortoise in distress. "Please let her leave it on. You have the nicest pussy I've seen. It seems perfect. Look Sophie, Charlotte's got the sweetest little clit - it's like a mountain." Charlotte didn't like being put on show despite the compliments. Sophie though, instead of turning out the light as requested, had knelt beside David and had rested her hand on Charlotte's bare leg so she could see what David meant. She had survived her sister witnessing her nudity and passion; she was sure Charlotte would too. "Oh it is nice. Mine's fairly flat, nothing like yours." David had personally seen how much his sister's friends enjoyed each other and they were mainly girls. He like the idea of copying them - and may have made a start that very night. Perhaps he could get to use the basement on alternate weekends with a general get together on public holidays. He doubted the girls, of either group, would share his enthusiasm but he could dream and at least make an effort. "If you put your fingers here and here you can feel how Charlotte gets hard. Sorry Charlotte. Sophie, remember when you were a bit dry? I've cleaned up most of the juices, you'll have to get some more to coat your fingers." Charlotte was letting them touch her without complaint now. David had been caressing her thigh and nothing bad was happening - a little discomfort but that had stopped when she had flinched. David was rubbing his finger near the rear edge of her opening and when he found moisture still present he spread his fingers V-like to part her lips. Even that touch felt nice to her. "Dip your fingers in there. You can go deeper, don't be afraid." David was getting harder watching the sight. Firstly he could see the pinkness of Charlotte's ruffled interior then, as Sophie removed her fingers, the darkness of the cavity was also exposed. He was amazed, the opening looked far too small to fit his prick in. "Why don't you sit here, it's easier to reach in." It probably wasn't but David wanted to see just how far he could lead them on. Charlotte let him ease her legs off his shoulders and to then slip them around Sophie's. There was enough room for Sophie to slip her hand up between her body and the bed and to plant a damp fingertip either side of the exposed clitoris. "Just slowly work your fingers back and forth, not too close at first. Just watch as you rub. See the tip. Oh! It's actually growing. Did you see that? Charlotte you are so amazing." David sat on the bed next to her and put his hand on her arm. He had felt the shape of her body change under his tongue but humans are highly visual beings and seeing Charlotte's response only increased his own ardour. "Sophie, your fingers are drying. Just rub them over your tongue and coat them with a little saliva. That should do the trick." It certainly tricked Sophie. Her fingers were deep in her mouth and the taste hit well before she noticed his grin. "She does taste nice, doesn't she? Now you've tried it why don't you have a turn? I think Charlotte could stand to come one more time if you take it slowly." Charlotte wasn't so sure she could stand it but she was eager enough to continue the pleasurable experience. That hadn't been Sophie's intention when she had planned the evening; her friend *DID* smell and taste attractive though - it was tempting! "Tell you what. You drop your knickers and you can sit on my face while you eat Charlotte. Okay?" That sounded like an offer too good to refuse. Charlotte found her legs lifted as Sophie straightened, then tossed from side to side as Sophie moved her knickers past one knee and then the other. "I'd better look after those too!" The positioning was more awkward than it had first sounded. David's shoulders were too wide for Sophie to simply spread her knees; instead her shins rested over the top of his arms and, because she was then forced forward, she had, with David, to wriggle further away from the bed. Fortunately the result was David now had room to breathe and Sophie's face had nowhere else to go but directly into Charlotte's puss. Her first lick was very tentative; Charlotte wasn't too certain what Sophie had gotten them both into either. She could imagine (in graphic detail) this being the time someone would open the door and she would just die. If it hadn't felt so nice before; if she didn't want more... well - she would have just left! "In fact", she decided to herself, "I'll just find out what Sophie's mouth is like - purely as a comparison - and then it's all over and I'm back to the party." She wasn't even trying to fool herself. Charlotte knew if Sophie was even half as good as David had been she would be in here until the party ended and Nat kicked them all out so she could go to bed. Sophie had been wondering why she had acquiesced so readily until David started to poke the tip of his tongue *UP* into her pussy. She knew she had found her sister's naked body a turn on when David had eaten *HER* for the first time - a fact she only appreciated in her own room afterwards when her fingers traced the route his tongue had followed. In reliving the episode Sophie had found that she had unconsciously noted exquisite little details about big sister Ainslie that Ainslie might have been horrified to hear. Things like the way her aureoles were all crinkly; like the neat hamburger buns that had appeared when she had bent over while facing away from the bed. Why was Ainslie so hung up about other girls anyway? Sophie decided then and there that she certainly wasn't. If this was her one and only time to experiment she was going to do it properly! David hadn't lied about how tasty Charlotte was, though his comments about the beauty of her pussy made Sophie wonder what he thought of her own. ----- In David's house, his sister Katie was on her bed with her boyfriend Justin, alternating between sucking on his prick and licking his vagina (Tina being present with them), while he would take a occasional loving swipe across her pussy with his own tongue. "I wonder how David's getting on at the party." Justin reviewed his twin sister's experiences from the night before when she had "tutored" both David *AND* Doug, getting eaten and fucked by them both. He knew just what it was like to have David's tongue doing what Katie's was - and more - without having been there in person. His unusual outlook made it possible for him to accept the knowledge of being on the penetrated side of a good fucking without any qualms. "I'm sure he will be able to cope if things start getting him down." ----- David was down alright; pinned to the mat for far longer than a count of ten, he was still managing to put up a good fight. In a room heavily burdened with the scent of lust fulfilled, three tongues were wagging. Charlotte's however only varied between filling the gap behind her top lip as she pressed it against her teeth and running it over the outside of the same lip, usually before she gripped Sophie's head a little harder. It really was getting too much for her! "Sofe. Stop please. No! I can't take any more. - Ta. Lovely." "Happy Lottie?" "Marvellous." Sophie playfully twisted her fingers through her friend's curls as David continued to make her feel marvellous too. Charlotte did something similar to Sophie but she had longer hair to play with, albeit far less curly. Charlotte began to giggle in the euphoria of having come, what, four times, or was it five? She had never come more than once before and was hooked. Her hand came a distant third! David had surpassed all expectations; Sophie had been the more than adequate newcomer whose valiant challenge hadn't been quite good enough to beat the Champ but practice could change that and Charlotte was willing to hold a rematch at any time - well anytime but right then. Sophie was gripping Charlotte's thighs more tightly now - David was having an effect on her, but it could be better. "Let me get up on the bed now. My legs are cramping." David didn't mind a change; he was being flooded and had to continually swallow to clear his mouth. Sophie lay down next to her friend. Charlotte curled up and snuggled in against her, her head on Sophie's chest. David went back to work and it was Sophie's turn to hold Charlotte's head tightly while her other arm pressed against Charlotte's back so she cuddled even closer. Sophie hadn't thought of Charlotte's breasts before - she had never been particularly turned on by the sight of a shapely tit in bikini, under sweater or open to the air. She certainly was conscious of her own right at that minute though; Charlotte was resting on one mound and the movement of her head as she turned to watch David over Sophie's belly provided a counterpoint to the harmonious sensations that young man was evoking. Sophie reached down and clasped Charlotte's hand which was resting on her stomach; she lifted it until it was over her other tit, putting it into place and then pressing on the back, making Charlotte's fingers curl into the flesh. Charlotte got the message and began a gentle kneading through Sophie's top. Sophie felt wonderful, in fact she felt herself coming, and unbelievably it was even better than it had been before. Charlotte had turned her head and was gently biting Sophie's breast through her top and bra as Sophie lifted off the bed. As David brought her down gently, and she continued to appreciate cuddling with Charlotte, Sophie had time to wonder. "If this felt so good and yet so many people refused to do it, what must fucking be like?" She wasn't quite ready to voice that request to David, though she made a mental note to get Charlotte's opinion later. It was an attractive thought though. --- The girls were content to lie there for a while and David needed a rest. He had been at it for over half an hour - a solid thirty to forty minutes. He climbed up next to Sophie and she pulled him over so he rested his head on her like Charlotte. With the light on Charlotte looked directly into his eyes and his grin was infectious. "Thank you for such a lovely time. You're really very good." Charlotte didn't have anyone but Sophie to compare David with but if there were better around she didn't know if she would survive the experience. "I hope so." It wasn't really boasting; David wanted to give the girls - any of them - pleasure and hoping that he was good wasn't the same as blowing his own trumpet. "I enjoyed it very much, with both of you. How did you like your first pussy Sophie? Or wasn't it the first?" "No it was my first - but maybe not my last. Charlotte, love... (And that seemed a more appropriate term than it had been before when used just as casually. Were they lovers?) ...you are absolutely scrumptious." "I have to agree. You have probably the nicest pussy I have tasted, all cinnamon and spice. Sorry Sophie, that doesn't mean your pussy isn't delicious too." "And Mr Expert has *HOW* much experience? What does this make it? Three?" Sophie wasn't narked; seriously interested, she wanted to find out just how widely his talents were known and stirring him up seemed to come naturally. "Seriously, and without names, I've tasted, what (fingers bent over in turn), seven now but I've really only eaten four." Sophie immediately wondered who the fourth was but didn't know of Tina's existence so her guesses were way off - but that still left the other three less significant experiences. She would not have believed one could be his own sister despite her earlier interest in Ainslie's body - it was one thing to realise you could look at another girl; it was something else (as she had now found to her pleasure) to do something about it; it was yet another, and one which crossed a line Sophie wouldn't contemplate even approaching, to actually try anything with her sister. The count did pique her interest in one thing. Sophie could cope with not being the best David had tried - there was no particular reason she should have been - but being second or third out of only three samples was different from maybe being rated seventh out of seven. Yet that wasn't a question she could ask; it would only make her look either vain or insecure and of course neither applied to her, did they? Charlotte, better positioned at number one, was actually given a higher compliment by the increase in his "conquests", if that was how it had been. She leaned across Sophie's chest. "Thank you." She kissed David, accepting the casual intrusion of his tongue as a loving gesture rather than as a gesture aimed at further loving. Though the flavour was nowhere near as strong, Charlotte unwittingly emulated Sophie's sister, kissing David so soon after he had been eating Sophie. He saw her lick her lips and realised what had happened. "Nice?" Charlotte quite innocently answered, "Unusual but yes, nice." She had thought he had some sort of breath freshener until he clarified the matter. "You should try it from the source sometime. Shouldn't she Sophie?" Sophie hadn't seen Charlotte's face but she knew very well where David had just come from - her insides were still all tingly. "I think I'd like that. What do you say Lottie? Want to return the favour sometime?" Charlotte may not have been aware but she wasn't slow. She was a little uncertain, if only because of how Ainslie had carried on about the other girls - she didn't want to suffer a similar fate. "It might be nice." Was that encouraging enough while remaining noncommittal? Apparently so. "And how are you feeling David? Hungry or could you handle another dishy girl?" Sophie was fishing for compliments herself while letting him know others were waiting. David deliberately misinterpreted. "Three of you in here! How could I resist?" "No I don't think so. People are likely to notice *THAT* and get a little suspicious if we all disappeared. Natalie's had to help dish things up but if you don't mind putting off your dinner for a little while longer I will send her along." David considered Natalie a real treasure. She was nicely built and nicely spoken plus she had a gawky awkwardness about her that was endearing to one who had not exactly excelled at sports. Natalie was the person who would knock over a vase in a glassware store, who would bean the coach with the ball in softball, who would have trouble getting a straw through a carton of milk and end up with a fountain over either herself or someone nearby. She was also a true friend and approached any of their ventures with more than enough enthusiasm for all. She had heard Sophie's stories and couldn't wait for her own orgasmic experience. The fact she was more than likely to turn back from the door four or five times before finally going through was just typical Natalie. "Now she *WILL* be a bit nervous", advised Sophie. "Understatement time", Charlotte amended. "She will 'um' and 'ah' if you let her. Better turn the light off; she'll be more comfortable at first - I was." Charlotte had found the transition from anonymity to hot bitch exhilarating, Nat might too if allowed to start slowly. "That's a good idea. Just keep her moving along, not too much time to think - without rushing her - oh! you know, you do it so well I'm wasting my time talking." "No. Really. I'm not all that experienced, no matter what you might think. I appreciate your suggestions. I certainly don't want Nat scared or upset." "Okay. We'd better let you have a couple of minutes to get ready then and I'll send her in." "Aren't you forgetting something?" "Oh sorry!" Sophie kissed him. "Thank you for yet another wonderful time, and your similarly wonderful suggestions." "Wow. I'm not knocking that kiss back but I actually meant these." David held up two crumpled pairs of panties. "I believe these are yours." "Why don't you keep them as a memento?" "I'd like to but there's a couple of reasons why not. Firstly people might notice out there. I could see them when you were sitting down before - I would certainly notice if they weren't there but perhaps that's the effect you're looking for. "Then it is possible that someone at the party *DOESN'T* have a head cold. You smell delightful but it is very distinctive and you might not want people wondering where it's coming from. "And then there's me trying to explain to my parents why I have a collection of female underwear - not that I was planning on starting one." "Forget it - I believe you." Charlotte took back her knickers and Sophie followed. "Perhaps you would allow me." David knelt and held out Charlotte's knickers for her to step into. As he lifted them he leaned towards her crotch and inhaled then ran his left hand up her leg to just dip a finger into the crevice dividing her pussy. "Still damp", he thought. David continued to pull her panties into position and then gently passed his palm over her ass. Charlotte rewarded him with another kiss before making a final adjustment. David knelt again and repeated the whole procedure, dipping a finger from his right hand this time. He got another kiss; Sophie was not going to be outdone by her friend. Then David raised his hands, and an eyebrow. Charlotte stood on his right, Sophie on the left. His fingers glistened. Would they take the bait? Sophie looked at Charlotte and smiled; she took her hand in her own and opened her mouth in front of David's fingers. He waited to see what Charlotte would do. Sophie gave two quick squeezes - it will be alright, trust me - the message came through without the need for words and Charlotte received Sophie's offering at the same time Sophie devoured hers. His fingers cleaned, David was about to sit so he could wait while they sent Nat but then realised there had been one significant omission. "I don't think you have thanked Sophie properly yet Charlotte." "Oh no, I didn't. Thank you Sophie, it was wonderful." Sophie had caught the subtle emphasis on "properly" and if Charlotte wasn't going to make the effort *SHE* damn well would. She moved closer and said, "I enjoyed it" as her cheek brushed Charlotte's. The words were barely breathed into Charlotte's ear and then Sophie turned and was suddenly kissing her school chum. Charlotte responded, kissing Sophie as she had David. When they parted they looked at David who was every bit as pleased as they were. It showed in his pants. "Oh you poor thing. We might have to find some way of dealing with that - give it some thought." David finally sat down and the two girls approached the door, Sophie only letting go of Charlotte's hand when it was time to turn the knob. "Turn out the light please." He lay back and wondered just how many girls would want his attentions and whether he could find one who would accept a suggestion that she let Doug show his abilities; he *WAS* almost as skilful - though to be honest, that may just have David's pride since Tina hadn't actually graded them. It was something he should have suggested to Sophie earlier; He couldn't very well back away now from someone hot and wet and waiting. David looked at the state of his erection and concentrated instead on the periodic table. Unless he took some time out in the bathroom, he still had a few hours to go before he could jerk off again. That had been one thing he had made sure of before going out that evening since it made him less prone to a little accident. Natalie's alarm clock showed the passage of time in the dark room as its phosphor covered hands slowly moved across the face. "She should be coming in at any minute. I'd better be ready." *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Assassin Part: Chapter 12 of 27 Summary: Ass, sass and sin. A young assassin does more than befriend people when he tries to get close to his targets. Keywords: Mfff, oral, voy, exhib Language: English Copyright: 2009 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* I had been given the job of getting close to one Adam Pringle - because he was a slippery bastard who was too nasty to live. He was also a hard man to get access to but fortunately his twin children Mark and Kyra were far more approachable though I'd unwittingly made a couple of poor decisions while trying to build a good cover story. Three of them were my foster-sister Anna and two of the other players from her girls' soccer team. I had hoped to play one against the other to keep things mainly platonic but hadn't counted on them teaming up. In the end, I had take them, with Anna, to a spot where nude bathing was prevalent if not actually legally permitted. During the drive the girls had become accepting of each other's presence which unfortunately meant they each expected me to service their needs at some stage during our picnic. ********************************************************* I cleaned myself up - the water seemed cooler after we'd been in the shade. Anna was passing things out from our lunch pack to the others but stood when I finished drying myself. She crossed to me, keeping her eyes fixed on mine as she approached. Her arms swung around my neck and her mouth found mine for a very sensuous kiss. "Thank you for making this day possible. I'm sure the others are equally appreciative of how you've taught us to enjoy ourselves and each other. Now, what would you like to eat - and I don't mean who!" She turned back to the food but Rosalee hurried up to take her place before I could answer. "Just, thank you!" She kissed me more sedately than she had before; perhaps Hailey's example was good for her and I let Rosalee know I liked it. "Mmm, I could survive on those for a while." "We don't want you just surviving; you need to keep your strength up. Come on!" Rosalee took my hand and led me to lunch. It was good that Ma had a hand in our outing or we might have dined on nuts, crisps and corn chips. Instead there was salad, conveniently cut as finger food, and sandwich meat curled into toothpick fastened tubes with coloured cocktail onions or pimento stuffed olives. She had also seen we had cold bite-sized home-made sausage rolls and sandwich stacks with finger thick slices - three high and again secured by toothpicks. Nourishing, tasty, *AND* likely to be eaten by teenagers! Lunch was a time for us to find out more about each other in a non-sexual way. Of course, they were interested in my past life and I told them a mixture of anecdotes from both my real life and from Roger Torrent's. I also asked more about each of them, including Anna. Though I could have asked about her at home that would have been most impolite and not given the others a chance to hear her answers. They had all met four years earlier when they had all joined the soccer competition which had been resurrected for girls after widespread flagging interest had been restored with some well-publicised wins at the highest level. Rosalee and Hailey already knew each other from school but had separate groups of friends so hadn't socialised much. In contrast to much male team bonding it seemed girls had far more networks that often overlapped in unusual ways and so they didn't spend all their time with others on their soccer team. Instead it was a practical friendship - helping each other get to and from games, passing on messages from the coach if a player missed practise, that sort of thing. They certainly didn't arrive at parties en masse and look down on those not interested in their sport. Okay, so I sound bitter! I'm not really; how many of the jocks can truthfully say they are one of the best in *THEIR* fields while not yet twenty? Admittedly it is hard to judge how many are at the top in some fields - especially when the best make sure that no-one is aware they have added a few more points to their batting average. I know I've got twelve for twelve with very little collateral (damage). Only one had a less than spotless coroner's report and she was already preparing to leave the country. When Hailey found I was tutoring Anna she hinted she could use some if I was interested. Her parents wouldn't be able to pay me much for my time - but there might be compensations. When I avoided any commitment to help, she then suggested she could join Anna and we could all study together. It became obvious that she thought that was when we did our fooling around. Actually Ma usually had an ear out then more to see what problems Anna was having and whether I was actually of any help rather than to stop any mischief. I was surprised that Rosalee didn't suggest she needed help too but, when I asked her if she was interested, she shook her head. "I'd never get my parents to agree; they wouldn't see the need." "Why?" Did they have a problem with girls and education? Unfortunately I didn't find that hard to believe even nowadays. "Because she's dux of the school." "Unofficial," protested Rosalee, "Only a senior can be Dux." "What's that?" asked Anna. It was an acknowledgement not awarded by our school nor would it have been particularly sought after except by a few devoted bookworms. "The person scoring the highest consolidated grades in their senior year but Rosy - definitely Rosy cheeks with that blush - is ahead of all of them and they know it." "Congratulations. And you've kept quiet about your achievements all this time!" "It's only school." "Yeah well continue the same over the next year and a bit and you'll likely get a nice university scholarship - if not multiple grants." I considered it a worthwhile objective - just not for me. I was thinking of spending maybe eight more years working, and then fifty or so in pleasantly financed retirement. I could collect my century in that time and that meant $25 million tax free at least, neatly accounted for by legitimate business transactions with a share to the revenuers to stop them thinking I was stashing drug money or worse away. I wasn't in a "till death us do part" working relationship, nor one that begrudged handing over our standard fee or my salary retainer. The only criteria was that, when we retired, we retired. No freelancing, though we might be offered some special piece work - or more likely given problems with dictators, warlords and military juntas - a little peace work. Armies, subjected to political and now all-seeing media oversight, could not perform certain surgical tasks with the precision needed. The government also lacked the will to deal appropriately harshly with some of our allies, while being at the same time overly critical of those who might oppose us for quite legitimate reasons. I might not be able to blend in as easily in Central Asia perhaps but on the shores of the Mediterranean a teenager visiting friends or relatives need not be suspicious. Of course I couldn't pass for Jewish with my pants down but the Holy Land was that for non-Jews as well and there were plenty of other countries to visit. A visit to Mecca would be considerably harder and I don't fancy emulating the earlier Richard Burton just to sneak in. A politician who was charismatic enough to gather supporters into a strong coalition wasn't a bad thing in itself but, when the result was further division, fighting and chaos in the region, there were no winners. A little mayhem with the traffic signals brought about a minor accident. A shattered windscreen meant some flying glass cut the politician's face - or so it seemed. It was only a pellet gun really, though with a special double barrel so, when I fired, one shot was released a fraction of a second beforehand to shatter the glass before my "bullet" found its target. The Bulgarians had used an umbrella and ricin. I had a dissolving matrix embedded with a mixture of antibiotic-resisting nasties that had been carefully collected so there was no link back to US lab stock. Even the first shot was made of hardened glass so it would be harder to distinguish from the windscreen debris. Reports of an unknown illness felling the politician spread quickly when he collapsed. There was disbelief when it was revealed publicly that he had a rare pneumonia and also leaked quite truthfully that he had both syphilis *AND* gonorrhoea. His wife of thirty years had herself tested and somehow the results that she was clear were also leaked. Though he did eventually recover, he couldn't recover the loss of support among the more religious parties. It was enough to edge the balance of power towards a more conciliatory alliance. I didn't reveal any of that sort of history though - not that I would have been believed without a demonstration. --- Rosalee's maturity level was now a little easier to understand, though such a glib explanation as her intelligence isolating her from others might have been far too simplistic. We ate our fill and covered the rest so it would be fresh and insect-free if we wanted something - else - to nibble on later. With everything packed away there was a general air of anticipation in our little camp yet matters were such that we were all quite prepared to let the others go first while we recovered more completely. Watching *WAS* more likely to raise our libidos quickly! So when I settled into place I became a veritable chick magnet - something which *DOESN'T* normally happen despite my current situation suggesting otherwise. Anna snuggled in to one side and Hailey the other this time; Rosalee lay on her stomach with her breasts pressed against the inside of my thighs while she rested her arms across the tops of them. She viewed my limp organ with interest. I understood her curiosity and, when she turned a quizzical face towards me, I just smiled and nodded. We all watched as Rosalee took hold of my prick; as she pulled the foreskin back to expose the smooth head and its collar. She leaned forwards and extended her tongue, just licking around the area normally covered. I expected the sweet sensations would soon have me stiffening and Rosalee must have had a similar thought as she covered me with her mouth and pressed her face deep into my curls. I reacted, or rather my body did, and I could feel myself being trapped in the confines of her mouth. Rosalee was challenging herself - she couldn't take me whole when I was hard, how long could she manage to keep her nose hidden by my pubic hair while I grew? I could feel her gagging but she held on even so; I was pressed against her throat solely by her own actions and though she resisted the impulse to empty her stomach, she had no choice but to back away. Rosalee resumed her previous examination, this time of an organ over double the size. "Now I can imagine what those men down the hill might be like. Wow!" "They might end up all around the same size regardless of what they look like, Rosy Love. I liked how that felt, especially your nose rubbing me at the same time." Rosalee rubbed her nose back through the short curls - without me in her mouth this time - and then decided to explore my balls with her fingers. "Careful," I warned hurriedly, "you can't be too rough." "Do you mean I'd better not be too rough or that there is nothing I could do that would be rougher than you can stand?" "Which do you think 'careful' might imply?" "Okay - I'll be very careful." I wasn't entirely sure Rosalee was joking. I had trouble understanding why, if she was so good at her school work, she was rather ignorant about sex. I had to satisfy my curiosity. "Rosy, you were a bit uncertain about getting pregnant before; I would have thought you'd have studied it somewhere." "Well of course I have. I know you have sex and if you're in heat you get pregnant and nine months later yoy have a baby." "So your studies were more about animals?" "Yes but I know it's the same with people. That's why I was sure I couldn't get pregnant - I haven't ever gone into heat, though maybe today I did... I felt rather horny in the car." "You might have been hot love but you weren't in heat like animals. They'll only have sex when they are in heat; women might get more or less interested through the month but they are willing and able for the whole time if they want." Rosalee thought of the implications and muttered, "yuck". "So your mother hasn't explained things then?" "Roger, you've got to realise, if Rosalee's mum is like mine, she thinks keeping us ignorant and simply increasing the dangers of sex is the best way of stopping us fucking." "True," added Rosalee, "Mum would be like that." "What about the internet? Haven't you been curious?" "Sure but those sites are barred. I can do a quick search at school to try and get through because they don't know who is trying," explained Rosalee. "It's only if they see you getting a 'blocked' message that you can't explain that you get your privileges revoked. At home they would see I'd been looking around by the log entries and I'd be in more trouble." "Well we'll just have to make sure you're up to speed on all aspects - with plenty of show and tell," Anna assured her. "That sounds like fun." "And I'll show you some of the sites and sights I found when we get home. You thought the guys down there might get big! You won't believe your eyes!" "Photoshop," I said for my own protection knowing it wasn't the case in every picture. "Do you think I can get fucked now?" "If I was to push you down the rocks you'd be fucked, what we should do is make love." "I offered to get you in the mood first," Anna reminded Rosalee. "Would you like me to?" Rosalee didn't answer at once. I didn't know if she was too eager for me or if she didn't want to appear too eager for another girl's touch despite what they had already shared. "Can I make a suggestion?" I might satisfy Anna's obvious yearnings and provide something different for Rosalee as well. "Of course." "If you lie on your back and Anna covers you, you can each eat other and I can make love to you as well." "Oh yes please. Please Rosalee, it will be even better!" Rosalee had been convinced. If she got properly fucked - and forget the cliff - *AND* could get eaten and eat at the same time well - of course she would agree! "Here?" She looked at the ground. I looked too. I would have to kneel; was there anywhere that was raised? There is never a coffee table around in a national park when you need one! One boulder was the right height but not big enough for them to lie across. Another was nearby and I was able to roll it over next to after scooping out a hollow and using a broken branch as a lever. "What are you doing?" "Making you a bed." "It doesn't look too comfortable." "Give me a minute. Can one of you roll up a towel please and I need one doubled lengthwise then doubled over." The tube went into the dip where the rocks met; the pad over the top of that to fill the now shallower but wider gaps. I lay the other two towels right over the whole area. Maybe not the softest bed but surely comfortable. "Here you go then." I helped Rosalee into position and then watched Anna crawl up over her. I whispered in Hailey's ear, gave her a kiss while I rubbed her sandy rump then went to Rosalee's head. Hailey knelt by Anna's. "I think we should check you both first." I rubbed my thumb around Anna's pussy and then pushed it into the dampest spot. At the other end Hailey was using her fingers on Rosalee, getting two to snugly fit inside her. Priming their pumps, we nodded to each other and simultaneously removed out digits and popped them into our own mouths in front of the person who should have been dining on those juices. Hailey added a variation of her own and offered Anna two fingers that had been buried in Hailey's cunt while she had been busy. They were returned scrupulously cleaned. "Would you like to know what is going to happen to you?" I asked Rosalee. I guess she thought I would explain step by step but instead I reached between Anna's pussy and Rosalee's face and spread Anna's inner lips to expose the inner details of her pussy and the entrance to her cunt. "I am going to spread you like this so we will all be able to see your most intimate places and then I'm going to rub my prick over you like this and finally I'm going to push myself up inside you like this..." I buried myself easily in the cunt that had grown accustomed to my prick when Anna wasn't using her buzzy toy to remind her what it was like to have me there. I pumped back and forth twice - quickly - and then pulled out and let my prick rest against Rosalee's lips. Anna's scent must have been overpowering; I could smell it clearly just standing there. Rosalee did the expected and opened her mouth so she could clean me up. She did a good job and I noticed her shuddering a little. I looked down the other end and found Anna had reacted to being fucked by eating Rosalee while she had a hand wedged between Hailey's thighs. Hailey met my eye with unbridled lust; I suspected I might be called on again somehow. Rosalee released me. "You aren't wearing a condom. I thought you needed to, to stop us getting pregnant!" I didn't really want to stop to explain about the rhythm method. I shouldn't have needed to, to a Catholic girl but apparently that was a topic for discussion *AFTER* marriage instead of for schoolgirls. In her household the only contraceptive was abstinence, a method with an even higher failure rate when combined with ignorance. "Special circumstances, we can discuss them later but I'd like to see you eating Anna while I put a condom on." Rosalee was nothing if not eager and I noticed she used the same excess of enthusiasm she had previously applied to kissing. I had to speak up for Anna's sake and knelt down. "Feel what Anna is doing to you. What feels the best? Can you copy her? Where does her tongue go? How hard does she press or suck? Does she make her tongue into a hard spear or into a flat shovel? Here is her clit but it can be too sensitive." "Anna," I called, "can you dig your tongue into Rosy's clit please and then suck on it a little hard." Rosalee's eyes lit up then screwed up. "Okay now to the left and then the right lightly; leave the middle alone." I could see Rosalee's smile buried beneath Anna's pussy. "Now just a little light flick in the middle." Yes! That was the spot. "Good. Bury your tongue inside her now please. Make Rosalee thing I'm already down that end. Right and rub her cunt." Did swearing make a difference to convent-schooled sensibilities? I wouldn't have expected nowadays but Rosalee seemed to get a kick out of hearing words I guess she dared not use at home or school. "Okay?" Rosalee nodded with her tongue in contact with Anna - it was a technique I hadn't mentioned. "Back in a minute." I took another condom out of my pack and dropped just the wrapper in its place. I walked back via Hailey who had a hand on the back of Anna's head almost pushing her down into Rosalee's pussy while writhing on Anna's hand. I stood behind her, my bare erection obvious against her butt crack. "I could lean you across Anna's back and screw you like we did before. Your tits would be squashed against her back and Anna would feel them rubbing all around as I pushed deeper into you." "She *SHOULD* feel it - hers were wonderful against my back." "The only thing is she'd have to move her hand." "Then you'd better come back later - I'm busy!" I gave her neck a light nibble and returned to Rosalee's head. I stood where she could watch my penis being given a strawberry coating. Rosalee started to giggle. "What's up?" I asked. "Little Red Riding Hood. I'm the big bad wolf..." "Fox," I interrupted, "definitely foxy I assure you." "Okay - and thank you. I'm the big bad foxy lady and I'm going to gobble you up. Let's see. What a big dick you have Grandpa." "Er - are you sure you remember this story properly?" "Maybe I'm remembering how it's going to go - or perhaps I'll just 'remember' it later. Alone." She caught on quickly; so could I. "Okay then, er, all the better to fuck you with." "And what big balls you have Grandpa." "All the better to fill you up little girl." "And what a cute ass you've got Grandpa." "All the better to power-drive my prick deeper inside of you. And what are you going to do while that is happening?" "I'm going to finish this delicious pussy!" "Well don't let me hold you up any longer then." "Bye." Rosalee found her place and continued unashamedly eating another girl from her soccer team. It really would be nice watching them all shower if I could coax them to similarly join in. And if they actually had change rooms and a shower at the grounds. I had three girls willing to fool around with me in the most serious ways and with each other and I had fantasies about a dozen girls at once. A dozen beauties surrounding you was okay if you were being serviced or if you only had to please one but the reality would be considerably less exciting by the time I reached the twelfth. Net porn images had nothing over watching the real thing - especially when one knew that the girls in question *REALLY HAD* never done anything similar before that day. I actually had to drag myself away; after all, I had had sex before and would again but I may never again get a chance to be present while two young sexy girls eat each other's pussies! No! I'd make that happen, somehow!. I pressed my fingertips to my lips and then to Rosalee's forehead in farewell. Time to see how Anna was doing. Hailey was fairing nicely; Anna couldn't really get where she needed to be to push Hailey over the edge and Hailey herself was quite happy to simmer as long as possible. I was sorry in some regards that we didn't have a couple of extra dicks available to keep the girls satisfied - not that I thought they weren't coping on their own nor that they particularly needed a dick to make them happy; they were learning that lesson well. Actually, what would have been ideal would have been for Mark and Kyra to join us - provided Mark could swing at least a little back towards normal. Unfortunately, even if he had liked girls it would have spoiled my efforts to get better access to their home. I wondered if the girls would appreciate me giving myself a going away party when the time came and organising all the available guys so they could see who were worth dating. I didn't know how I could possibly organise it without actually explaining that I was going away - getting six to ten guys would be easy compared to admitting that! When I stood by Anna's head she neglected Rosalee to fuck me with her mouth. (Well I guess I put a little effort into it as well.) There was only a little sucking, very little tongue and mainly a lot of bobbing. Rosalee, trapped underneath Anna's body when it had been her turn, had needed to concentrate on tongue instead. Hailey shivered next to me as she watched Anna. "Would *YOU* like to do that to me after?" Another shiver from Hailey. "Trust me?" "It's a bit late now if I didn't." I found a pocket of Rosalee's slippery slime that hadn't found its way past Anna's tonsils and coated my index finger as thickly as possible. I curled my hand protectively around it and reached behind Hailey. "Lean forward a little." Hailey did so and I introduced, not that finger but one either side, spreading her ass cheeks and finding her asshole. There I transferred a little of the slime from the side of my finger with the tip of another. I pressed it against the entrance and left it a little slipperier. Repeated a couple of times, the ring of muscle was quite damp and Hailey was getting accustomed to the invasion. She trusted me though her upbringing said it was dirty and wrong. Perhaps that was why I could hear Anna's fingers making squelching noises. My index finger had to be next; its tip had a thicker coating than the rest. I put my fingertip directly over the bullseye and pressed. I lost a fingernail; it was hidden somewhere inside Hailey's body now. I worked it back and forth slowly and she responded as I hoped. For a girl not willing to fuck the week before she was experiencing an anal finger-fuck with a willing state of mind. I hadn't brought lube and wasn't going to take Hailey's anal cherry before we left the pool, (if that opportunity ever even arose) but I was at least nibbling at the choice fruit. I couldn't delay or I would get too worked up and never give Rosalee the type of fuck she deserved. Hailey was disappointed when I deserted her but watched with interest when I did exactly what I had said I would do and spread Rosalee's lips and then the entrance to her cunt for all of us to see. "God, is that what I look like?" "I'm not sure Hailey love, I can compare designs later if you want." She ignored me and paid closer attention to what I was doing. Nowhere near as close as Anna though, literally. After I had run my knob along the furrow I held open, Anna had to cross her eyes to really see me bury myself half way, withdraw, then plunge even deeper into Rosalee. I hoped Rosalee found it as good as I did. Even with Anna over her, Rosalee raised her knees and clamped them to my thighs; she didn't want me to vanish. I made long slow movements and, denied a treat similar to that I had given Rosalee to taste, Anna's tongue darted in whenever I gave her enough room. It had certainly been easier to get my nuts nibbled when I had been fucking Anna - or it would have been had Rosalee been so inclined. As I got more energetic and produced "Grandpa's Power- Drive" Anna had to wait and concentrated more on Hailey. She took her hand back and managed to kneel over Rosalee's face leading Hailey with her to provide support on their narrow bed and in return fingering Hailey again when she hinted she would like more with a push of Anna's hand in that direction. I took firm hold of Rosalee's hips and she in turn lifted her legs higher so they were wrapped around my waist. Linked, her body moved with my thrusts, being pulled one way by her legs and pushed the other by my pubes against hers. Anna shook too and her smile as we watched each other told me I probably had the same goofy expression on my face that she did. I came and thrust hard a few times at my release but Rosalee needed more and I was capable of remaining hard for a little while longer. I shifted my hands slightly and clasped her thighs over the top so my thumbs could penetrate to rest either side of my prick. As I thrust I teased the edges of her clit as well. It had a beneficial effect but not soon enough; I was beginning to slide around inside the condom. Rosalee resisted my leaving but eventually I was able to unlock her legs. She must have been disappointed I hadn't made her come as she had expected but I wasn't about to leave her in the lurch. I knelt and pressed my mouth to her pussy, burying my tongue in the still gaping hole. I would have preferred her sweet juices but artificial strawberry was still preferable to my own emissions. There was little unused lubricant so I had to be careful I wasn't brushing against dry surfaces. My saliva helped but I swallowed that back up as fast as I spread it around. However I did know what I was doing and I brought Rosalee to a noisy orgasm - her muffled squeals making Anna jump above her. That reminded me and I serenaded her through her pause and back up the emotional mountain climb to a second, better one that had her screaming and writhing under my "little sister". Anna was coming too at that and it looked like Hailey was close as well. I had a little strength left in my tongue so I beckoned her over, indicating I would lick her if she wanted. She smiled and gave the exhausted Anna a kiss of thanks. I lay down on the sand, not caring too much about the site until I had to move a stone from behind my spine. Hailey approached and I drew her down to kneel facing my forehead. Anna had done all the hard work and I reaped the benefits! Hailey was well coated and still wet; she tasted wonderful and needed little more effort to join the rest of us in Heaven. Hailey's thighs clamped against my cheeks as she lifted herself away from my questing tongue. I was quite willing to relax though I puckered my lips and kissed her as she sat over me for a few seconds to recover. They followed me, joined me in the pool as I washed myself and we were suddenly a single lump of mutually hugging flesh. Kisses were exchanged indiscriminately and we lay back in the water cooling off. I looked over them all. We would probably need to refresh the sunscreen that had been spread over us earlier. As it was they might have trouble explaining a lack of tan lines if their skin browned up. As we lay quietly we heard a voice and rolled over to look at the path from below. A young couple appeared and were surprised to find the spot taken - at least by a group such as ours. "Hello." "Hi there," I answered. They stood there, naked and sweaty. The woman looked the next climb and said something to the man. He nodded and turned back to us. "We don't want to impose but do you mind if we cool off for a minute before we continue on?" I had no objection if that was all they wanted; it was a public park after all and it was only mutual courtesy that gave us any right to privacy. Hospitality meant we should welcome them and the girls showed no sign they weren't willing to do that. "Sure" "Thanks. I'm Darren and this is Marie." They dropped their packs where they were safe and eased out of their sneakers. "Roger," I answered and moved around the group. "Anna, Hailey, Rosalee." The girls sat up as I introduced them and I guess it was awkward deciding whether to brazen out being nude before strangers or having to talk while lying on their bellies. Downstream everything was further away - here we could easily see anything that was to be seen and the same applied to our visitors. I wondered if the girls had noticed that Darren, at least, had noticed the towels still spread across the rocks. They had been left mussed up and looked to be screaming what their use had been. When he and Marie joined us I realised we had all been checking them out but I guessed curiosity had to be natural. Darren had some extra width on me, I couldn't deny it, and I suspected some more length. Could he use it as effectively though? I wasn't worried either way; we weren't going to be in direct competition and he wasn't going to make the girls any less satisfied in my performance if he managed to treat Marie better than I ever could. Marie herself wasn't too hard on the eyes either. She had the advantages of a few years maturity; the girls had gone most of the way from child to woman but Marie had finished the journey and it was subtly noticeable. Once again though, I wouldn't have abandoned any of the three to get to know her on the off chance she could provide something they couldn't. She might turn out disappointing whereas that was the last word I would apply to Rosalee, Hailey and Anna. Having made their own quick appraisals of us, our guests lay back in the water and this time Darren's glance back over his shoulder couldn't be missed. He looked at me and I remained nonchalant but when he tried eye contact - and a quizzical eyebrow - with each of the girls he got a mixed response. Anna simply smiled and met his gaze. I'd shown my affection for her publicly - well, at least before her two friends - and she was quite proud to have others think we'd been lovers, provided there was no likelihood they would be passing that message or any proof on to her parents. Hailey couldn't match his gaze and looked away. That might have been a guilty conscience, though she could truthfully deny being the one to use the towels - Darren just wouldn't be sure. Rosalee however blushed so heavily the top half of her chest looked like she'd had too much sun. Darren's mind must have been working overtime and the blush can't have helped since it drew his eyes lower to a chest that surpassed his Marie's endowments. He was in the water but it was shallow and the change in his body made him break the surface like a river tortoise coming up for air. The movement caught the girls' eyes and they watched with interest for a few seconds before Darren decided sitting up would be less embarrassing though less cooling as well. I had to give it to him though. It must have been hard staying hard while three girls were staring with either grin, smile or an "O" of surprise. And of course their stares made Marie look so I suppose Darren would have to explain to her later. "Have you been coming up here long?" I looked at Marie; a pause indicated the girls seemed to be leaving it to me to answer. We were too young to have been fooling around for long but family groups were common downstream and we would have learned about these pools over time. "It's our first visit. It's a lovely spot; nice and quiet." Darren replied. "Yes. It is one of our favourite spots. There are a few more quiet places further along." He pointed upstream. He didn't mention the obvious, that there were advantages and disadvantages to each. If the gully was busy you would be disturbed more often by taking possession of a lower pool. If you went further back into the gully - and that didn't mean a substantial vertical climb between most pools - you got more privacy at the expense of interrupting others as you arrived and left and wasted more of your day hiking. It might be worth skipping the first couple of pools in the hopes that others wouldn't and so you would be left alone or else hope that, like today, those wanting some privacy would be elsewhere. "So you've been naturalists somewhere else?" asked Marie. If we had we'd let our tans fade. "No. First time for that as well." "Oh." "We heard about this spot from a friend who used to come up here with her family," Anna informed them. "Up to this pool?" Surprise from Marie. "No. Downstream by the main pool. She said there were some 'better' spots up here though. Quieter." A very suggestive answer. It implied we knew what happened up in the secluded pools and didn't care that the others were aware that we weren't innocents caught out in a special lovers' lane. Which bought Darren back to his speculation and further difficulties. I almost laughed. "Well I guess we can continue on our way," said Marie, standing up. Was it revenge on Darren or an opportunity to show him off to the girls? It didn't matter, Darren wasn't so happy to leave the water. He did so however and the girls got a good look at him. I decided I didn't have anything to worry about though I was currently limp. I looked at Marie, thinking of exploring her body, thinking of asking Darren to stay so we could share it and possibly work our way through the girls as well. It was working as I wished and then Marie helped no end by bending over in a most unladylike fashion to display an attractive target. "Does anyone want a drink?" I offered. "I'll share a sip." "Same." "Just one cup then." I left the water and had the girls looking back and forth between us. "Can I offer you a drink?" I asked politely while standing next to the bent Marie's head. She turned her face to look directly at my hard on. "From that?" she whispered to me alone. She straightened. "No thanks, we've got plenty of water." Then she looked at Darren and back at me. She wasn't dissatisfied; she felt she had the better of the deal from whatever perspective she chose *AND* felt it was her body that had caused mine to react so she felt she had bested the girls as well. Win-Win for her. No loss of face for Darren since all us guys had boners. He shook my hand and whispered "I hope you're all enjoying yourselves." "And I hope you find a nice peaceful spot for the afternoon too." He grinned a conspiratorial grin and headed over to where Marie was saying goodbye to the girls. "The only problem with stopping for a dip is putting socks and sneakers back over damp feet," she complained. "Well if we get a move on you can take them off again in a minute." Darren seemed in a hurry to find a spot where he could get a piece and Marie waved goodbye with similar enthusiasm. She did check me out one more time though. "Do you think they will be able to hear us?" Hailey whispered. "Or spy on us?" "I think they will be far enough away not to hear or at least understand normal voices. As for the other, if you were Marie would you spend your time lying uncomfortably where you could spy on us or would you want Darren to wear you out so he had to piggyback you down to your car?" "I'd want him to fuck me here *WHILE* I was watching us do the same," Anna was not afraid she would be condemned by us. "Why didn't you suggest they stay then?" asked Rosalee. She sounded like she might not have objected. "Because the question was what would I do if I was her, not what would I like her to do," Anna replied. "I don't mind you seeing Roger making love to me because we are all doing it together - but I don't know I'm as interested in others seeing what we are doing." "I agree," said Hailey. "I think this is special. Weird, unacceptable, kinky, whatever. I don't care about that. It is still special to me and I don't want to spoil it." "I'd have liked to have seen how she managed Darren's... prick, that's all. It was rather thick." Rosalee blushed and reminded me to go and get the sunscreen. I started on her to allow me to coax her to answer without being worried I might be offended. "He was thicker. You could always climb up there and either spy on them or see if they minded you watching. They might even let you join in." "But I don't want him. I want you!" "I know, but wanting me doesn't mean you aren't allowed to wonder what it would be like to be with him." I'd done her back and arms and was carefully covering her chest. Pale breasts unused to sunlight needed protection but nipples tasting of sunscreen weren't as nice. Still, burnt nipples weren't worth the difference between licking and tweaking. Rosalee got them covered completely at the cost of using up cream the rest of us might need (not really). If my hands did more than needed it certainly wasn't a problem with her. She leaned back against me and listened while I spun a tale for her as I rubbed it in. [The tale is told in Chapter 13.] *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Assassin Part: Chapter 26 of 27 Summary: Ass, sass and sin. A young assassin does more than befriend people when he tries to get close to his targets. Keywords: Mfff, ff, toys, anal, oral, exhib Language: English Copyright: 2009 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* Somehow I ended up screwing my foster-sister Anna as well as two of her friends, Hailey and Rosalie; somehow we all fell in love. Though things have fallen to pieces around us with our respective parents finding out what has been going on, I think I've been able to keep the girls safe while I have to leave for at least a while. Ma and Doug have left us alone in the house for my final few hours knowing that we are likely to all have sex of one sort or another. I'd taken Rosalie to my room where we had finished up exhausted and Anna had taken Hailey to her room to show Hailey her little toy. ********************************************************* "Roger brought it somehow. I haven't really had to use it very often because he kept visiting but there are some advantages to having my own little penis available whenever I want it." Hailey turned it in her hands and Anna indicated she should turn it on. The base swivelled, providing both an on/off switch and a speed control. In the quiet house it sounded like she was revving a motorbike. "It's not quite as noisy as it seems now and even that is muffled if you slip it up inside you." "What is it like?" "Oh, I want you to find that out for yourself. It is quite lovely though." Hailey wasn't reluctant to try it, just reluctant to use it on herself. Making love with Anna wasn't the same as masturbating in front of her. Anna climbed up onto the end of her bed though and directed Hailey to lie down with her head on the pillow. "Let's get these off of you." Hailey's jeans - her only pair now - were soon removed and Anna eased the panties down Hailey's legs while keeping her eyes on the patch they had been covering. "I love the way your hair looks. It's so neat and feathery where mine is a thick mass of curls." "Yours is softer though. Like a mattress - which is good." "Rosalee's is soft too." "I think she might be the nicest to eat as well." "I wonder which Roger prefers." "Fur or taste?" "Fur. I can't do anything about taste other than keep clean but if he wanted me to have a trim I wouldn't mind." "I think he likes you as you are now. He hasn't said anything to make you think any different has he?" "No." Anna rubbed her fingers over Hailey's triangle and then followed the wisps of hair onto her wide lips. "He doesn't compare us at all," she mused, "but he must prefer one thing over another." Hailey lifted her hips to increase Anna's touch and Anna responded with an exploring finger. "Nice. I guess he doesn't want to upset us but we haven't been making him miss out on anything. You might prefer Coke but you still enjoy a milkshake. No-one has actually been making him drink water have they?" "Well that would only be spiting ourselves." Anna picked up the vibrator and, with it still switched off, rubbed it against Hailey in place of her fingers. "Is that okay?" "Yes but your fingers were nicer." "How about now?" Anna turned the toy on and Hailey immediately felt the tingles go through her as Anna applied it to the surface of her pussy. "Much better." "Want me to try it inside you?" "Yes please." The transition was rather disappointing as Hailey found her cunt was less sensitive to the plastic shiver. As Anna left it in place though things began to change and the vibrations began to resonate inside her pelvic region. Now, as Anna's fingers caressed her on the outside, the pressure seemed to build from deep inside her as well. "Hold onto this for a minute." Anna pulled Hailey's hand onto the bump that was all that protruded from her body. Hailey wriggled it a little, finding where things felt nicest. "That's right. I like to press it away from me when it's about half way in." Hailey tried it. Anna was right - though it did need just a little more. Hailey rubbed her breast with her free hand and cursed her bra. The minute was up - a couple of minutes earlier - and Anna hadn't re-taken control. Hailey looked up from the pillow and saw her friend with her panties pushed to one side. Anna was busily burying her fingers in her own pussy as she watched Hailey. "Enjoying yourself?" Anna grinned. "I liked watching you. You're very sexy." "Pity this thing hasn't got two pointy ends. We could play slick clits with it buzzing inside both of us." "I like it! I don't think we could rub together properly while we are joined but if you don't mind me trying we might be able to get some way there." "Please do. You know I'm game for more fun." Anna stood and peeled off her panties. Two seconds later she was sliding her legs between Hailey's - interlocking scissors with pussies rapidly approaching. Anna couldn't get the vibrator to slide into her and trying to pressed it uncomfortably deeper into Hailey. "I think it needs to be in me first," she decided. Anna moved away and pulled the now slippery device from her friend's body. "Oh! You notice it when it is gone. Just like Roger. Oh! I guess we will notice him gone too." "Give me a sec and I'll fill you up again." Hailey watched Anna turn the vibrator around and plunge it into her own cunt to at least temporarily expand herself. Then she wriggled the blunt end inside her making the volume go up and down as Anna bumped the controls. The two girls couldn't help but laugh. "Don't take the top off or we'll have a bugger of a job getting it out. You're probably wet enough to short out the batteries as well." Anna was determined to get the vibrator in place and working so she could fuck the smile off of Hailey's face and hopefully replace it with an even bigger one. "There! It's in and running." Anna turned what was left of the toy and tried to grip it with muscles not accustomed to obeying that sort of command. Trial and error allowed her to boost the speed - and Anna determined she would practise that technique so that when I visited she could stop me leaving again. The vibrator was at an unusual angle if Anna had intended to use the Missionary position but quite appropriate for what the two girls had in mind if not quite the available length either girl had grown accustomed to. Anna pulled it out a little way and guided the pointed stub back to Hailey's opening and carefully pushed it in. "That okay?" "Wonderful? Your end?" "We need something larger. Size might not matter but it's bloody hard to keep hold of it!" Size didn't matter since the vibrator was affecting the clit tissue that surrounded their cunts and was close enough to stimulate the g-spots just inside. The rest of their cunts were satisfied with the rumblings that spread through their bodies and wouldn't have added much further pleasure unless the object had been wide enough to stretch as well. The very top of Hailey's thigh rubbed against Anna's clit and Anna's thigh rubbed against Hailey's. The vibrator did spoil the sort of rushed violence they perpetrated against one another when it was slippery body parts in low-friction collision. Because it pushed awkwardly they had to keep their movements gentler - especially when Hailey managed to grip with her vaginal muscles and fucked Anna, blunt end first. The vibrations were nice but the object just wasn't designed to be shared in that manner. "Time out," called Anna. She relaxed as best as she could and moved away from Hailey. The vibrator edged out of both of them; a little from Anna, some more from Hailey, then a little more from Anna again. Hailey reached between them and held it in place while Anna slid off. "Wow!" "It opens up more possibilities." "If I can have it, we'll try one more." "Here then Sweetheart." "I really love you Hailey." "Yeah well I wouldn't be here if I didn't love you right back. Which was literally true. Without the bisexual nature of her sexual experience her parents would probably only have grounded her. Hailey couldn't imagine why anyone would want to miss out on this pleasure let alone condemn it. Anna pressed their pussies together and writhed against Hailey for a few seconds so they were both wet then she retreated just far enough to allow her to slide the vibrator sideways between them. They couldn't touch clits this way but they could rub them along the side of the vibrator using whatever pressure they could withstand. Of course they imposed that pressure on the other girl as well so it was just as much a game of slick clit as the less mechanical version. The feelings produced were intense. So strong that neither could withstand them and both began jerking on the bed. Spasms took control of their bodies and words were impossible until exhaustion forced them apart. Neither knew if it was a single long orgasm or one starting immediately after - or even before - another finished. Anna pulled the vibrator out from between them and just dropped it, still buzzing, on the floor. She could always buy new batteries - if she ever got the strength to even get up. Hailey crawled around, pillows ignored under their ankles as they kissed and wept for joy. Then Hailey rested against Anne's shoulder - and copied me. --- Rosalee was the first to get up. She had eased me off of her after a while, my weight being too much of an imposition for more than a few minutes. I settled back down against her and she played with my fringe for a little while before deciding she had to get up. She quietly closed the door behind me. Leaving the bathroom, she listened at Anna's door but all was quiet. "Must be downstairs." Rosalee had pulled the remains of her top down but hadn't picked up a clean pair of panties. It was rather exciting to walk around the house bare-assed (in any house true, but another persons!) and it was only because she knew Ma had been going out almost immediately after we had started that allowed her to dare do so. Even so she listened carefully for any voices or other noise as she crept bent over down the stairs. There was nothing. "Hello?" No reply. Emboldened, Rosalee decided Hailey and Anna must have been in Anna's room after all. She would pop back and check what they were up to but first she would grab a drink. Finding things wasn't too hard - the glasses from breakfast were drying in a rack on the sink and the refrigerator was well stocked. Rosalee straightened and closed the door with a bottle of juice in her hand. "Awk!" If Brent had choked before, he was ready to pass out at the sight of his new housemate standing before him naked for the most part - and what wasn't bare, and in full view, was barely hidden. "Oops. Sorry." Rosalee opened the refrigerator again and stood behind the door. "No. No, that's quite all right, really. Just, unexpected." "Really? So you won't mind if I...?" Rosalee pretended to come out again. "Er,..." Brent looked around. "Where is everyone?" "Upstairs, I think. I was about to check." "Erm, Not that I mind, but is this going to be a regular occurrence now you are staying here?" Rosalee decided to tease him some more. She closed the door and turned to get a glass. He had said he didn't mind, after all! "I doubt it. I don't think your parents would really want me wandering around like this. Want a drink?" "No thanks." Rosalee put the bottle back in the fridge and, after a short streak to the refuge provided by the table, sat down where Brent could only see her odd shirt. "And you and Anna...?" "Yes, me and Anna." Brent didn't know what to say. "And me and Hailey, and Anna and Hailey, and me and Anna and Hailey, and Roger and me, and Roger and me and An..." "I get it. I don't believe it but I get it. I especially don't believe about my parents being so okay." "So how come *YOU* don't have someone yet or is that personal?" "Not really. Just got to concentrate on college and haven't come across anyone who is both available and interested at present. There's time." "Yet *WE* seem to find there is no time to waste." "Hello." Rosalee and Brent turned to find Anna standing at the entrance to the kitchen. "Hi there. I had a cancelled class so I came home to drop my books off and take off to the gym for a while. I have to admit though, I'm tempted to hang around and see if there are any more surprises." "Surprises?" Brent pointed at Rosalee. "I didn't think anyone was around." Rosalee stood up long enough for Anna to see what her brother meant and then sat down again. With Brent standing behind her, Anna lifted her skirt to show Rosalee that she too had less on than she should have. "That was more than I needed to see," objected Brent. "Oops. I didn't think you would notice." "Well I did. I hope if I go up to my room I'm not going to see the others as well." "They're resting," Anna assured him. "How long are you going to be at the gym?" "I'll make sure I phone." "Thanks." He grinned. "Seriously, if you do surprise me at anytime, you don't have to get all embarrassed. I might look and appreciate the view but I'll behave - and I won't mention it to Ma or Dad." "Thanks Brent." "Yeah. We are going to have to have a talk at some stage Sis - you have definitely got to tell me how all this happened one day." Brent headed up to his room and Anna sat on the table with Rosalee making room for Anna to have a leg on either side of her body. "You wear Roger out?" "I had such a lovely time." "Hailey is recovering as well. I think they got even less sleep than us." Rosalee put her hands under Anna's skirt and grabbed her ass cheeks. "I enjoyed what we did - and really enjoyed what Roger did for me." "I wish I'd seen it." "You want to wake him up and see if he can take care of you?" "I want to - I guess I need to recover a little myself first." "Come here then. Let me show you how much I love what you've done for me." Rosalee pulled Anna off the table and onto her lap. The table got pushed back and Anna's bare legs fitted nicely against Rosalee's own bare legs. Since both girls were fit and their legs well developed by a couple of years running around a soccer pitch Anna had to spread her legs wide to fit each side of Rosalee's lap. They kissed as they hugged. "Love your top." "Roger did a good job of trimming off what wasn't needed." "And the rest." "You don't like Slutty?" "On you it looks great - especially without the knickers." "Good thing it was your brother and not your dad - *HE* was ready to have a heart attack!" "I don't mind the idea of giving either of them a shake up but Dad's still getting over me being in bed with Roger. Actually I don't think he'll ever get over that. Roger had his underwear on back the front and I was scrambling for my clothes under the covers!" The were still laughing and kissing when Brent came back down. "Right I'm - Oh hell! Do you know what it is going to me like for me at the gym now? Thinking about the sight of two girls kissing in our kitchen; knowing both are only half-dressed *AND* to have to deal with the fact one of them was my sister!" "Would you rather I got Hailey to take my place? She was only half-dressed as well when I left her." "You can be a real bitch Anna." Brent was smiling though. "I'm almost tempted to take you up on that but I wouldn't be able to go near the gym." "If there are ladies around it might make you popular." "If there are ladies around it might get me tossed out. I'll be heading out afterwards so you needn't worry about me turning up until dinnertime. Bye - and don't get up to anything I wouldn't think about." "Bye Brent." "Goodbye." They waited until they heard him drive away and burst out laughing again. "He has *NEVER* made any boner comments around me before. Not even jokes if he thought I could hear. I think Dad had him scared of what would happen if he corrupted me - or Ma did." "I've never heard any but I used to notice my father from time to time having to get up and move around. When he sat down again 'things' had been rearranged." "Yeah. Brent was real prone to laying on his stomach during certain TV shows like "I Dream of Jeannie" when he was younger. He never thought I noticed him fiddling around." "Seems like he's either going to have to avoid us or get used to us making comments - it's too much fun teasing him to just stop." "More fun teasing Roger." "Shall we then?" "Well I told him to keep you busy until lunchtime and he seems to have let you escape." "I *MUST* have worn him out after all." "I hope not. I had plans of my own after lunch." "I think that's why he's recovering." "Let's see if he need more time then." "Okay." As Anna stood her legs spread either side of Rosalee's lap and Rosalee pressed her fingers into the softness of Anna's pussy. She found the entrance she was looking for and dipped her fingers into the thick juices she found there. Bringing them back, she licked them under Anna's unswerving gaze. "You are delicious." "Thank you love. Hailey says she thinks you taste the nicest though and I'm inclined to agree." "I'm sure that varies but even if you are both right *I* would rather eat either of you than taste myself and I certainly don't see any problem with what I've been offered so far." Rosalee stood as well and they shifted the kitchen furniture back into place. "Let's roger Roger!" "Roger to that!" They groaned and climbed the stairs. I heard them coming and feigned sleep. "Isn't he cute?" Laugh it up ladies; you won't see me for a while and, though you'll have each other and I'll be all alone, I suspect you will still miss me as much as I'm going to miss you. It wouldn't have been much different if I had been the Roger they had imagined they knew and had gone away to college where I couldn't pop home every night or even every weekend. They jumped at me and I came alive before they hit. Instead of pinning me down they found their hands grabbing the bedclothes while I at least managed to seize Anna's wrists if I couldn't secure the both of them. "Sneaky! Pretending to be asleep!" "I was - you just make too much noise coming up the stairs." Not true! "Oh! So we're a couple of hippos are we!?" "Monkeys - chattering monkeys." "Well we want to monkey around with you!" "Yeah! We are looking for bananas." "Looks like Rosy has some nice melons there - perhaps we can have a fruit salad." "Oh so we stoop to big tit jokes do we?" "Don't bite it! Ow! Which part of 'nice melons' offended you?" "Only that you didn't say how much you like Anna's - peaches." "Peaches!" Anna turned on Rosalee and, with a sideways push braced against the floor, easily flipped her over. A couple of fingers inserted up the middle of Rosy's makeshift bra while I held her down and Anna had full access to our laughing, complaining companion. We weren't alone though. Rosalee was making enough noise to mask any normal sounds and Anna was faced away from the doorway. Hailey, hearing their initial boisterous laughter, had come down to my open doorway and spotted Anna kneeling over Rosalee, sucking first one nipple and then the other. Hailey raised a finger to her lips; I was to say nothing. She took a long silent step and then another shorter one which placed her behind Anna's butt. Anna wasn't expecting reinforcements and had left her flank unguarded. Since Anna had not donned her own underwear after leaving Hailey's side and had been fooling around with Rosalee in the kitchen there was nothing to stop Hailey's thumb sliding it's full length in one smooth thrust. "Oh. Nice!" *THEN* she looked around. "I wondered how Roger managed that. Don't stop please, though Rosy might be interested in your other thumb." "Yes please." Anna made room for Rosalee to spread her legs and Hailey briefly removed her thumb so she could swap hands. "I was worried Brent might have returned to the house," Anna told Rosalee - the only one aware he had been back. It was remiss of me not to have noticed but I *WAS* tired. "But he wouldn't have done that to *YOU*! You're his sister." "Well you have to admit he hasn't seen me in this pose before. What do you say Roger? Could you tell us apart from just the view from behind if we were kneeling with our heads down and our tails high?" "I don't know. Do I get to do a taste test?" "Not this time - just visual." "Well there are some differences in hips and butts and lips and hair - both density and shade - but I haven't really seen you that way in what I would consider ideal viewing conditions." "You watched two of us at the lake." "While the third kept me busy. I didn't sit there with a notebook going 'Oh, her pussy is so much hairier or what an attractive brown eye'." "You notice my tits." "With the utmost respect and affection for both you and your tits Rosy, we *ALL* notice them." "True Rose." "He's right sweetheart." "I wasn't complaining. When we're having fun they are usually an asset. I enjoyed my new t-shirt much more than I would have if the shirt had been looser on me." We were inclined to show Rosalee just how much we enjoyed her t-shirt, even when it was pulled up. Anna concentrated on Rosalee's chest while Hailey kept them both going. I was redundant where I was and managed to wriggle off the bed with Anna lifting her knees most of the way across me so I could get out only after suffering from the pressure of bony parts crushing softer bits. "Would you like me to take over there?" I asked Hailey, indicating Anna with my prick as a pointer. "What will I do?" "Are you interested in doing the same for me?" Hailey considered the situation. Daylight, all of us together, a new adventure - and me being gone for a couple of months. Of course she would but with one proviso. "Lock the door first!" Hailey wasn't interested in being interrupted doing something even more outrageous. I smiled and made sure the door was closed *AND* snibbed securely. Then I unrolled a condom down myself and found the tube of lube in my toolbox. "Odd place to keep it." "It's a tool box. I put it on my tool. Strange how?" It was a rhetorical question. A dab on the end of my thumb and I made sure the way ahead was smoothed. A little more and there would be plenty outside and in to ease matters. I slid myself into Anna's waiting cunt and she pressed back firmly against me in turn. I held her hips and thrust into her a couple of times before bending forward across Anna's back. Hailey had touched my asshole before but I don't know if she had such a clear view of it; certainly not of her thumb disappearing into that portal. "Is that okay?" "Lovely. Rest for a while until I'm used to it being there and then start slowly moving it in and out." "It looks strange." Hailey's comment wasn't really a complaint - more an observation. "I think it would strange if you watched Roger fucking me from certain angles." "I wouldn't mind watching either - but after you both make me come please!" Hailey gave Rosalee a quick burst of activity. "Our body parts could have been designed better though - or we could find them a bit nicer to look at." "I think Roger's parts are pretty good," voted Rosalee in opposition to Hailey's platform. "To look at, to hold, to nibble, to use." "Well I'm using his asshole and he doesn't seem to mind." I paused deep in Anna and let the sensations pass through me so I could describe them at least partly accurately. "I can feel Hailey inside me, her thumb feels gigantic but it moves easily and it doesn't hurt. At times it feels like she has pushed it up inside my prick and I am actually only a glove while she is fucking Anna." This sort of narrative pleased Anna, I suspected it would be appreciated by the others as well. "I can feel her wriggling inside now. I wonder if that is what you feel when I wriggle my thumb inside you. Now she's fucking me with it so I guess I shouldn't just stand here, hey Anna?" "No, you shouldn't." Hailey found it easier to oscillate - one thumb going into Rosalee's cunt while the other slid almost out of my ass then a rapid thrust on my side and a little wriggle while she slowly withdrew her thumb on Rosalee's side in preparation for its own thrust and exploration. We hadn't had so much sexercise that we could delay the inevitable by much and I clamped down around Hailey's thickest digit while I filled the rubber protecting Anna. Hailey gave a couple of tugs before deciding she was in there until I relaxed - her efforts only made my release better. Picking up speed with her remaining hand, Hailey combined a thumb fuck with some fingertip dancing around Rosalee's clit and pussy. Rosy came in second. It was a race none of us wanted to win in record time. We all wanted to cross the line of course, but mid-field was better than several lengths ahead of the pack. Still, even bringing up the rear wasn't a bad thing provided one's jockey kept encouraging the mare. Hailey pulled her thumb out with an audible plop and I took that as a signal to apply the whip to a trailing Anna. Our lovemaking had been gentle, now my balls slapped against Anna's pussy as my enduring hardness slid in and out effortlessly. The repeated shock of two sheltered eggs crashing around her clit added just enough to see Anna join us and she gave a triumphant cry against Rosalee's amply padded chest. We relaxed, gasping a little and happy we were able to share the experience. The door opened and Hailey disappeared; I heard water running. I hoped I hadn't disgusted her - when I knew I'd be seeing Mark later I made sure I'd cleaned myself out. There *SHOULDN'T* have been anything to upset her other than the mental image but asses are designed for one thing and when using them for other purposes one runs a risk. At least when she returned Hailey climbed into the tangle and kissed us all without any sign of a problem. There were a couple of problems though. The first were dealt with by Anna and Rosalee heading for a bathroom each. I needed a clean up front and back but could wait and we could all do with an early lunch. Then there was Hailey. She'd been a giver rather than a receiver and we'd all like to change that but she'd also gotten her top wet when she turned the bathroom tap on too fast. "It was stuck." "I probably turned it off too tightly. Sorry." I opened my wardrobe and took out the white long-sleeved shirt I'd worn at work in the Coffee Shop. "Why not try this on? It will be rather sexy." "Oh you like me sexy? You prefer that to me fucking you up the ass?" "If you put it on I'll have had both." "Would you fuck me up the ass then?" "If you like." "I'll think about it. I might have to think about it a lot - until you return. Will you think about fucking my poor little ass while you are away?" I laughed - as if I'd have a chance to do anything else now. "Why do you think I wasn't going to anyway?" It was Hailey's turn to laugh. I helped her out of her top. Like Anna, Hailey hadn't bothered putting her panties back on and she waited while I removed her still dry bra as well. "The shirt will make me look sexier than I do standing here like this?" I surveyed her naked form. "Hard to believe I know but trust me." Hailey held her arms out behind her and I slid the sleeves along them as though I was a butler fitting his master's jacket. I turned Hailey to face the mirror as the others returned. "There!" "Show us," Rosalee cried and, after waiting a few second for Hailey to satisfy herself that the sight was appealing, I turned Hailey back around for the others to see. "Scrumptious!" "Yeah Hailey, you look good enough to eat!" Anna added. "Let's debate that while we get something else to eat," I suggested and with only a little effort I got them headed downstairs while I took my own turn in the bathroom. When I appeared in my boxers and another, more casual, shirt worn similarly to Hailey's there was some protest about me covering up. "The buttons are all open - if you make anything interesting happen you are going to see it." My argument was accepted though all three of them then saw it as a challenge to get a reaction out of me - without touching my boxers with their hands. Anna organised a simple lunch for us from what was available, each of us willing lieutenants in the process. It was an effort that saw me kissed and hugged and assaulted in various ways. Bare buts brushed the front of my shorts, bare bushes the back. Bare breasts pressed against my front *AND* back. Anna's dress lay to one side as she roamed the kitchen naked. I was sandwiched between different pairs and at one stage between all three of them. It wasn't a one-sided attack by any means. The girls abided by Anna's restriction but I was under no similar constraint. When a butt pressed back into me, a finger reached under to check how wet my lady love was and, if possible, worked briefly to make her wetter. Another then might get to taste those damp fingers before our lips pressed together for a kiss. The girls didn't neglect each other either! Moving around, I briefly held each in turn as they worked; my arms wrapped around so I could cup their breasts while I nibbled on neck or earlobe. What chance did I have when they could feel my resolve weakening as my member grew harder? "It's sticking out!" cried Rosalee. Their attention made the show of flesh even more obvious and I was only saved by the need for us to sit to eat. There were a range of salads; some made fresh, others left over from dinner the night before. Anna had reason to be proud and we told her so. Her skill at producing something worthy to offer to others did not go unrecognised nor unappreciated. I doubt a guest looking at her young naked body would have worried much about the food though. We sat, but almost immediately Anna dropped her fork and climbed under the table. When she did not surface Hailey asked, "Yvonne?" "Yvonne," I confirmed. Hailey's younger sister had deliberately dropped her cutlery in an attempt to see what was happening under the table. Anna had done so to *MAKE* something happen. "Is it good?" asked Rosalee. "Oh yes. It's good." "I hope you bring enough for all of us then," cautioned Rosalee. "If you didn't, Anna better make sure she eats it all up if she wants any dessert," added Hailey. Anna smothered a giggle around a mouthful of prick. "Yes, don't forget all the starving boys and girls around the world who don't have a prick to suck on!" - from Rosalee. A guffaw this time. There was a pause in the conversation as we ate. "Oh. Hello Mrs Jam - sorry, Ma." Hailey sounded so sincere that Anna stopped long enough to realise her mother would have said something. She slowly sunk her teeth into my shaft. "I didn't say it! Why punish me?" Anna climbed back into her chair. "Because you kept me in suspense. Now you can wonder if I'm going to finish it for you." "Weak bluff love, when Rosy and I are here to takeover." "Whatever happened to 'United We Stand'?" "United we bend forward a bit maybe but stand? Certainly not straight." I had a pinch of peas mixed with corn kernels thrown at my face; most rebounded onto my plate. "I don't think we should start a food fight - I'd much rather wrestle with you anyway." Three young ladies suddenly looked at me with unholy interest. "*AFTER* we've eaten!" That didn't seem to help. We sat there together; just eating and chatting; fooling around with no overt sexual contact now Anna was eating her own lunch. There was plenty of innuendo and lewd comment and the young ladies gave me plenty to consider, even just above the table top. I had some things to say but I gave us all time to eat near our fill before I started. I wondered if the others noticed I had taken only small portions; with foreknowledge of what I wanted to say I couldn't eat very much. "That was delicious. I have a few things I need to say to you all and this seems as good a time as I'm going to have so please bear with me." Forks were placed on plates - appetites had suddenly vanished. "There is nothing different to what I told you before. I have to go for a couple of months but I will be back and I will arrange some way to get emails through. I *WILL* have to go again though but I'll try to spend as much time with you as possible. "A lot of things can happen in a couple of months though - look at what has happened in the last one. The first thing I want to reassure you is that I will not be seeking out female companionship while I am away." I only hoped that didn't sound as pompous and self- involved to the others as it did to me! I might be assigned companions or might need to get close to my targets again but I would be sticking to the strict needs of the job with no adlibbing this time. If I could finish the job without having sex I would and realistically there weren't too many jobs where there was both the opportunity *AND* need to sleep with someone crucial to the task at hand. I didn't think it would be a difficult promise to keep yet I still worded it so I could remain constant to the letter of my pledge. "I realise that things here are going to be somewhat different. Firstly there is going to be some gossip about Rosalee and Hailey. There are people dealing with your home situations as we speak. I don't know any more than last night but they will control what your parents tell people I am sure." "Who are they - those people? And why are they bothering?" "Because I have certain information tucked away up here..." I tapped the side of my head. "Information they need me to trot out at the appropriate time as they manage to track down people they are interested in." I meant the training that had been given me but I had to make the household believe I would testify at some future court case. "Things shouldn't have gotten messy here but they did and though it is partly my fault, my keepers are willing to pull some strings and bend some arms to clean it up." "Our parents' arms," said Hailey. "Yes. Now they aren't going to make it impossible for you to rebuild bridges with your families but what they will do is see you've got a safe roof over your head and a chance to finish school and go onto college if you want. If you decide you can't stay with Anna's family for any reason then other arrangements can be made. I know you might want to be with me but you are better off being here. Court cases can go on for months and witnesses might hang around for days waiting to be called or called back. "Still, living safely here you are going to face stresses. As I started saying, you are going to need to work out how you want to portray your reasons for leaving home. If it is easier to blame me - for whatever cause - do it. I'll be the least vulnerable of you all. You have to think about how you treat each other though." "How do you mean?" "Like in front of Stephanie. She is not going to say anything as far as I can tell. I think she values her own privacy. But you either have to all be 'Out' or all stay in the closet. I can't see two of you admitting to be more than friends and have you hanging out with the third person in a strictly soccer team friends manner - and *ONE* person coming out just doesn't work." "It would be hard. People are still funny at times." "Well we're not one of the big West Coast or East Coast cities like San Francisco or New York. Concepts like accepting lesbians and bisexuals take a while to drift out here. Anna's going to be at school depending on her friends for day-to-day support while she's not at home. You other two will have each other but that might only make matters worse if you admit to being sexually active together. You are going to have a better understanding than me of what is likely to happen." I took a sip of my drink. I'd been talking for a while, yet for now I had a rapt audience. "It wouldn't go down too well; more with the staff than the girls though. Most girls would look upon it as a rebellion against what the school keeps telling us." Anna's opinion differed from Rosalee's. "I think I would have trouble with all but one of my friends - not that I've seen much of them outside of school for the last two weeks. They blame that on Roger though - and cheer me on!" The three of them would have to work out how to mesh old friends and new lovers socially. I wouldn't be around and I didn't know if that mattered. I might be the bedrock upon which their interrelationships were based, the glue that held us all together - or perhaps just the icing on the top. I tried not to imagine that everything revolved around me as there was ample evidence on Anna's part at least that the bonds with the others were just as strong. "I do want you to appreciate one thing though. There will be times when we feel left out or our feelings get hurt and we withdraw. It happens with couples, it's only going to be worse at times with three or four of us around. We need to talk and one matter we have to be honest about is if we fall for someone else." "You're not looking for an out already are you?" Hailey sounded worried. "I've said I want to be here for as long as I'm wanted. If that changes for any reason I will tell you as soon as I realise it. I saw my mother struggle to deal with her love life; I don't want to do the same. I might fall out of love; I don't know if that is possible 'cause I was never in love before, but I saw how my mother fell out of respect - for others and for herself - and I don't want to see that happen with us. "None of us can control who we love. We can control how we love. All I ask is that we respect each other enough to remain honest and perhaps we can be friends regardless of how clichd that sounds." "You really think we're going to go out and find a Stephanie or someone else as soon as you leave?" Rosalee sounded hurt and perhaps angry. "No and if that was how it came across I've botched things up. I meant to say we are human; people change - and it doesn't have to be in the next couple of months. If it happens I might be hurt and miss you but I won't hate you or fly into a rage. I don't plan to put myself in a situation where I'll have an opportunity to be tempted. I've got plenty to remember over..." I made a loose fist which got Anna smiling. "...so I don't think I'll feel the need anyway." "If we have time to wear you out before you go it won't be an issue either." Now that was the Rosalee I loved! "Not a lot of time for that sorry. I found out this morning that I have to go tonight." "Tonight!" "And you said nothing?" "What time?" "We wasted time sleeping!" "I didn't want to spoil our remaining time." "Then why tell us now?" "So we don't have to rush saying goodbye. It's going to be hard leaving you anyway. How will it look if I'm bawling my eyes out?" That changed matters from the girls looking like they might cry to them poking fun at me. "Shall we clean things up?" asked Hailey. "You're just in a hurry because we get to gang up on you next!" "That's not true Roger!" "What? That it isn't your turn or you aren't in a hurry?" Hailey ignored me and began picking up the dirty dishes. The doorbell rang and we looked at each other. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Day Of No Triffids Part: Chapter 1 Summary: In a world gone blind a few remaining sighted must try to preserve what they can but how will just 6 men manage to keep 400 women happy? Keywords: MF, mF (nosex), first, rom Language: English Copyright: 2003 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* ************************************************* * The story intentionally moves around a bit in * * the first chapter to blend both background & * * action. I hope it works this way. * ************************************************* *** August 28, Late Morning - Len It WAS only a fantasy. She was his son's age after all. Hell, his wife used to baby-sit her! Still it was nice to think about her, and what they could do together. No longer jailbait, she had turned out to be an attractive young woman and her sense of humour and carefree attitude contrasted with a wife who, though loved and loving, had become less adventurous and a convenience rather than someone who got his pulse racing. Kara was the first on his list. *** July & August It was only the fact that it hit some major population centres ahead of others that gave the world any inkling of the nature and extent of the problem. As it spread via the worlds transport hubs, Singapore and Frankfurt fell silent just before London, Hong Kong, Los Angeles and New York. A number of brave reporters around the world continued to tell the story as their personal worlds went dark. The worlds infrastructures only kept running on automatic for a day or so after technicians failed to report for their shifts; this was enough to pass on the message that the world was going blind and it didn't look (pun DEFINITELY NOT intended) likely that many would remain unaffected. *** August 28, Late Morning - Len It was only reasonable to include his wife's best friend; he had fancied her for a while and got on well with her husband who fortunately was a veterinary surgeon with several years experience dealing with livestock before his wife convinced him to bring her back to the city. Life could be boring without someone compatible to talk to and, though he felt they were not as useful as some, they did give him someone he respected to bounce his thoughts off and maybe, just maybe ... Keith and Deirdre made three. *** August 5 The first reports of an international epidemic that caused irreversible blindness resulted in a panic that brought air travel to an immediate standstill. It was too late! The incubation period was such that doctors had no chance to stop each victim infecting dozens, if not hundreds, of others with the minor cough that preceded the more serious symptoms. In the worst case it passed through seven generations of carriers before the first person sought help for her failing sight. That was enough to ensure that nearly everyone outside the third world countries harboured the infection before it was apparent an infection existed. With a remarkably consistent period between the initial infection and the onset of blindness, the effect was like watching a tsunami from the shore. The tide first ebbing as people began to disappear in ever greater numbers; every hospital trying vainly to cope with the impossible situation. Then the dark line across the horizon began to thicken and the wave of victims no longer even trying to get to the unavailable medicos grew in height. It finally swept over civilisation and tried to wipe it from the face of the Earth. *** August 27, Evening - Len When did he realise he was one of the "lucky" ones? With the rest of the world, Len had been hawking and dry retching on and off for weeks. When this was linked to the blindness he, like everyone else, feared and expected the worst. But he knew enough genetics to suspect the truth when he found some of his siblings and offspring also retained their sight. Three of his four children were still able to see, as were his sister and one of her three, and his younger brother with one of his four; his two older brothers and their families were not lucky, like everyone else (including his wife and in-laws) they had gone blind. With some sentiment, he felt he had to include the families of the sighted if he was to get their help but couldn't justify his older brothers or their families. He didn't know whether it was his late Father or Mother who had supplied the dominant gene that gave them their resistance but it was obvious that it didn't flow through those two lines. His wife and daughter, his brother-in-law and sister-in- law and five nephews and nieces. That meant that there were nine blind and eight sighted from the three families. *** August 28, Morning - Len & sons He sat down with his three sons and explained things to them. "As you know things are pretty well stuffed. Almost everyone is blind and in a few days they are going to start dying so we have to find somewhere safe to set ourselves up. "Your Aunt Deb and Uncle Seth are bringing their families around to join us but it's going to be hard. "If we are going to survive we need to have as many children as possible - children that can see. It looks like our family has a gene that prevents the blindness even though we got the cough and if I'm right half of our children will carry that gene. "I know you're still a bit young but you are all old enough to be fathers and you are going to have to have several wives each." The three boys looked at each other with silly grins on their faces. The oldest at 19, Peter, knew his 17 year old brother Michael had been cautioned by his father only a month earlier to try to avoid sexual involvements until he had finished High School. Well, it looked like he had now. He glanced at the 14 year old David who hadn't progressed past wet dreams; to be given a green light to fulfil his adolescent urges was unbelievable. Peter returned his attention to his Father's continuing speech; he at least appreciated the serious nature of what was being proposed, he would think about the wilder aspects a little later. "I expect you already know some girls who you like and it's possible that they may be willing to become the mothers of your children. I want you to think about these points - I don't have all the answers so how about we start here and see how we go. "Okay Number 1. We don't force anyone. We explain what we expect and how we will look after them as best we can. If they don't want to come when we point out their only other choice is to be left to die we have to respect that." "Is it okay to bring them here if they are hysterical and let them make the decision later?" asked Peter. His father looked uncertain. Many people may be just like that. "I suppose so. If you can do it without hurting them. You really need to try to coax them. I expect we'll be together so we might need to see how things go, okay?" "Okay Dad." "Number 2 then. It's important that the women can have a number of children so they shouldn't be too old. I think that we try to find women no older than 25 except in some special circumstances I will cover. Similarly it won't be good for them to be too young; we could have a baby born while we are waiting for them to be old enough." There were no questions. None of the boys could see themselves being interested in anyone THAT old anyway. Especially if they could get their pick of the rest. "Number 3. We will need to keep track of who the father of each baby is. I don't know yet if we will have to share the women to spread our genes but to start with we should stick to our own women. "Number 4. We need to have a number of experts to help us. Obviously doctors or nurses or midwives who can instruct us in delivering babies. I know of a vet who will be able to help us when we get some animals and there are likely to be others. "If it is possible to get a woman who has these skill but is a bit older than 25 then those skills makes up for having fewer babies. If necessary we can get a man with those skills but they are not going to be able to have children who can see. Women will be better. "I want you to make a list of girls or women you want with their addresses if possible. We won't have a lot of time if we are going to find them healthy. I want to set out as soon as Deb and Seth get here. Any questions?" "How many women Dad?" "I would like to say a thousand each but I don't think we can keep even a hundred each fed and healthy. I don't know how many we can gather before they die but I think we are better to get too many and have to lose a few, heartless though that sounds, than to have too few. They are only going to die if we DON'T do anything. "Put your wish lists together with as many names as you want but I think we can probably only make special arrangements for a dozen or so. "With only six males who can see that could be over 70 women not counting those with skills or our three families, and we have four girls of our own, including your sister, who will need you three boys and Deb's Barry to pair with. If we can manage more of your choices we will try to get them but skills are going to be important I'm afraid." "So you have to have several wives too. What does Mum say about that?" "I haven't spoken to her yet but she will have to go along with it. Our only other choice is to roll over and die with everyone else." David made a relevant observation. "Where are we going to live? We can't have that many people here." Len looked at his sons. "To start with I thought we could take over St Ignatius' School. There are boarding facilities there and we can fill up the gymnasium until we get things sorted out. There is a wall around the grounds so we can keep stray dogs out, which is likely to be more and more of a problem, and stray people in. If you know of anywhere better or any other ideas or problems let me know." He sent them off to make their lists while he reviewed some of his own. *** August 28, Late Morning - Len Len had added a couple more "fantasy" choices, hoping they didn't appear on any of his sons' lists. He concentrated instead on those occupations he felt would be useful. He was old enough to appreciate there was more to a woman than just good looks and male enough to realise that given a choice of two who met his needs there was no-one to object to him picking the one who turned him on more. Police? No. Fireman? Maybe. Nah! Paramedic? Consider a range of medical personnel. Nurses and doctors wouldn't be able to see the problem but may be able to ask questions and interpret the answers. Paediatricians and Gynaecologists definitely. General Practitioners and Surgeons. Hmm? How many people were still in the hospitals? They would HAVE to hurry. At least they could access staff records. The same with schools; Teachers would be handy but what sort? Much of the material could be taken from books - if you knew what they meant. It would be useful to have someone knowledgeable to explain things. How far were they prepared to let civilisation slide? The information they discarded might be that which could end up killing them. It all gave him a headache. Ah! Pharmacists. And what of the blind in their care. How would they cope? Could he find someone previously blind to assist their instruction. He knew that there was more than just the stereotypical basket weaving available but just what? The list grew. *** August 28, 11:45 pm - David It wasn't nerves but rather an impatience and an excess of curiosity that was David's downfall. He creamed his jeans well before he was to make his first "conquest". She was waiting in "his" room, still sitting on the side of the bed where he had left her after leading her by the hand from the gymnasium. He had quickly sat her down before making an embarrassed dash for the bathroom to clean himself up. They had taken over some of the teacher's rooms for themselves and had set up a roster to ensure someone was available to keep an eye on those in the gym; the rest could finally relax alone or with spouse or chosen "playmate". The woman had been quietly weeping and David sat next to her and put his arm around her. "Don't cry. You're safe here. I'll look after you." That was really the point. She knew she would have no chance "outside" and had willingly agreed to join the group on the conditions given but that purely logical decision didn't prevent the emotional reaction that set in when the fourteen year old boy had led his twenty-two year old teacher away from the others. "I really like you", she heard. "I have for ages. You're really pretty and you've always been nice to me at school." While the last point was true enough, she had been friendly towards many of her students. David was a courteous and intelligent youth, but that was all ..., until he and his father had turned up at her apartment and explained her choices. No-one really wants to die. She had been alone for a few months since her boyfriend had decided he wasn't quite ready to commit to a long- term relationship. Ha! Depending on how you looked at it, the relationship could have lasted only another six months anyway or for the rest of his life! Other than parents and a brother living too far away, she had no ties (He had taken his cat and she had been too busy to consider a replacement) and had agreed to go with them without realizing it was David who had selected her. Now it was crunch time and David was talking to her as he rubbed his hand up and down her back. "I know you might not think much of me because I'm so young but Dad says we need to have as many babies to survive and I need to help. I've never gotten anywhere with a girl before so I need to learn what to do. You've been my teacher so will you teach me this too?" Victoria, still stressed but realizing the mores she had lived under had vanished with her civilization, could do nothing but nod her head and quietly whisper, "Yes. I will teach you." She put her hand on David's leg and found herself touching skin. She awkwardly moved it up expecting to make contact with his underwear but instead found her fingers brushing a lightly furred sack. "Er, I got a bit excited. Sorry." It was hard to explain the experience of jets of semen soaking through his clothes to the woman that up until a few days ago had been marking his Geography papers. "Perhaps we should get undressed", she suggested. David helped her stand and self-consciously put his arms around her. She was slightly taller than him so he rested his cheek against her chest as he told her that he wanted to learn everything to make babies and to make her happy. He didn't know whether he should say he loved her; he had had a crush on her for a long while but didn't know what he would do if she laughed at him. Victoria put her arms around the lad; "No! 'young man'", she firmly told herself, "I'm not a child molester! In some societies 14 year olds were considered adults; ours is now apparently one of them." "You know", she told David, "A teacher is supposed to be one of the best lovers you can get because she makes you do it over and over again until you get it right." She bent her head and kissed him on the forehead then tilted his face and found his lips with hers. Other than a childish kiss years ago and a few attempts with his cousin Rachel before she got snooty towards him, David hadn't really kissed a girl. The feel of Victoria's soft lips against his and her arms around him made his penis even harder and he was worried he might shoot his load again. Victoria though was going to take things one step at a time. If she WAS going to teach him she planned to teach him her way; the other women he eventually paired up with would be grateful if he learned to be a considerate lover who took the time to pleasure each one before taking his own pleasure. In different circumstances they could have found themselves being brutalised and if they had to live as his harem then maybe she could also end up as the "Sultan's favourite". "You had better call me Vicki. Ms Baker is going to sound silly." She reached down and took hold of the firm cock and kissed him again. There was a yell somewhere in the building but she immediately realised it was not a cry for help nor a warning of danger; she apparently wasn't the only one singled out tonight. *** August 28, Early Afternoon - Len When Len reviewed the boys lists he was pleased to see Peter had also listed some professions, with reasons for some, as well as some desired companions. He had gone through the phone book and put down the likely addresses with some alternatives or links to people who would know. Michael had confined himself to girls in his own year with a sprinkling of those a year ahead or behind. He had, with some embarrassment, also specified the name of one of his cousins that he preferred over the others. If he HAD to make his choice of the three female cousins that were "on offer" he wanted to avoid one and was ambivalent about the third. He figured that if he got his choice in first he might be luckier than if he waited. David's choices were a bit of a surprise. At 13 or 14 most of the girls he knew were under the bottom age limit Len had set. He put down half a dozen that were a year ahead of him and then included three of his young teachers and the older (18 or 19) sisters of some of his friends. Len wasn't too sure whether his youngest son was overly ambitious but was pleased to note his own special selections were omitted from all three lists. *** August 28, 12:20 pm They hadn't been at the school long, only having had time to commandeer the gymnasium before Deb had arrived with her husband Stan and her three children; Barry at 17 assisted his blind sister Stella (16) and brother Walter (14) from their car and followed his parents inside. Len had explained his ideas to Deb and Seth while the mobile phone service was still operating and Deb had sat Barry down and explained it in much the same way as he had. She sent him off with Len while she looked after the others and waited for her other, and soon to be sole remaining, brother. ----- Len's nephew Barry made out his own list while he drove them through the silent roads to the bus depot. As they heard the noise of the vehicle, people would come out of their front doors and wave frantically, afraid to be missed but afraid also to move away from their only familiar source of shelter in a world gone crazy. "They were doing the same thing when we drove over", said Barry. "We may need a megaphone to get them to stay inside", said Michael. "It seems cruel to lie to them but if we tell them help is coming and to wait inside, we may have a better chance of rescuing more of them." Peter nodded his agreement with his brother. "You might get that at a Police station." "Yes", agreed Len, "and we can pick up some fire arms there too. Once the dogs get hungry they will probably turn on people and each other - imagine how many there are likely to be in just this city." Peter shuddered. He had witnessed a friend being attacked when younger and the scars in his mind were no less real than the scars on his friend's face and arm. Len decided to visit the police station first. He needed something that would allow him to move up to 40 people at once and didn't know what guard dogs or even crazy people he would find on the way. Those people whose employment was not deemed essential had been instructed to stay home, keeping the streets remarkably clear. Those who had heard the first reports but not the final ones were in the main optimistically waiting for assistance to come or had pessimistically avoided a lingering death by starvation. The few who had tuned to the stations that broadcast the latest information in many cases indulged in a drunken or lustful orgy, determined to go out with a bang rather than a whimper. Those people providing essential services such as the police or hospitals found the light suddenly fade, an eclipse that struck without warning or remission where- ever the person was and with little opportunity for their workmates to assist before they too succumbed. The shift on duty at the Police Station when the tsunami of darkness washed over the city had been unable to leave. It was hard to realise that it had been only six hours since the last of them (a homeless drunk in the cells) had lost his sight. Len and the four youths gingerly entered the front door, wary of the response they could get. There were only two officers on duty and Len addressed them from the counter. "Good afternoon officers. I know you can't see me and you may not be aware of what has been happening." "We've got a pretty good idea. Who are you and what do you want?" The lie came easier than he thought it would. "My name is Len Pike and I'm here with the Department for Disease Control trying to stabilise this area. We only have a few people who have not been affected and what's left of the government has deputised them to assist its agents. I got stuck with the job for this district." "What are you here for? Are you going to fix us up?" "I'm not a doctor, I'm just trying to collect people for them to treat. I need to check how many people are here and arrange for transport." The policeman seemed to relax a little in the knowledge that SOMEONE was doing SOMETHING about this. It had been rather stressful just sitting there without a clear awareness of the time and he was unconsciously ignoring any holes that appeared in Len's story. "If you would please stay put, my assistants and I will just get people organised. You could assist me though. Everything has happened in a bit of a rush and we are still getting supplies together. Do you have a bull horn that I could use and can I use your public address system to speak to the people in the building?" "There's a half dozen bull horns in the cupboard back there ..." Len waved the boys to check them when the officer passed him a ring of keys from a hook on his belt. "... and I think this is still working." He fumbled around his desk, grabbing the microphone on the second attempt. He flicked a switch and an echo of his drumming finger could just be heard. "Can I have your attention please. There is an important announcement." He moved so Len could access the mike. "Good afternoon", started Len. "Representatives of the Department for Disease Control will shortly be returning to take you for treatment. I apologise that I am not able to go through your normal chain of command at this time but will do so when I return." The keys had unlocked the fire arms cupboard as well and each boy had silently carried a couple of rifles as well as some hand guns and ammunition out to the car before returning to get a bull horn each. Len put the keys on top of the cupboard rather than returning them to the officer. By the time they found a reason to visit again it was likely that the officer would no longer need them. "Thank you", he said, "we will be back when we have suitable transport." Without waiting for comment or questions about his lies Len turned and followed the boys back to the car. *** August 28, 1:30 pm Len pulled the bus up at the Emergency Entrance of the hospital. Barry pulled up behind him with a squeal of brakes in another. Driving a bus was a novel experience for both of them. Michael drove more sedately into the car park and got out with David. The young boy had been using his deepest voice over a bull horn to advise people along the way to wait inside until they heard an announcement to come out to be taken for treatment. Peter had been sent with a third bus to collect their families and take them to the school. He was then to take Uncle Seth and Nancy to find a truck to collect some essential supplies - bedding, spring water and some simple food - sliced bread and sandwich meat that would be stale in a day so should be used while it was available. Len made a similar announcement at the hospital but advised that certain staff would be taken for treatment first so that they could then assist in treating others. With no admissions or operations possible, staff were tending to remain in their offices or at station except to find a bedpan for a bedridden patient or to bring a drink where possible. Staff and patient alike were relieved to hear help had arrived. Len led the boys through the hospital to the pharmacy where he found a young woman sitting sobbing at a desk. She had been crying in despair and now heaved with relief. She was in her early twenties and met their need for a Pharmacist. "Hello. Are you ready to go?" She looked around in surprise, turning her unseeing eyes in the direction of the voice. "Y-Y-Yes." "Are you in charge here?" Len asked. "For this shift." She allowed him to take her arm to assist her to her feet. "Well actually for the last shift as well I suppose; no-one has come and I can't go anywhere like this." "As you can imagine, we have quite a few people who are rather distressed. Do you have something that would be safe to give them to calm them down? Unfortunately we don't have the doctors available yet to see to them." Unused to prescribing, the woman never-the-less knew her field and was able to suggest a couple of drugs that had no ill side effects during short-term treatment. She told Len and repeated the dosage information then suggested where he would find them. Her own state of mind permitted her to be more useful than normal towards an outsider in her dispensary. Michael led her back to the bus where she was seated by David who asked her for her name, date of birth, home address, marital status, profession and allergies which he duly recorded as he had been instructed. If they were going to have over a hundred people to look after they had to start somewhere in keeping track of them. David wrote out a nametag for "Teri" and took pleasure in pressing it against her breast. It was the first time he had copped a feel and, though only a brief press, it was enough to give him an erection as he stared down the blouse of the unaware woman. He wondered if he could keep her; she looked nice. In ones, twos and occasionally threes Michael and Barry shunted young doctors and nurses, and a few young patients who had only been admitted because of their blindness, until the buses were filled. Each had been given a tablet "to start the treatment" before they had been led to the buses. Len didn't know whether he should be thankful he didn't have any means other than a bullet or a knife to "treat" those he couldn't save or whether he was going to throw up whenever he thought of them slowly starving or desperately seeking their own termination. It was easier when he hadn't seen them. He addressed the second bus before repeating the spiel on his own. "If you would please hold on we will be taking you to the treatment facility. It is a short ride but you will need to hold on tight. Full explanations will be available there." Barry followed Michael to the school with his uncle driving in the same direction shortly afterwards. *** August 28, 3:00 pm "I have to apologise to you but the actual situation is far more serious that we could tell to the whole hospital. We have brought you out here to explain. Please let me finish before asking questions then I ask you to raise your hand and let me come to you before you speak. I will answer ALL you questions truthfully at that time." They had moved the various medical practitioners into the gymnasium and seated them on the mattresses hastily strewn around. Len was being left in charge by his siblings, a role he reluctantly accepted for now. "As I said, the situation is worse than that portrayed. There currently is no treatment and I do not believe that there will be one." There were gasps, sobs and more than a few angry shouts. Len let them go for a while then called for a silence that he eventually got. "At present there are a total of 8 sighted people known to exist in this city. They are all members of my family and the indication is that some of us carry a dominant gene which stops the coughing disease causing blindness. We may eventually find others but that is all we have to work with at this stage. "We believe that the only way that we can survive long term is to have sufficient sighted children to allow us to build a sustainable population. This requires the 8 sighted people to work to support those of you willing to bear those children." There were more gasps, sobs and yet angrier shouts as the proposal sunk in. Len let this go again until he could again take control. Ignoring the shouts he asked that questions be kept until he had finished. "I realise that some of you will not for one reason or another wish to join with us. You will not be forced to. However I must point out that you have no other salvation likely; unless you take your own lives you are likely to succumb to starvation. I hope you prefer to live." With his pause some hands were tentatively raised. Len took that as an opportunity to involve the women. "I will now take questions if you would please raise your hands." He went to the first one and read her name tag as he touched her hand. "Yes Monica?" She lowered her arm. "What happens to those who don't want to join you?" "They will be taken back to the hospital and left where they came from." Monica squeezed in a supplementary question. "Can they be taken to their homes?" "If there are only a couple that MIGHT be possible but if we have a lot of people we won't be able to spare the time. Sorry." He moved to the next one. "Naomi" "What about my husband and child?" "I'm sorry there too. We are going to try to support as many women as possible in the hope of getting a sustainable population of sighted people. Unless we find someone with a valuable skill we will be restricting those people we pick up to young women only. We won't be able to take your husband unless he can demonstrate a skill but we can try to collect any daughters aged 15 or older on the understanding that they bear children as well. "We aren't monsters and if you think you have some special circumstance we will try to give you a hearing though it may not be long. If you do know of anyone who was blind previously who can teach you how to manage your condition please let me know later." A few people apparently had received answers to their questions and had put their hands down. "Sandra" Sandra started as Len touched her hand and it was a little while before she began to speak. "What actually will happen to those who stay?" "It's very early days so things could change but I see it like this at the moment: "Each of the six sighted males who appear to bear the dominant gene will be assigned a number of women who will bear a child probably every year and a half while she is able. It is hoped that approximately half of those will be sighted. "The blind females will be able to bear children in turn provided we can support them for the first fifteen years, as for any blind males we may not be able to support them. That will depend on our resources and how we are able to teach you and them to overcome your blindness." Quite a few more hands shot up and Len picked one of them since it was likely to be a follow on question. "Aneka" "How will we be assigned to the males?" "I don't expect us to have to start mass impregnations immediately so there will be time for you to get to know each of us and vice versa. I suppose that you will get to put your preferences down as do we and where they coincide everything is easy. If not there may have to be some negotiation. It may be that you put up with a bit of sex with your designated partner until you get pregnant. I need to have a talk with those of you who can discuss the amount of genetic variation we need. It may be necessary for you to have a child by each of us - I don't really know everything at this stage." "Tara" "What about sex when we aren't trying to get pregnant? Are we going to be a harem only getting screwed once or twice then nothing for eighteen months? Aren't there any other men? And you said there were eight sighted people so two must be females - what about them then?" "The two sighted women are my sister Deborah and my niece Nancy. One of Deb's sons, Barry, some of you have already met. Her daughter Stella is in the same boat as you. Her other son Walter and Nancy's brother Graham are unfortunately blind. If we are able, with your assistance, to make sure they are firing blanks, then you should be able to call upon their services to keep you happy. "If Nancy, and indeed Deb, want to try to increase our sighted numbers that's up to them but realistically they are more valuable as sighted members of our community than as mothers. They can get food or other supplies or help defend us while we can find anyone to bear children. "I don't want you to think that that means we don't value you; we do and doubly so because of your professional skills. Unfortunately certain survival skills have just shot to the top of the 'must have' list. "As far as sex is concerned I have said you will not be forced. You may wish to consider the needs of those who are going to be doing their darnedest to keep you alive and comfortable however and try to express your thanks that way. "There will be rules for all of us and one will basically be 'If it feels good you can do it'. That doesn't mean whatever 'it' is will be compulsory but it also means you can't object to others indulging in what they feel is okay. Thus with so many women and so few men no-one is to get upset if a woman makes a pass at another woman. You can say no but you can't get nasty. "I want you to take a while to think things over; discuss it with those around you. It may sound heartless but for those of you who feel you made a marriage vow that stops you accepting, please consider that we can't save your husbands in other than the most exceptional cases and in a few days you are likely to be widows." That brought a few more sobs but the majority of the women seemed to have realised that and had been halfway resigned to their own demise. "One last question for now - Debra." "What happens to the patients in the hospital and the other staff? How can you let them just starve?" "I don't like it either. If you have an alternative I will consider it but there really isn't enough time to provide a humane release to the millions of people around here while at the same time trying to save as many as possible. "I will give you some time now to collect your thoughts. If you have questions Nancy will take them and I will give you the answers when I return. I will need to know then whether you really can't join us, are prepared to join us or think you have a special case. I warn you though that I won't be happy if you lie to me just to try to get a husband or child added to our community." Len looked over the 84 women they had brought here as they tried to find out what those close by thought. He had brought more then really needed for the skills they had but they were all intelligent young healthy females and would make excellent brood mares though he would be careful never to describe them as such. *** August 28, 11:30 pm - Len Joanna hadn't taken it well that morning when she found her husband had planned to modify his wedding vows more than just a little. Oh, he was still offering to look after her in "sickness and in health" but the "forsaking all others" was going right out the window. Len restrained himself even though he was tempted to point out that by simply leaving her alone at their home he would only have to wait a few days until it was a case of "till death us do part". He couldn't have done it and didn't really want to upset her further. He hadn't had time since then to sit down with her and talk it over and wasn't sure it would do much good. He probably shouldn't have mentioned his plan to pick up Kara. It was okay while his wife thought she was going to be a partner for one of the boys but ... And he didn't really want Joanna to feel she was being traded in. The sighted had spent the day shunting more and more women into the school and getting necessary supplies. The gym was one big dormitory and they had had to rig knotted ropes across the room to allow the women to take themselves to the bathroom and to find their way back again. It was his blind daughter Ellen who had actually come up with the solution. At regular intervals three knots were tied into the rope; if you felt a single then the double you knew you were heading towards the bathroom and vice versa. A pillar indicated where the rows of mattresses spread out sideways but unfortunately the women then had to crawl along the floor counting mattresses until they found theirs. It wasn't perfect and one sighted person was kept busy attending to those lost women standing waving their arms for attention; there was too much din for anyone to have been heard and the bull horns got plenty of use restoring order from time to time. Len was happy to get out of it for a while and was guiltily grateful to his sister Deb and their niece Nancy who had been left to fend for most of the day. They had both gotten to join him on the last trip of the day where he had taken them to pick up a couple of personal friends each. While Deb's might not contribute much to the future of their community they would help keep her sane in this maddening new world. Nancy's at least were breeding stock even if he personally found their conversation somewhat juvenile and annoying; maybe the boys would think differently. Peter and Barry got to stand the rest of the night shift with Nancy and her father Seth rostered on for breakfast. Len dreaded the idea of the morning piss parade. Joanna was waiting for him in their room. Unlike his sons and nephew, Len wasn't in a hurry to dip his wick. Joanne needed reassuring and he wouldn't have a lot of time to deal with her over the next few days; there was so much to do and so many people to "rescue" and so few of them to do the work. He hoped they weren't stretching themselves too far. Joanna stirred when she felt him slip in next to her. They had replaced the former occupant's single bed with a large mattress on the floor. Seth had gotten the teaching staff (all friars) and the few boys present organised onto a bus and had then driven them to a convent school where he had offloaded them and brought back a similar load of the girls who were boarding there, together with two young nuns who decided to renounce their vows. When Seth told Len this he wondered how many of the brothers and other nuns would feel the same way in the time they had left. Len tried to forget about this, and all the other minutiae from the day that clouded his brain. He was too tired to think straight and too uptight to sleep. He slid an arm under his wife's neck and wrapped the other around her, cupping her breast, and snuggled into her back with a sigh. Joanna at 44 was the same age as her husband. She had been married to him for 22 years and had borne him four strong, healthy (until now) children and she was afraid she was going to lose him to his "harem". She even spat out the word in her own mind, unaware that the analogy was being widely considered throughout the darkened school grounds. She almost pushed him away but then realised that he could have been with any of the women he and her sons had gathered that day but no, here he was, curled up against her and still, after 22 years, pressing a stiff cock against her buns. She reached behind and felt the hard rod that she suddenly realised she would never see again. She turned her body and reached up to run her fingers lightly over her lover's face. She would have to get to see her husband by touch and she wept as she felt the cleft in his chin and the stubble on his cheek. Suddenly overcome with love for her man she bruised his lips with hers as she forced her tongue between his teeth. She wanted him and she wanted him to know it. She might have to share him with those bitches but he was hers and always would be. She pushed him onto his back and threw a leg over his hips. Without pausing her passionate kisses she reached between her thighs and pressed her fingers between her lips to find the moisture that would ease his penetration. Her cunt oozed the slippery fluid and she wiped it over the surface of her pussy before seizing his cock and positioning it at the damp entrance. She pushed down and felt it enter then stop. She lifted her hips and pushed down again. The hard penis slid further in and she wiggled her hips as she force it deeper and deeper. It bottomed out with a slight twinge of pain and Joanna eased back and began a gentler oscillation that served to stimulate her husband as she ground her clit against his pubic hair. It wasn't going to be a slow comfortable screw. It was a wanton fuck by a woman who wasn't prepared to lose her man and was going to show him why he should keep coming back. As such it didn't take long before Len was arching his back in his own attempt to drive himself deeper into his wife. He felt his prick jerk as the first surge passed through it and into his wife. As they continued he wondered whether his wife would fall pregnant now contraceptives were banned. Though not a Catholic, Seth's earlier adventures made him wonder how the ageing Pope would feel knowing at least that part of his credo would be followed for the foreseeable future. Len didn't think the rest of their plans would quite meet his approval however. His brief thoughts were scattered by his wife's own orgasm. For the first time in her life she didn't care if anyone heard her pleasure and a loud "Y-E-S!" echoed through the otherwise silent hallways. Let EVERYONE know that with all the spare pussy available HER husband was still pummelling HER cunt!

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Doppelganger Part: Chapter 28 of 31 Summary: Justin was born with a little extra - a set of female sex organs - but that was just the beginning. Keywords: Mm+f+, oral, exhib, voy, 1st Language: English Copyright: 2005 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* INTRODUCTION Justin Rogers was born with something special - a complete functional set of female sex organs. Eventually he found they didn't really belong to him but to his twin sister Tina who spent much of her early life sharing his body. Since she is able to emerge from and rejoin him, they share their memories, their experiences, and their sexual desires. ********************************************************* Continued from Chapter 27 The ten young people gathered around the game board had found the party had gotten raunchier than they had expected. Justin had completed his task now but that meant he had to read the card he had picked up for his "Luck of the Draw". He hoped it wasn't going to involve anything strenuous. "Each of the people involved in the last two tasks you participated in - other than yourself - must kiss each of the others. You must pay $20 to each to watch." "Let's see. The last four are easy. Oh then it was Russ' check up. So Katie, Russ, Simone, Fran, Leslie and Tyler - Yikes $120!" "How do we do this then? Just crowd together?" "Make a line and work your way down. That way no-one gets missed." *************************************** * * * Justin * * * * +--+----+--+ * * | | () | | * * +--+----+--+ * * * * Barry Tina Rick * * * * * * Leslie Tyler Russ Katie Simone Fran * * * *************************************** Leslie started off and her kiss with Tyler showed all the love and lust she had for her girlfriend. They had to be told to finish up and Leslie was admonished for holding Tyler's breast. She took no notice of either complaint but did finish with a hug and moved on to Russ. --- Russ' pants were tented. Watching two girls pashing next to him was an incredible turn on; a wet dream almost come true. Having Leslie lock lips with him in a not dissimilar fashion while her knuckles brushed roughly across the bulge where his cock head was didn't make it any easier to stand quietly there before the others. He hadn't been surprised at Tina fondling him, at least not after seeing her groping the others. Having Leslie do it, even in the insignificant manner she employed, had him twitching - and she was well aware of the fact. --- Katie came next, rather it was her turn, though the effort *SHE* put into the kiss with Leslie made not only Russ but also Simone and Fran wonder if she would. She certainly wasn't shy about kissing another girl in front of the others - and grabbing each other's butts so their pubes were grinding together seemed above and well over anything required for a "casual" kiss. --- Leslie paused before Simone and ran her tongue over her lips. Simone seemed about to wet herself with anticipation. She, of all the girls now in the room, had not kissed - properly kissed - another girl. It wasn't fear that made her quake, at least not fear of Leslie nor of doing it in front of the others. There was some concern she might find it far surpassed kissing Barry and she didn't want to have him appear inferior. She really did like him a lot. No, Simone's body was simply responding to a jolt of adrenaline that made her heart thump in her chest and the blood pound in her ears. Why didn't Leslie just *KISS* her!? "Fuck this!" she thought and put her hand behind Leslie's head, pulling her closer as Simone stepped forward at the same time. "Kiss me you bitch." It was a harsh breath through clenched teeth intended only for Leslie's ears. Leslie was overjoyed. It was fun to initiate so-called "straight girls" as she herself had been only a few months earlier. It was even more fun when they wanted to be "corrupted". Leslie let Simone invade her mouth, reaching up to cup her breasts as Simone tried to lick Leslie's pussy by way of her tonsils. It was a little too over-powering and Leslie had to struggle to win back a little control for herself, letting Simone suck and massage Leslie's tongue as it ventured forth. Leslie had lost her top earlier and Simone's fingertips covered the smooth upper surface of Leslie's breasts while they kissed. She ignored the normally sensitive nipples as they lay hidden behind a sensation-reducing bra. Both girls wondered if they would be able to repeat the kiss with the offending objects removed. Fran tapped Simone's shoulder. "I think people are getting impatient. I know I am." Simone became aware that Tyler was also waiting for them to finish. --- Tyler had started with Russ soon after Leslie had moved on. She had lifted his hands to her full breasts while she applied a vacuum-cleaner-like suction to his lips. One hand had found its way behind his butt as well as his head and, instead of knuckles, she rubbed her mound over his erection. Russ could only wonder what had gotten into all the girls - not that he minded - but an orgy had only ever been in the realm of fairy tales. You might like to think about how you would use the three wishes granted by the genie in the old lamp you found but you never expected to get a chance to use them for real. Through it all he wondered how Tina viewed him - and them. Had she invited him merely to even the numbers up or was there a spark of interest? And if so was it from her or instead from one of the others? They certainly hadn't had a chance to even sit down and talk. Once again, he didn't mind but he also didn't know where he stood. Looking past Tyler's face he could see Tina watching all that was going on - not just him. Her expression indicated a willingness to let him carry on rather than of hurt feelings. That was good. Although *SHE* had messed around with others, Russ was conscious that the female mind was an unknown to him and that Tina could have just as likely been testing his behaviour. The difficulties of trying to double guess her were not worth the distraction, especially when he had a compliant and indeed enthusiastic girl already in his arms - well, hands. --- Too soon it was over and Russ was left by himself to watch the person who had been a 100% male-loving girl for him behaving as a 100% female-loving girl with the other girl, Katie. Katie's hand was positioned just where his had been and Russ could see Tyler fondling Katie's breast in return. He could only wish he had all this on tape. Tyler and Katie separated - just their mouths - and turned in each other's embrace to watch Leslie alternately surrendering and then dominating Simone in a display likely to raise the sexually dead. Bottle that and you wouldn't need little blue pills! "I think people are getting impatient. I know I am." Fran's complaint made Simone and Leslie turn first towards her and then back to the other three in the line up. The culprits grinned but didn't say sorry. They did however part after one more, and very brief, kiss. --- The line folded over itself once more. Fran wholeheartedly embraced Leslie; Tyler got to find out what had kept her other half busy; Russ got to find out a little more about his doctor. "Recovering nicely I see." Katie's hand checked out the front of his pants again as she leaned into Russ' body. The hard appendage moved like a puppy seeking to have its head scratched. Russ grew more confident as each minute flew past. He was now sure no-one was likely to raise any complaint to some touchy-feely though outright fucking was possibly a different matter and where the boundary actually lay was not quite clear. He reached up between their bodies and found the top button that was still closed on Katie's dress. They ran down the front to her hem and it was a handy outfit for her to wear around Justin since she could skip bra and panties and, by undoing just a couple of buttons, give him free access to tit or cunt. She wasn't dressed as simply that evening - yet - and didn't mind Russ getting more personal. It was only a fair return for her previous and current groping after all and the knowledge her lover was watching her being nicely mauled by someone she had known more for minutes rather than months, weeks, or even hours was rather exciting. She felt safe, all her friends were there to protect her if she wanted to back away, and she was therefore free to experiment with something new while knowing she wasn't intending to let anyone but Justin fuck her - unless her luck changed in the game and if that happened she might just have to go with the spirit of the evening. She *COULD* compartmentalise the use of her body for hedonistic pleasure from the mutual sharing of the love with Justin and Tina; that didn't mean she *WANTED* to fuck another man. Russ' hands were working at her navel and then moved down to open the last button behind her hand and over her pubes. "Now what?" she wondered. His hands came back up her sides, his palms slid over her smooth skin and then reached behind to find the catch of her bra. It was a simple clip that only needed him to press in the right place to release the tension in the band that encircled her body. Katie played with his tongue in her mouth as she actively stroked his prick through his pants. "Hmm. If he can undress me", she thought, "why can't I do him?" As Russ' hands returned to the front and lifted the cups over her breasts, Katie had his zip down and with little trouble - she was quite experienced in that area - she had one half of the stiff sausage exposed to the air. She stroked as Russ' thumbs strummed across her nipple. "Finished", said Leslie. "Damn!" thought both Russ and Katie. --- Fran had kissed Tyler in the small washroom. She was interested in finding out what difference there was in Leslie's kisses; very interested. While she was waiting, Fran had tallied the number of people she considered she had Kissed rather than just kissed. (Simone and Leslie's last effort certainly surpassed KISS on this newly established scale, perhaps nearing the status of *K*I*S*S*.) She realised that those she had shared a lip lock with were nearly all currently in the room with her. When Leslie finally stood in front of Fran it was Fran who, like Simone, initiated their kiss. Unlike Simone's hard lust however, Fran showed a tenderness that only briefly masked the urgency she experienced. It was a kiss made up of a seemingly never ending exchange of lips capturing and releasing lip; of tongue inviting but never intruding more than a short and active tip. Mouth worked against mouth, gently, slowly, sensuously. It was an award winning screen kiss that could have gone on all night had they not been conscious of the need to move onwards. Fran could only hope Rick would kiss her like the girls had done. So far the two of them had been smoochie but nothing close to the evening's eye-openers. Fran held Leslie against her as the other girl spoke up; Leslie enjoyed turning the tables on the others. Leslie was sorry she had when she saw Katie's state of dress or rather undress. If she had held off, how much more of a show would her friend have provided for the four sitting around watching? That made her look to see what was going on in the audience. Tina was sitting between Barry and Rick while Justin spent part of his time watching her and most of the rest on Katie's dishevelled appearance. Since Barry had been forced to trade his underpants for a towel and had lost the rest, it was easy for Tina to simply slip a hand through the gap at the side. That took care of his prick and, to be completely fair, she had unzipped Rick's fly - with his more than willing assistance, and had reached in to stroke that as well. She took great care to ration her movements, stopping at any suggestion of "undue excitement". The boys got plenty of that watching their girlfriends getting as frisky as they could while clothed and upright. If they dared tell anyone what they had watched, they were sure they wouldn't be believed. Simone for instance had almost pounced on Leslie and wasn't behaving with much more decorum now Tyler was in front of her. It was almost as exciting to watch as it was for the two girls themselves. When time was called and the other couples separated, Barry and Rick quite naturally stared at Katie's exposed breasts. You don't spend several hours a day in a class with a young lady and not wonder on occasion what those plump, soft, er... well you don't if you're a teenage boy! Katie wasn't oblivious to their stares and cupped her loose breasts, shaking them towards the audience and rubbing her thumbs across the targets around her nipples. Then she poked her tongue out and started to pull her bra back into place. "Ah, Ah! No you don't! You of all people know the rules - 'Unless specifically stated, clothing cannot be replaced'. Your bra stays up and your dress stays open." Tina loved bossing *HER* girlfriend like this, teasing her when she knew Katie couldn't fight back. "FINE!" Katie restored the bra to its position across her chest. --- She was alone at one end of the line now; Leslie had cleared the line and completed her part in the task but was enjoying a close up of Tyler, always an energetic kisser, matching her technique to Fran's sweet nibbles. Fran was now quite aware of how Tyler kissed and was quite prepared to let her lead their oral dance while she continued what they had started earlier. Leslie watched as her lover's jeans were opened by someone else and marvel how the intruder then had the gall to put her hand down inside Tyler's clothing while Tyler's lover was standing right beside her. Leslie could react in only one way and that was to punish Fran by making her suffer as Tyler so obviously was at her hands. Rick couldn't believe his eyes; his girlfriend was the meat in a lesbian sandwich. He wasn't sure where that left him but if Tina wasn't careful *SHE'D* be "holding the mayo". --- Barry had some similar issues as he watched Russ removing Simone's open blouse to undo her bra as well. Russ slid her sleeve down one unresisting arm and then the other so it fell to the floor. It was then a very simple matter to remove her bra and to throw it back to the audience as a souvenir. That in itself didn't bother Barry though he wished he had a "No Way!" card so he could have replaced Russ with himself. No. That was far less worrying than the way Simone had seemed to straddle Russ' prick, sitting astride the stub that poked out just far enough to provide a rubbing post for her pantyhose covered clit. Russ held Simone by the sides of her rib cage, supporting her so she could dry fuck him and just managing to bury his thumbs into her soft tit flesh. Russ's own ass could be seen to push forward against Simone as though he wanted to fuck her for real. Barry could understand that and wished Tina hadn't invited the other male. Simone *REALLY* seemed to be enjoying herself! Hell, she had her leg wrapped behind Russ' as she leaned back so her body was forced more firmly against the pole. "Why hasn't she approached me that way?" wondered Barry. It was a natural question, teenage years are a time when doubts surface. It fortunately, for most, is also a time when the teens achieve some degree of perspective so they can deal with the doubts. That is probably the real sign of a transition from childhood to adult because the doubts themselves usually resurface about other issues even through adulthood. It was Justin who called time though. He was interested in the reactions of those around him to Katie and Simone kissing now both had bare breasts. Barry was grateful. He certainly had mixed feelings but he also had seemed to have had few options - none really comforting. 1. He could have jumped up in indignation to complain (and thereby forgone Tina's hand on his own prick - not an insignificant sacrifice). 2. He could have tried to get Simone to leave with him, but she may then prefer to stay on without him to leaving early. She certainly seemed to be enjoying herself so far. 3. He could then either embarrassingly back down; or 4. He could leave alone and perhaps thereby leave Simone to Russ' further attentions. In either case, he would be uncertain where their relationship stood. or... 5. He could sit quietly, enjoying Tina's ministrations and the show, hoping Simone's feelings for him hadn't changed in an adverse way, in fact hoping that she was now open to quite a few things he hadn't been game to suggest previously. Option 5 had many uncertainties but it certainly seemed to hold more promise than any of the others. Besides, indecision and inaction can often be easier than actually doing something, and may in fact turn out to be the right thing after all. --- Leslie had welcomed Tyler back into her arms with a kiss that had passion if not the intensity of their last encounters. They both knew they would have the rest of the night together if they managed to retain any urge for something other than a comfortable snuggle; watching the others was for now a much more interesting occupation. "Hey! You're finished. You're not supposed to be starting all over again." Barry was eager for the game to continue, as interesting and disturbing as the current task had become. It was more a case of "what about me?" Having his prick slowly jerked was more than just nice but surely this was an opportunity to try other things as well. "We're just waiting here. There is nothing in the rules to say we can't kiss and cuddle at other times is there?" Since the whole intention of the game was to break down the barriers between a group of people and to get them to do things they might not have considered or even known of previously, Tina had to agree the rules allowed plenty of leeway. --- Everyone's attention was on the two remaining couples though it was Rick's turn to now watch his girlfriend being partially stripped by the newcomer. Fran too had lost her skirt but didn't have the length in her legs to allow her to straddle Russ' prick. She didn't object to his lifting her T-shirt above her bra nor to him undoing the eyelets in the middle of her back. She actually helped him pull one sleeve over her arm, and then the other, so the T-shirt became a ruffled collar around her neck. She took her bra off herself, tossing it behind Russ to land where Tina's hand disappeared into Rick's pants. Fran hadn't been too busy not to know exactly what *HE* had been up to! As Russ had been working on her T-shirt, Fran had also been busy, one handed, right, then left, opening *HIS* shirt buttons as well. Why should he have all the fun after all. Once Rick had her bra Fran finished the job off and Russ' shirt littered the floor as well. Then Fran mashed her tits against Russ' muscular chest. He didn't work out quite enough to have an abdomen like Batman's costume in the movies but neither did he have the far less athletic appearance of the Adam West version. Fran moved herself sideways as their kisses resumed the sort of strength she had become familiar with. She felt her nipples harden with the friction across his chest as Russ felt a similar friction across her belly. --- Standing beside them, Katie was varying the pressure with which her nipples brushed against Simone's and making her mouth match their contact. Her lips met Simone's as she deliberately swung her breasts sideways so each nipple would collide with another; her puckered lips dragged lightly against Simone's - which had parted in anticipation of an intruding tongue - as she continued to turn her head instead of making the closer contact Simone so obviously desired. As her breasts swung back again, Katie leaned forward and her cheek pressed against Simone's as each had a breast trapped in the middle of the other girl's chest. Katie's tongue ran over the side of Simone's face and her breath tickled Simone's ear, but only enough that Simone eagerly turned her head so the convolutions of her ear were available for the more substantial tickling of Katie's tongue. Each could lift a hand to the breast left free; each did. As Katie's tongue pressed into her friend's ear (as both might wish it did elsewhere) they found the other apparently liked the same sort of touch as they did themselves. Katie deserted the ear and sought Simone's mouth instead, grateful no-one had raised the technicality that the kiss had finished a little while ago. She moved her body and the four nipples were once more aligned. Hands were forced to encircle the pale orbs rather than to tease the hard nipples as Katie pulled Simone's body closer while Simone did everything she could to grind her mouth against Katie's. Simone had known Katie for years; they saw each other every Sunday morning for their dance class; they sat near each other in school. How could she *NOT* know Katie enjoyed this sort of thing? How could Katie *NOT* have let her know how much fun it was? And how on Earth could Ainslie think there was possibly *ANYTHING* wrong with it? Without the two girls being aware of Fran's behaviour beside them as she rubbed her tits across Russ' chest, the audience viewed both couples moving in a synchronised fashion; the pleasure from their abraded nipples obvious by the effort all four put into having them continually colliding while they swayed from side to side. The friction proved too much for Russ and he had to pull away, very reluctantly, from Fran lest he paint her stomach. It wasn't that he had any objection to coating her with semen, though he considered there were other places he would prefer to leave it. No, Russ was still just a little shy about coming in front of everyone. Fran reached between them as he pulled away, getting one last grab in even as he took a better hold of her tits. They smiled at one another - potential friends at least though her preference was still for her Rick. It was a bit like winning a date with a movie star. You liked the on-screen persona and took the opportunity when it arose but you never really found out what the person was like behind the image and it didn't change the way you felt about the person you had already given your heart to. If Fran had met Russ under other circumstances she would have simply said "Hello" with Rick's arm around her waist and that would have pretty much been the end of it. Instead, they were here; she had been stripped down if not completely off; she had done much the same to him; and he had basically fucked her belly button as they had swayed to the pounding of the blood in their ears. It had all been good. --- And now she was alone; nearly naked in front of her friends and surprisingly without shame in regards to either her appearance or her behaviour. She was free to pay attention to what her other friends were doing. Outstanding! And so were their nipples when they parted long enough to let light between their bodies. Fran looked down at her arm and was amazed to find her own nipples had hardened to form much thicker lumps than she had previously experienced. They weren't quite as prominent as Katie's or Simone's but they had a solidity that seemed to scream out "Hold me!". What could Fran do but obey. Her thumbs lay under the nipples and her forefingers descended to trap the sensitive flesh. Stretching and rolling them felt so nice she failed to look up when Katie and Simone stopped and looked at her instead. --- Katie knew she and Simone would now kiss Fran in turn but didn't think that meant Simone had to wait until Katie was finished. She approached Fran but kept hold of Simone's hand at the same time, pulling her behind - you couldn't call a single step "dragging". Fran looked up from her introspective appraisal of her breasts - she rarely paid as much attention to them from a vertical viewpoint as mirrors were so much more useful - and met their smiles. Katie approached her, bare breasts swaying to attract Fran's eyes like the mesmerising movement of a snake about to strike its prey. She was off centre and had her arm behind Simone so she too approached Fran - from the other side. Katie poked her tongue out, waggling it first at Fran and then at Simone. Her mouth reached Fran's, just the corners touching and their extended tongues collided. There was room for Simone to fill the gap and with the briefest delay she did so. Once again their breasts mimicked their mouths with six tits mashed into a misshapen triangle. Katie knew the pleasure of such kisses was more in the ridiculous attempts to keep their mouths planted together and to trade off between partners than for any physical satisfaction. The mental stimulation more than made up for that though - and the little surprises that could happen when you least expected it. Someone's hand - and it really could only be Fran! - was finding its way into the front of Katie's knickers. Katie made a point of kissing just Fran for a second to welcome her and then turned to kiss Simone "privately" while intruding into *HER* pantyhose. "Look after Fran", she instructed as Simone started. *SHE* hadn't expected this from Katie but she found the covered back of Katie's hand and rubbed it gently, encouraging Katie to follow in Barry's earlier fingerprints rather than footsteps. That was when she felt Fran's hand moving around as well - yet one more surprise in a night of shockers! Simone covered Fran's hand in an attempt to discover more about her involvement with Katie. Fran had certainly learned from Tyler and, even more recently, from Leslie and was rapidly finding out what Katie liked. Simone was quite aware of what she liked herself and Katie was providing plenty of that. Katie's comment made more sense and it seemed only fair to do her part as well. Leslie and Tyler motioned for Russ to join them, encircling the other three so they could feel the effect the inner group were having on each other as well as providing some physical support when their knees got a little unsteady. Simone had felt Barry fingering her earlier, Fran had suffered (gloriously) at the hands of Tyler and Leslie. None of those episodes had prepared either of them for the outrageous excitement of performing so publicly before their peers. It was almost like standing on stage at some school presentation and then masturbating together. Leslie and Tyler *KNEW* how the girls would need support; a wild finger-fuck contest while they were standing had been a fun challenge on many an occasion though initially the intention *HADN'T* been to make the opponent come in a literal screaming heap before they could do the same to you - and there had been quite a few dead heats as well. Russ didn't know just what to expect but, with his prick being buffeted by Katie's hip on one side and Fran's on the other, he had no complaints. If watching what he considered a lesbian threesome hadn't been interesting enough, being more than just a bystander was the icing on the cake. The girls within his arms were shaking as their lust reached a crescendo. It was an earthquake that stretched the Richter Scale to new extremes. Fran succumbed first and then Katie, unfortunately leaving Simone's pussy suddenly vacated just when it really needed company. She began to reach in herself but Tyler beat her to it and Simone found herself in Leslie's arms, kissing *HER* while Tyler's breasts pressed against her back and her fingers quickly finished the job Katie - now cuddling Fran on the floor - had abandoned. Russ just watched. Could he ever tell ANYONE he had been in a huddle with five! - count them *FIVE*! - lesbian teenagers? He realised with a grin that, for a male, the fantasy was not quite as fulfilling as being with five girls who wanted *HIM*. Katie, Fran and Simone had at least come, something he was sorry *NOW* that he hadn't enjoyed. Shaking his head in amazement at all that had happened, Russ made his way back to his place where Tina came over to join him. "Enjoying yourself?" "Thank you for inviting me. It's been incredible." "I'm glad you came." "I haven't actually, not yet." Would she take the hint? "Perhaps I can help." Tina wrapped her fingers around his exposed prick and gently squeezed. She would make him come but in *HER* time. Katie, having a quiet recovery cuddle with Fran, and now Simone, was also watching how their respective boyfriends couldn't take their eyes off of the three of them. "They look left out don't they?" The other girls turned their gazes on the boys; each sitting apart unlike their girlfriends. "We should make them come." Fran's quiet suggestion gained Simone's approval and Katie was game for almost anything. "Why don't you trade off though. Let Barry watch Simone make Rick come and Rick can watch Fran with Barry." "While *YOU* get to fool around with your *OWN* boyfriend." "Well I had planned on fucking him. Does one of you want to offer to do *THAT*? Why not have a competition who can make the other's boyfriend come first and then fuck your own boyfriend after - he's going to last longer that way and you'll have a chance to recover too. If your asses are facing them and stuck way up in the air you might just make him come before your opponent lays a hand, or whatever, on him." Simone looked at Fran, Fran at Simone. Fran decided to make the challenge even more interesting. "I'm game. Loser fucks their boyfriend doggy style in front of everyone?" She didn't mind losing the bet though she would prefer to see Simone on public display; apparently Simone felt similarly. "Done." Katie turned to her other chums. "Leslie & Tyler. Can you judge a little contest for us?" --- The three young men knew something was up - the girls were whispering while they looked over at them and then they all rose and turned to face them. It was a wonderful sight and any residual resentment towards Russ for his being the lucky one to bare their bodies vanished as the bodies were more clearly displayed. Compared to Fran and Simone's simple topless state - and neither was coy about displaying their assets - Katie presented an untidy display with her bra pushed up and her dress hanging open. In some ways that appeared more attractive as the dishevelled look made it seem like she had been interrupted while actively engaged in sex rather than the far more natural semi-nude state that seemed instead to imply dressing rather than undressing. No-one, including Russ who was having to contend with Tina in his lap, found complaint about any of the three girls. Except... When Fran and Simone sat down they did so next to their boyfriends and gave them (their own) a kiss. Katie did similarly to Justin but she took a condom from her pocket and unrolled it while he watched the other boys puzzlement. Having been kissed - and that was far inferior to the kissing the girls had shared - Rick and Barry were presented with a reasonably close view of their own girlfriends' nether regions as the other girl sought the objects Tina had left behind. Simone had given Barry a hand job - unfortunately interrupted - in the privacy of the washroom. Fran now opened his belt to let the towel fall open, exposing his whole body to the other's view. Between looking at Simone's barely covered twat and at Fran fondling him, Barry couldn't care less about the others. If Justin's parents had turned up right then he might even have ignored *THEM*. Simone took a little longer with Rick. Certainly Tina had left his prick sticking out but Simone wanted an unimpeded access. His belt was easy. Getting him to lift his butt also needed little effort and the actual dragging off his pants to knee level was smooth compared to getting his underpants over an erection which kept springing back in an unwanted fashion. Rick helped and he too was soon rendered almost as naked as his friend. Katie didn't bother stripping Justin too much. She cleared his pants to mid-thigh level and then wrapped his prick as it stuck out over the elastic waistband of his underpants. With her hands on his ankles, Katie covered his prick with her wetter than wet vagina and sunk down until she felt him deep within her - then she rested and watched. Justin leaned back and nodded to Russ who had also watched with great interest. --- Russ was no longer amazed by any of the antics of those present that evening - including himself. That didn't mean he wasn't going to watch when two of them started fucking out in the open even though there wasn't really that much to see. Still his imagination had little time to wait before Tina decided to copy her friend and lover. Russ raised no objection when she coated his erection with a condom after moving his pants down as well. With the expectation of good things to come why would any young man? And the good things *DID* come. Tina started off by blowing his strawberry-flavoured trumpet or perhaps trombone since the resemblance was closer to a trombone slide moving back and forth than to fingers pressing a set of valves. *THAT* was closer to what Fran and Simone (both oral virgins until that night) were doing. Russ felt himself about to come but just as the spurts started Tina pushed two fingers hard against the channel behind his balls so his cum couldn't escape. The pressure built and forced the flow into his bladder instead. Tina and Katie had spent some time together on the net finding little variations they could apply either to each other or to Justin. This was one *HE* had yet to experience but the result was the condom showed little sign of Russ' orgasm. Since he was still hard when she let him go, Tina straddled Russ like Katie had Justin and he felt the silken touch of her body as it engulfed him. Unlike Katie, Tina sought her own release as well as trying to keep Russ hard so she was much more energetic; enough that Rick and Barry were distracted by the occasional "Oh y-e-s!" and "mmmmmmmm!" noises. Justin too was interested in his sister's pleasure. He knew what it felt like for her to be fucked and wondered how Russ would react if he knew Justin would be replaying the insertion of Russ' prick into Tina's cunt. --- Things began heating up all over the room with Leslie and Tyler whispering suggestions to Simone and Fran respectively. Fran found it easy enough to lick along the outside of Barry's prick but wasn't sure about putting the knob into her mouth; she was sure it would go off as soon as she did. Tyler suggested she put a condom over it and obtained one from the cache Katie had revealed earlier; she also passed one over to Leslie for Simone to use if she so desired. Fran found the flavour unusual but was sure it would be better than Barry's cum. She hadn't felt the same danger when she had taken Justin's prick into her mouth, perhaps because she hadn't witnessed his release at that stage. No, if she was going to swallow anyone's cum it was going to be Rick's. She wondered how Rick felt about watching her with Barry - he couldn't mind too much since he hadn't complained and was enjoying whatever Simone was doing. Was Simone blowing him too? Would he like *HER* actions as much as Simone's? She hoped she didn't lose her boyfriend over the unusual challenge but it was definitely something to worry about later, as was the possible deprecation of her reputation as a "good" girl. She was having too much fun! She bobbed her head and wrapped her tongue around Barry's twitching prick. He was making almost as much noise as Tina and she had high hopes of winning the contest! --- Simone had embraced fellatio more whole-heartedly than Fran, maintaining a slow motion with her head, sucking lustily and grazing Rick with her tongue on each stroke. She too was grateful for the latex barrier and didn't mind the odd flavour of the rubber through the citrus tang. Leslie was barracking for Simone to win and was willing to cheat a little to spur Rick on ahead of Barry. She knew Rick was watching Fran's ass, and the growing damp stain on her knickers where they were moulded to her pussy, at the same time as his prick was disappearing onto Simone's mouth and how either he or Barry were lasting was beyond her! Leslie took Rick's hand and lay it, unresisting, on the carpet. She made it into a fist and pointed the thumb straight up; then she simply straddled it and closed her legs around his arm. She had her own fleshy dildo and he had his thumb in a cunt for the first time. That wasn't the end of things though. Rick could still see Fran and now he watched as Leslie pushed Fran's knickers to one side as she buried *HER* thumb in his girlfriend's cunt in imitation of the digit buried in her own. The situation got ridiculous as Fran, suitably stimulated to greater efforts, then began to suck harder and Barry held her head over his suddenly spewing prick. Leslie's plan had backfired! "We have cum!" said Tyler who only then noticed Leslie's breaking of the spirit of the competition - after all there hadn't actually been any rules. Leslie shrugged her shoulders at her lover's playful scowl and began to writhe on Rick's thumb. If she was going to form part of a chain she felt she should get some enjoyment out of it. Simone was pushing Rick's prick to the back of her mouth, trying to take as much in as she could and giving him a blowjob that would be his standard of excellence for some months though he was *NEVER* foolish enough to let any suggestion of that slip to Fran who made up for having to be the second set of lips wrapped around his prick by wrapping them there on a very regular basis. Rick came as well and Simone felt the surges against her tongue, hoping the rapidly swelling tip of the condom would not burst while she was still moving her head and sucking on the nice penis. She had enjoyed the experience - not perhaps as much as Rick certainly - and was eager to get Barry alone so she could reward him if he ate her out properly. "We have cum as well. Fran wins though." Simone heard the words and realised that meant she had lost the competition *AND* the bet. Would Barry agree to "pay up"? Would he be able to fuck her? Were there any more condoms? She certainly didn't want to get pregnant. The question lapsed unanswered while Leslie showed her what to do with the used condom; yet another surprise from a "lesbian". Fran, disengaging herself from Leslie's thumb, turned around and nudged Simone. "My turn this end." Simone pushed back with her own shoulder and crawled, also on all fours, to greet Barry. Both girls were delighted by the reception they got, being the recipients of any reward due the other. "Let them clean up", suggested Katie and the four newcomers (no pun intended) looked at her and realised she had been watching while united with Justin; Tina's similar behaviour had been far less circumspect and she just grinned when they turned to watch her and Russ as well. "Good?" Fran was sure *SHE* wouldn't have been able to fuck a boy, even Rick, on what was essentially a first date and *ESPECIALLY* not so publicly. Didn't Tina care what anyone thought of her? "Great!" Apparently she didn't, since she wiggled her ass like a dancing bee much to Russ' pleasure - a pleasure that was unfortunately all too brief as she brought him to a climax as well as herself. Fran watched as Russ' hands took firm hold of Tina's hips; the look on his face was absolutely hilarious - had Rick and Barry been similarly afflicted? She had been too focussed on Barry's loins to look at his face. Tina too began to look strange. Strange enough that Fran could feel herself leaking; it seemed her body liked, or maybe sympathised with, the odd expressions. Russ was lifting Tina as he tried to push into her and Rick's hand sought for and squeezed Fran's as he too was absorbed by the sight of the couple fucking before them. Fran looked at Simone and, when she had her eye, softly said "Woof" and grinned. Simone didn't seem to mind. Tina's sideshow drew to an end with her leaning back so Russ' prick pushed against the front of her vagina with the last of its firmness. Russ' arms went around to cup her breasts while Tina turned over her shoulder to kiss him. Fran squeezed Rick's fingers. "Get cleaned up!" She tried to hint of some further promise and watched as he pulled his pants the rest of the way off before hurrying away. Barry followed, leaving his lap-lap behind so his pale ass was the last thing Fran saw as he followed Rick into the washroom. Continued... ********************************************************* Please Note - the file dop.zip contains images of the board which can be printed and assembled - simply follow the numbers around the outside so the two shortcuts are on the inside of the board surrounding the spinner. The zip file also contains a document describing the board and the general rules of play. Each of the purchasable properties has the tasks or otherwise that the player must perform for the owner if the property is owned. Otherwise, like similar games, they may purchase it themselves. The player landing on a property must roll two dice and follow the instructions for the total rolled for that property. Since there is less chance of getting a number the further away it is from 7 the more "risqu" activities tend to be at 2 or 12. Some properties are tamer than others and most require the player to make a payment as well. Some examples are given for the special card decks but no attempt was made to provide a complete set of activities. Use your imagination and make sure you have the props handy. PdV *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Assassin Part: Chapter 13 of 27 Summary: Ass, sass and sin. A young assassin does more than befriend people when he tries to get close to his targets. Keywords: Mfff, MFf, MMf, ff, oral, voy, exhib, non-cons Language: English Copyright: 2009 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* I had been given the job of getting close to one Adam Pringle - because he was a slippery bastard who was too nasty to live. He was also a hard man to get access to but fortunately his twin children Mark and Kyra were far more approachable though I'd unwittingly made a couple of poor decisions while trying to build a good cover story. Through my own carelessness, I was "dating" my foster- sister Anna and two of the other players from her girls' soccer team and ended up taking them all to a spot where nude bathing was prevalent if not actually legally permitted. There they each expected me to service their needs at some stage during our picnic, an expectation put on hold while a couple in their twenties had stopped to rest on their way up the gully. Surprised, or rather aroused, to find evidence that we had been intimate, they left in a hurry to find a spot where they could "relax" themselves. ********************************************************* Protected with a fresh application of sunscreen, Rosalee leaned back against me and listened while I spun a tale for her about the nude couple who had passed through our private spot. --------------------------------------------------------- "You've decided to see what is going on but you know that Darren and Marie will be wary of anyone climbing up the same way they did. You make your way up the other side of the gully; it's more difficult but you don't give up and when you get to the top you find there is plenty of cover over that side of the pool." As I spoke I worked my hands over Rosalee's breasts and I could see Anna and Hailey were amused by both the story and how Rosalee was relaxing back in the fantasy with her eyes closed. "As you suspected, they have set themselves up where they can watch for arrivals but you part the rushes carefully and see Marie licking the end of Darren's prick. Her fingers only just reach around it; it must have swollen even more and you wonder if she can get it into her mouth." I was using considerable poetic license here as I doubted that Marie would have any difficulty at all. The girls had seen it as larger so larger it would be. "Marie managed to work her way down the length by stretching and relaxing her jaw over and over so she was able to take a little more with each try. Eventually she had the whole of the head and a couple of centimetres further in her mouth and began to suck on that since she couldn't easily move her mouth up and down. You parted the plants as you leaned forward for a better look at her cheeks puckering and Marie must have noticed some movement. Her head turned a little your way making Darren call out in pleasure. "You ducked back and crawled around the pond to another hiding spot as you heard Darren telling Marie how nice it felt when she was humming around his prick. But she wasn't humming and when she managed to get free you heard her say 'There is someone watching over there!' You were glad you'd moved. "Darren waded across the pool and you watched as his hard prick swung around with each step. He looked through the reeds and told Marie she had to be mistaken and you gave a little sigh of relief. He waded back to her and you saw him kiss the side of her face before working his way down, first to her breasts and then between her legs. He'd left a trail of kisses and was finally licking between her thighs. You were torn between looking at the view of his prick hanging down as seen from between his legs and wondering how Marie's taste compared to the others you had tried." Those "others" had moved closer together as I had spoked and were cuddling relatively innocently as they listened. "Suddenly Darren got to his feet and told Marie he had something special for her and you watched him move towards the rocks. Marie stood up and looked over at where she had seen you before. She moved towards the water and, though she was facing well to one side of you, you crouched down carefully so you wouldn't give yourself away. "There was a sound behind you but before you could react a hand covered your mouth and another seized your waist. He was strong; you knew you couldn't break free when he lifted you effortlessly and once more waded out into the pool. "Darren hadn't doubted that Marie had seen someone and, hearing your sigh, he had worked out where you had gone. He didn't want to just chase you and have you fall down the rocks - at the very best his afternoon would be spent getting you medical assistance and at worst sitting in a court explaining the naked body of a sexy teenage girl. "He dropped you at Marie's feet and you fell onto your hands and knees. 'You want to watch us? Perhaps you should watch a little closer! Here you are love, I've brought you a little sex toy.' "What did he mean you wondered. There was soon little doubt! "Marie lay back down and Darren pushed your face between her legs. She smelled nice and when your mouth collided with her pussy, you tasted her and found you liked it. "Darren still held you and you asked him to let you go. You said you were sorry and you would do this anyway. He released you but stood by until you began to eat his girlfriend without further force. "Marie complimented your efforts after a while. 'She's good Darren.' He decided to find out for himself and reached under to hold your breasts as they dangled down." I cupped Rosalee's breasts to match my words; though they were flattened back against her chest in reality, I could see she *KNEW* it was otherwise. "He enjoyed holding you - there was so much more weight in his hands than when he held Marie's tiny tits." I grinned apologetically at Anna and Hailey with their mock expressions of outrage. "But feeling your gorgeous tits only made Darren hotter. You had interrupted his pleasure so you would have to provide it instead. He moved around behind you and began fingering you instead." I raised an eyebrow in Anna's direction. Would she be interested in adding some further input into the story? It was foolish to think otherwise as she excused herself with a quick kiss to Hailey and leaned forward where she could reach through the water to Rosalee's pussy. The juices that had collected there had been protected from the water and were undiluted; Anna had no trouble evoking a smile from Rosalee who opened her eyes briefly then dreamily closed them again. Hailey wasn't about to be left out though and moved so she could slip her fingers over Anna's rump and into her pussy from behind. Since that was out of the water they had no concerns about all those slippery juices being washed away. Which left me wondering where I had gotten to. "Darren is behind you and his fingers explore you inside as well as out. Does it feel good?" Rosalee murmured a barely comprehensible "Yes". "Darren thinks you are ready and he knows he is. You feel him against you and at first it isn't any concern. He's just resting there and you've felt that before. Then he slowly pushes forward and he is suddenly bigger. It's like three fingers pressing all at once (Anna are you paying attention?), then four. "You try to speak but Marie has you by the ears. Any sound you make is muffled by the moans she emits as your voice vibrates through her sensitive pussy. She only holds you harder against her so that when Darren's knob finally does slide inside you no-one hears your own moan. It isn't pain though, but pleasure." Rosalee is moaning and writhing. What is Anna doing? The surface of the water ripples and I can't make anything out from this angle anyway. "Your cunt is being stretched like never before but Darren knows to be gentle and as you become used to it all you are aware of is how full you feel. He pushes in a little further and then moves back, getting more of your juices around him so he can slide in more easily. The next push has him half way in and you're going mad on Marie's pussy." "Roger?" Surprised at Rosalee's interruption it was a second or two before I asked, "Yes?" "Could I be going mad on your prick instead please?" The customer is always right. "Downstream we were getting concerned that you'd been gone so long so I left Anna and Hailey fingering each other and climbed up to check on you. I was surprised to see you had joined in but you didn't seem in any trouble so I just walked up to the three of you. "Marie noticed me first and was suddenly afraid I would try to hurt her for making you eat her. She backed away leaving you with only Darren to keep you amused. You called me over and covered my prick with your mouth. I was soft and you felt it grow and harden. You began to suck." "Do it," Rosalie suddenly cried. "Give me your prick to suck on." That involved a little reorganisation (and a delay to the story) but having done so I stood beside Rosalee and she eagerly took me in her mouth. She sucked then released me. "Keep going!" I was to provide the same realistic effects for her story as Anna. "Uh. Darren has realised he's not in trouble and has started slowly fucking you again and, each time you feel him pressing into you, you suck harder. You're getting more and more worked up and though you can still taste Marie, you are only concerned with the idea of two hard dicks meeting somewhere in the middle of you." Rosalee did try her best to go deeper on me and it seemed to be due to something more than just the story. I found out that Anna had four fingers tucked inside Rosalee and her thumb worked over her clit as she forced them in until Anna herself couldn't stand having them crushed. *THEN* Rosalee's cunt was allowed to push them out to a manageable level. It didn't hurt Rosalee at all! In fact she was getting off on it - and so was I, second hand. "Darren knew he was coming soon and wanted to hold off as long as he could so you came with him. You felt your needs rising and could tell I wasn't far away. It was going to be up to you to try and make it happen for all of us together. "I told you I was close and you had to decide whether to keep going or to use your hand. You knew what would happen either way and decided on the option that would make us come at the same time." I let the story lapse for a while. Even if Rosalee was close to coming she could still choose to change to her hand. She didn't and my heart fluttered - or perhaps it was my stomach flip-flopping instead. I could let whatever happen with a clear conscience now I guessed; Rosalee *COULD* have changed her mind. "You feel me move against you as my needs build and you try to grind yourself back onto Darren as well. You're certainly making both of us very happy and we only hope you are as well." I felt Rosalee's mouth suddenly change. She could no longer resist the orgasm that had been building for the last few minutes. "You feel yourself coming and as you do Darren begins to fill you. You've made him come inside you and you smirk that you've denied Marie that pleasure. Darren could have fucked his girlfriend but he preferred you. You realise that I could have taken her as well and reward me for being faithful. You suck harder, bobbing your head and you realise I'm going to come too. You can almost count down, three, two (I paused to make the numbers fit), one, Nowahh!" The story came to an abrupt end as I came to an abrupter one. Rosalee swallowed the cum I was sending down her throat and her mouth crushed my boner. Anna gave a final wriggle, inside and out, but knew better than I what was best when Rosalee had come. She recovered her fingers and stood, forcing Hailey to stop too. "Come with me," Anna took Hailey's hand, "and we'll show them what they missed by going uphill and leaving us alone." --- Anna led Hailey into the shade while Rosalee recovered from swallowing a load and having a pretend - or not so pretend - donkey fuck. Neither seemed to have hurt her and she didn't want to give my prick back at first, bending down to the water as I sat before she finally let go. "Thank you," we said together before hugging to mutual giggles. Okay, I admit it, I giggled too; it was just the moment! "Want to see what has happened down here while we've been visiting Darren and Marie?" "Okay. Thank you for coming to rescue me." "It was definitely my pleasure." We helped each other up and joined our friendly lovers or our loving friends. Anna had gotten Hailey to lay aligned with her so their legs interlocked like two pairs of scissors. "Certainly looks effective. You'll have to try later." "I don't think I could. Not for a while at least. I have never felt this good this many times before - can you just hold me please?" Holding Rosalee was not a chore and I most certainly wasn't about to object to such a reasonable request - especially from someone who had just let me paint her tonsils without the merest word or sign of complaint. The way Anna and Hailey were grinding themselves together suggested that they wouldn't be able to do it for long. I whispered in Rosalee's ears about their pained expressions and soon had Rosalee laughing with me. The others paid us no attention. Anna uttered a series of explosive profanity - "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" - which Hailey must have simply been too refined to copy. Instead her jaw was clenched so hard I was glad my now limp prick hadn't been anywhere near her mouth as their pussy rub had started. "They can't be enjoying that; do you think I should stop them?" Anna's eyes snapped open and she tried to fix what was a wavering glare in my general direction before her eyes rolled back in her head. "K'll - - - you!" It was barely coherent yet the implication was easily understood. They were not in the mood to be teased. "I think we should let them be. Come and sit with me." Rosalee sat sideways between my legs when I found a comfortable rock to lean against. The sun had moved the shadows around and spoilt my previous comfy spot. I took a quick look at my watch before settling down for a little kissing and cuddling while we waited for our friends. I wasn't sure that I wanted anything more for a while and Rosalee had indicated she was satisfied with her day - not necessarily a rejection of further advances but rather a willingness to accept those already made as sufficient. After what we were watching I doubted Anna and Hailey would recover soon. It then become a question of whether we stayed here or saw a bit more of the park. I had to be a little careful not to make it seem we only stayed here while *I* wanted sex. Hailey's voice joined Anna's, urging her that "Now!" and "Yes!" were appropriate. Their arms were a mixture of red flesh and white knuckles as they both pulled each other tighter against themselves. Anna screamed and I think Hailey matched her. It was a little hard to tell and I was suddenly concerned that we would get a visit from either upstream or down. If Hailey was as vocal she finished before Anna had calmed down and then their bodies seemed to explode with legs swinging away from each other as they independently decided enough could sometimes be too much. They lay there panting, and I'm sure crying. All Rosy and I could say was "Wow!" - and my traitorous prick then proved it wasn't quite dead! Anna started turning herself around in the sand and Hailey met her. They crawled to lie beside or slightly over one another and just clung together. Anna tried to kiss Hailey but Hailey turned her face so their cheeks met instead. I think if Anna had had the strength she would have conveyed her hurt. "Damn! You know I'm beginning to wish I had a pussy so I could try that." "Mmm, then I'd like a prick - thick like Darren's - so I could do you like he did me." "He's not really that thick, you know." "Hmm but I would be. I'd stretch you just like you said." "But then I wouldn't be able to suck on you properly - you wouldn't fit." "You'd suck on me!?" "Well if I had the pussy and you had the prick it's that or let you fuck me until I'm sore." "I'm not sore." "*I* would be if you were to fuck me all you liked." "I guess I wouldn't really like a penis if I had to give up making love to you." "You'd still be making love." "I meant having you inside me." "I admit that is quite a lovely place to be." "You can't come home with me and hide in my bedroom can you?" "Sorry Love." "You keep saying that. Do you mean it?" "What? 'Sorry'?" I teased despite Rosalee's serious expression. "No! *LOVE*!" "Of course. I wouldn't be here doing all these things with you if I didn't love you." "But if you love me how can you fuck Anna and Hailey too?" "Why can't I love them too?" "Because it doesn't work that way." "Don't you love both your mother and your father?" "Yes but we aren't fucking each other." "I'm glad to hear it. This started out with me liking you and us sharing a little fun. That was multiplied by three and as I've gotten to know each of you I've grown to love you too. Not smart maybe but you don't really have control over the people you fall in love with." I certainly hadn't had the opportunity to before. I saw Hailey get up and go to the water; she kept wading across the pool. Anna, remaining on the sand, looked a little upset. I watched Hailey energetically scrubbing herself with her hands and asked Rosalee to let me up. "Just for a while love, but I think I need to talk to the others for a minute or so." I sank down next to Anna and saw the tears in her eyes. I squeezed her hand gently. "I think I understand. Wait a bit." Then I went and sat with Hailey. She turned and threw herself at me so she could cry into my shoulder. I let her get the worst out of her system. "Can I tell you about a person who had been brought up believing something and who had then found that she wasn't sure it was true? It left her scared about herself, and about what she was going to do because it all felt so good and she knew it was wrong." "I don't know," she sniffed. "How does it go?" At least she giggled. "You liked what just happened. It might even have been better than what we shared." "Sorry." "There's no reason to be. You will always be coming across things you prefer to other things." "But I did like making love to you." "And I'm happy for that. I'm happy you liked making love with Anna as well and not only just because the two of you were awesome to watch - and to listen to!" "We were a bit noisy. But I can't... I mean, I like boys... well I like you." "Only like?" "Okay I love you! That's why I can't do that." "But you'd like to though, wouldn't you? And you're confused." "Yes I would and yes I am. But I'm not a lesbian!" "Of course you aren't, though I doubt it would really matter if you were provided you could be discrete. That is a label you associate with something good or bad. Consider instead just what you felt without trying to say what that makes you. Tell me, why didn't you kiss Anna? Does the idea of kissing a girl upset you now or is it just Anna?" We were speaking quietly so there was no risk of Anna hearing Hailey's reply. "Oh no. I wanted to, that's the problem; I should be kissing you." I can't disagree with that. "Come on then." I puckered up, hamming badly, and was still rewarded with a kiss. "You liked that? You want more?" Hailey nodded to both questions. "And you'd like to make love to me? Not right now, I understand." "Oh yes." "Then that's good." "But what if I want to kiss Anna, or Rosalee? What if I just have to rub pussies with Anna again?" "You don't think you might want to fuck me or eat me or have me eat you?" "Of course I do." "But you won't when it's not the right place or time, will you?" "No." "The why would it be any different wanting to do all those things with the others?" "Because if I don't control myself with you, people would understand but no-one would understand about me and Rosalee or me and Anna." "Or you and Anna *AND* Rosalee; or you and me and either or both of them; or you and maybe someone else?" "Not someone else. This is weird enough." "It is, isn't it; but seriously, because it is so weird, you might find someone and something a little saner and it could be with either a guy or a girl. You have at least some right to happiness." "I'm happy - just scared." "Isn't that when friends help the most?" "I guess." "Then why not tell them how you feel and why you're afraid." "But what if they don't understand?" "Hailey love, they certainly feel much the same about you as you do about them and you're kidding yourself if you think they aren't worried at least a little as well. Come on." Hailey stood with me and we put our arms around each other as we walked back to where Anna and Rosalee now sat together. Hailey fell to her knees beside Anna and hugged her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was just so scared. That felt too good and I knew I'd want to do it again." "I understand. It was more intense than I had thought." "But if we want to, how will we ever manage it? We can't easily get here and we can't be screaming like that at home even if we dared to do it. We'd get caught and you know that I'd be in more trouble than with Roger even if you wouldn't." "I think it would be 50:50 for me and a hell of a lot worse for Roger than for you. I guess we just have to wait for our opportunities." "Or make your own," I suggested from where I sat with my arm around Rosalee. "How?" asked Hailey. "Won't that make things that little bit more exciting? Working out what you're going to do, providing cover for each other, not sure if you're going to be interrupted, perhaps caught." I was making out their worst fears to be a bonus. "Think of the park. Anyone could have come along. If they'd hurried in we wouldn't have had a chance to cover up. If they'd taken their time we would still have looked suspicious. Didn't the hint of danger make you feel even more alive?" "Yeah, but..." "Just take things as they come; avoid anything you think is too risky and sneak in what pleasure you can. If you can only have a kiss when you're loading your gear into the back of the car, you have a kiss. If you can only tell each other what you'd like to do to them, then tell them and both of you 'remember' the conversation later. Do you still have sleepovers? You might not be able to invite me but you might be able to have a little fun." The girls looked at each other. did they want to have their fun without me? Perhaps not as much as with me but Anna and Hailey's pussy rub had essentially been a private matter at first - it wasn't as if I had been absolutely necessary, or even wanted. "Should we perhaps think of packing up? We can still go for a walk to the lookout - the short way - if you'd like, or we can lounge around here or, if you want, we can head home." That led to some discussion. Though we hadn't done a lot of hiking once we'd gotten here, the idea of climbing up another hill after we had scrambled down the rocks, climbed the side of the gully, and then followed the path down the ridge until it descended to the car park sounded like too much work. Regardless of when we left though, there was one task that needed doing and that was the ceremonial dipping of the bathing costumes - evidence they had been worn. It took all of thirty seconds accompanied by a little guilty laughter. That accomplished we packed the gear away and then did just laze around some more. I found myself dozing off and though I felt sure we were safe, I forced myself to clear my head. If I had to start kissing and cuddling the others to keep alert why then it would just have to be done! I started on Anna's belly. She and Hailey had been resting their heads on Rosalee's thigh and belly like and erotic letter Pi but Hailey moved across to Anna's shoulder so she could watch me. I made little nips and blew on Anna's skin eliciting little giggles; Anna buried her fingers in my hair. By the time I reached her breasts she was aroused enough to welcome the gentle attention. She didn't want anything more just yet but her body didn't object to being thrilled instead of detonated. It is only when you get a range of samples together than you really get to appreciate what variety there is in the female breast. Not simply size nor even shape. The girls' nipples looked different, reacted differently, felt different to the hand, lip and tongue. The breasts themselves had both firmness and mass that was not simply a function of size. Nipples were surrounded by circles of various colour, diameter, and propensity to crinkle when stimulated. I can honestly sat that the only preference I felt was for whichever one I was caressing at the time. Having attended to the breast on my side I couldn't neglect the other and that placed me conveniently to kiss Hailey as well - though not her breasts without leaning across Anna. Hailey met my mouth and challenged my tongue after inviting it in. It was a slow sensual kiss and I found myself stirring with the promise it made. Impossible! I thought. There was no way my body could be ready again surely. We extended that kiss with a series of nibbling kisses before I moved from her mouth to Anna's - patiently waiting for my arrival. Anna was a little more enthusiastic than Hailey - perhaps as a result of watching us next to her - but it was still a case of satisfaction rather than need. I loved the closeness I felt with both girls. As we kissed, Hailey turned her head and licked Anna repeatedly from collarbone to earlobe. I noticed Anna liked this and when our kiss finished I copied Hailey on the other side. Together we made Anna stiffen and when Hailey moved from neck to lips to replace me, Anna's hand (until then on Hailey's arm) pressed their mouths together quite violently. Rosalee had been waiting patiently herself and my jump from Anna's neck to Rosalee's breast was welcome to both of us. I moved from one side to the other, letting my hands gather the tit flesh into more significant peaks. With a little effort I could bring both nipples within range of my tongue and licked them simultaneously before it was Rosy's turn to have her neck scoured and her tongue massaged. Anna and Hailey followed me when I moved up to Rosalee's mouth and took over her breasts so she continued to feel both nipples being teased at once. It certainly made her kisses more interesting, even chaotic. I was forced aside before we had finished though and the two girls grabbed Rosalee's arms and made her sit up. First Anna kissed Rosalee and then Hailey did. While Hailey was still busy, Anna then squeezed in to join then in a three-way kiss that was fun to watch. I didn't have much chance to watch though as Anna pulled me in between her and Rosalee. There is enough room for four faces to just get close enough to have tongues in spirited contact all round but shoulders make it difficult - three really is a practical maximum. I stood on my toes and bent my head down but that didn't really work either. I considered the physical problems to a nonsensical activity. "Hang on. Hailey, come here please." I lay down and got her to lay on top of me - a most pleasant experience in itself. "If you two would like to lie on your sides with your feet in the opposite direction to ours this might work." While they got into position Hailey and I practised some more on our own. I think that spurred the others on so they weren't missing out. Kissing someone when upside down is yet another experience that feels quite different. Having *THREE* tongues to play with and which are actively playing with the others as well is like a box of puppies all scrambling over each other - if the puppies were hairless, legless and wet and slippery; and fitted in your mouth. Okay! It was nothing like a box of puppies *EXCEPT* how they scrambled over each other. The whole time, Hailey was staring into my eyes and her expression was far different from the worried young lady of a little while ago. I didn't doubt that she, and the others, would have second, third and fourth thoughts about the wisdom of fooling around with each other but they might not get as stressed over it. Hailey was no longer stressed at least. Well I assumed the way she had trapped my penis between her thighs and was moving one leg at a time to massage it was an indication she had relaxed - if I couldn't. We ended up breaking into laughter and I turned to give Anna a personal if inverted kiss then turned the other way to do the same with Rosalee. Of course I had to wait for Hailey didn't I. *AND* they decided not to come up for air for a considerable time. I learned a little more about kissing then, not so much technique but rather how it would be to be a conjoined twin forced to live cheek to cheek with your brother or sister and to feel their jaws moving against your own. Of course, if it were ever possible to have brother and sister joined, dating would be a very interesting experience. I suppose the same would apply if one were straight and the other homosexual. An interesting case for the nature vs nurture debate. I told you they didn't come up for air - I had time for a lot of weird thoughts!. Hailey finally let me kiss Rosalee but she didn't wait around for another herself. Crawling backwards, she didn't leave a trail of kisses as I had done but instead dragged Anna with her (quite willingly) to where they could attack the prong that Hailey had kept hard. Between my legs Hailey could lick from ball sack to the tip poking out of my foreskin. At the side Anna had only a slightly lesser range. I finished my kiss with Rosalee and asked, "Aren't you going to join them?" Rather selfish of me actually, lying back and letting three young ladies caress my rampant member while I just watched. Three tongues on your dick with up to six lips as well is a treat not to be quickly cast aside however and Rosalee was quite prepared to do her part. It was a generous gift and I would not have wished to have hurt their feelings by refusing. They worked together at the sides for a while then Rosalee shifted a little higher and covered the end with her mouth for a second. Hailey copied her once Rosalee was clear and Anna followed when it was her turn. I ended up with two girls kissing each other around the base of my prick while the third made sucking noises at the top. None of that observation represented a complaint. I knew I was going to come and gave as much warning as I could. "Let's watch it go off," suggested Hailey. Rosalee and Anna were quite happy to comply with her wishes and I had no say, not that I really wanted to argue. "Tell us exactly when," Anna instructed - surer of my ability to do so than I was. I'm pretty sure I could shout out "I'm coming" just before I did but probably not soon enough for whoever was in the firing line to react. The alternative was to have them stop too soon and then have to build up pressure again. It was Anna who finished the count down, blowing me properly and ending up in time to add "Ignition" and "Blast Off" from a safe distance. Really it was more like "Ready, Aim, Fire!" with her fast reflexes getting her out of the way of any bullets since my prick wasn't actually launched. Instead, cannon-like and elevated to something around 60, it shot round after round in the direction of my chest - much to the delight of the spectators. The marksmanship wasn't too good; placement was hopeless with no two shots hitting the same target and the range steadily decreasing after the first two rounds. The girls apparently considered it a success though as they hauled me up and into the water where they energetically washed all traces from my body. "I hope I'm not being silly but if we're sitting in the water couldn't your cum get inside us and make us pregnant?" "It's not at all silly Rosy - think of how fish and frogs reproduce. The only difference is that they put their eggs out into the water for the sperm to contact. Your eggs are a bit better protected since your lips would stop any water easily getting up inside you. If you had a blob on your finger and pushed it up inside then you might get enough sperm in place to make it more likely one would get through. I have no idea whether human sperm can live in fresh water long enough to survive the trip from my chest to your finger to your pussy but I'd suggest you don't really want to conduct *THAT* experiment." The girls subsequently seemed more fastidious washing their hands than they had my chest. Sand from the bottom of the pool was used to scour them and they closely inspected front and back to check for any signs, giving me an inspection as well. When we had dried off it was closer to when we should leave. Though we could take it easy on the way home rather than rushing to meet our curfew Hailey expressed the feelings of us all. "I don't really want the day to end!" "You *COULD* sleep over," suggested Anna hopefully. "Not on such a short invitation. My Mum and Dad would need a couple of days to consider what I could do wrong so they had an adequate list of dos and don'ts to give me first." "They'd end up in the guest room," I pointed out. "No. That wouldn't be any fun - at least for anyone but Rosy and Hailey! We'd have to camp out in my room after watching movies until 2:30 in the morning." "I'd have to be up to go to Mass." "You couldn't miss once?" "I'd have to go to confess all my lustful thoughts." Rosy was grinning. "You'll be in the confessional until the following Sunday," I countered adding, "Well if we call your parents perhaps you can both at least eat dinner with us and I can take you home later more like when you would be getting home if we'd gone out in the evening." "I like that idea," said Anna. "Would you like to stay for dinner?" "Your mother won't have enough ready." "It's Saturday so things are going to be informal. If we call we can pick up pizza or something on the way." "Okay then." "There is only poor reception here - we'll do it once we're on the way." The idea of spending the evening together, even with some parental supervision, spurred us on and we were soon down at the lower level. I had thought I showed no signs of our activity - certainly my body parts showed no redness or swelling from overuse. What I didn't consider was the fact that it also showed no sign of rigidity! In a naked teenage boy approaching naked females it was almost proof positive. That of course must have led to speculation amongst those still lying in or around the pool. We were certainly the object of much interest and probably had been a topic of conversation for them after we had passed through the first time. Some of the men grinned at me as I trailed after the girls - provided their wives and girlfriends were not watching them. Some of the women gave appraising stares - providing their husbands and boyfriends were not watching *THEM*. (Were they considering the significance of "its" limpness or looking for signs of the cause on the girls' bodies?) Dressing in front of them seemed odder than stripping off had; we had been joining their nude state before. We nodded to them as we headed off and a couple waved. I have to assume the call "Come again" was only intended as a friendly invitation. This time I got to carry the heavier items - it said a lot about the girls' more limited interest in further fun and games. However, a more limited interest didn't mean none whatsoever and I got lots of kisses and hugs as we made our way down the other side of the ridge. The car was safe as expected and we stowed out things in the back before having a look around the larger lake. It was always useful to be able to say you'd seen someone and to be seen by them when you were behaving properly. Hailey did see someone she knew and so for a minute or so we walked arm in arm to satisfy her need for public recognition then, a bit further on, Anna saw some people and I walked with Rosalee to *AVOID* public recognition. Anna at least appreciated this course of action now though I know we both found it frustrating. Back at the car a second time, there was a universal interest in sitting in the front. I myself wouldn't have minded occupying the back seat with one or even two of them - it didn't matter which ones. I better appreciated Mark's complaint now. "We have a good drive back; how about I stop and let you change around after maybe fifteen minutes?" "It's going to take longer than forty five minutes to get back home!" "Yeah but you might want to use the last stretch - when there are going to be more cars around - to get yourself straightened up." They were all quite prepared to get untidy on the way so this made sense - at least compared to the confusion over who should be in what order. I found some suitable grass, broke it into three lengths, and held them in my hand. "Long straw is first, short straw last - that way you aren't tempted to break any off - okay?" I offered them left to right and Hailey came up with the longest straw while Anna would be my final companion. No-one minded. Anna called home on my phone from the car park. "We're heading home soon and I wanted to know if Rosalee and Hailey can stay for dinner if it's okay with their parents? We were thinking we could pick up pizza's on the way and Roger could drop them home later. Okay. Yes, they are going to call now. Yes, we'll still be home before dark. Bye Ma. Thanks." She handed over the phone to Rosalee and I started the engine. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Assassin Part: Chapter 24 of 27 Summary: Ass, sass and sin. A young assassin does more than befriend people when he tries to get close to his targets. Keywords: Mfff-nosex ff-nosex Language: English Copyright: 2009 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* I needed a cover story while I got close enough to a slippery bastard called Adam Pringle to make sure he didn't cause any more grief in the world. Somehow I ended up screwing my foster-sister Anna as well as two of her friends, Hailey and Rosalie. Somehow we all fell in love. Somehow things are falling to pieces. *SOMEHOW* I've got to try and settle this mess without breaking too many hearts. ********************************************************* I ushered Hailey in before me - mere politeness rather than an attempt to use her as cannon fodder. "I'm back and I've got Hailey with me." My call saw two girls hurry out and Hailey was embraced enthusiastically while she tried to ask if Rosalee was okay. As Rosalee responded I asked Anna if Ma had briefed Doug at all yet. "Dad's caught up with a plumbing problem at one of the stores and won't be home for a while. I don't know if that is good or bad. He'd be helpful with Rosalee's problem but if he hears the rest he might not be interested." I had to trust Anna knew her father best; well at least after Ma. "Brent's home though so you might watch it over dinner. Ma is discrete; Brent is likely to tell all his drinking buddies first chance." "So I'm back to just being your boyfriend?" Hailey and Rosalee looked at the pair of us with some sorrow or envy in their eyes. "My disgraced boyfriend - until Brent goes out or upstairs and then you can be *OUR* disgraced boyfriend again." "How about the sleepover? Your mother said anything about that being okay?" Anna looked at me as if I was a stranger then realised I was teasing and thumped me. "You had me thinking you were serious!" "Let's see Ma. I've got some news and it's easier to tell it once." --- "Hello Hailey. Welcome to my nightmare." "Hello Mrs. Jamieson. Is it really that bad?" "No, but it is complicated and involves strongly held beliefs and short tempers and even some careless decisions." I added to Ma's litany. "It also involves a pile of clothes on a front lawn. Sorry love, I really think your father expects a whole lot of grovelling from you at the very least. Is it likely he's just trying to make a point and will let you go back?" If he was going to hurt Rosalee I didn't want her to go back. I could speak with him, warn him of the consequences of stepping the least bit out of line himself but I knew he wouldn't take any notice of me, both due to my age and to the fact that I was the offending party in his (quite justifiable) view. I had no quarrel with him being angry at me for making love to his daughter. It would be hypocritical of me to allow Doug his righteous anger and then condemn Mr. Lafayette. But taking it out on his daughter was a different matter. Had Doug been violent towards Anna, I wouldn't have stood idle or merely tried to ward his blows. Instead it would have been a quick rabbit punch to his kidney that would have doubled him over in relatively harmless pain. Mr. Lafayette needed someone he would listen to; someone with the authority to make him realise violence would only breed more problems. Of course, Rosalee was worried that people would steal all her clothes. "Love, look at the area you live in. People give their clothes to the charity and recycle stores; they don't shop there. Your clothes are going to be safe. We'll pick them up in a while." I really would prefer Doug to be the face of outraged support for Mr. Lafayette's daughter. It was discretion rather than cowardice since my own appearance would only inflame the situation. "But where am I going to go?" "We'll organise something. If necessary there is the motel." Now I was giving Ma information she didn't need to have. Had she picked up "the" rather than "a"? "We've got a guest room free - Rosalee could stay with us, couldn't she Ma?" "Let's see if we can't smooth things over with her family first - that would be best." Even Rosalee agreed with that though she appeared to be as doubtful of it happening as I. To avoid the issue for a little longer Ma began to serve dinner. "Have you eaten Hailey?" "No. Mum has got mine at home." "Well you may as well have a bite here with us. Doug is going to get something for himself so there is plenty." "Thank you." Hailey would deal with a second meal later; it would be easier not being the only one not eating. If Brent was surprised at guests on a Monday night, he said nothing. I guess with a couple of attractive girls to look at he had no reason to object. Matters were a little strained though as the topics we wished to discuss were not for Brent's ears and, so, much of the conversation dwelt on what he was doing. At least the food was delicious though Rosalee's appetite suffered from her expulsion and she had to leave half her plate untouched. Brent went upstairs when he had finished and we cleared up and moved into the Family Room. I let Hailey share the lounge with Rosalee between her and Anna and watched as Ma considered how the three girls had so resembled Anna, Rosalee and myself earlier. She turned the TV on as background noise so Brent would have trouble overhearing us. "When I heard what the four of you had been up to I was amazed and then I thought it wasn't that much different from all the 'Free Love' messages that were being spread in the Sixties. Oh, I'm not old enough to have been involved or even to have been conscious of what was really being said at the time but when people began producing documentaries in the seventies and eighties they kept on about it. I never really knew anyone who was a part of it personally." "I don't think that really applies Ma. We're not interested in other people." "Especially *STEPHANIE*," Rosalee appended to Anna's comment and looked at me with a mock glare. I was pleased to see she wasn't entirely bound up by her father's attitude. "Don't blame me. I said flat out I wasn't available." "Well so did I!" responded Anna. "Available - not that you weren't interested," charged Rosalee. "Stephanie?" asked Ma. "A girl who tried to hit on us." "Roger *AND* you?" "And she would probably have asked Rosalee and Hailey if they'd been interested. We *WEREN'T* interested despite Rosy's pedantic nature and that was that - at least it shows we were not just looking for sex though, doesn't it?" "I guess so Anna. I'm more worried why she thought *YOU* might be interested in other girls." "We think it's because of how we three react to each other now. You know how your eyes get wider when Dad comes home?" "They do?" "They do," I confirmed. "Okay," said Ma. "I am going to say that I accept you all have something. What to call it, how it is going to turn out - in the short term or long - I don't have the foggiest but I won't object to it in principle. That said, I have to consider how you, as high school students, need to behave. I know I have no say over Rosalee and Hailey but if you two are - let's say 'dating' for now. If you are dating Roger and/or Anna then whatever restrictions Doug and I apply to them *WILL* affect you. You might consider why we feel they are necessary and adopt them between yourselves anyway." Rosy and Hailey nodded. Ma was likely to be far more lenient than their own parents. "Well then. I won't say don't have sex. I feel that it would be pointless trying to make that sort of rule when you ignored it before. Instead I'll ask you to make sure you are safe. I'd rather you were here where you've got privacy than somewhere that puts you in danger. You want to say something Roger?" "Just that, while we were possibly reckless I've always made sure there was no actual danger other than being caught." "You were caught last night and Rosalee is suffering for it. I think that shows that you weren't exactly safe." I had to concede Ma was right. Being caught had been a trivial problem - I had only assessed the danger in terms of how it affected my job. I should, if I cared for my three loves, have more seriously considered how being caught would affect them! Ma noticed my thoughtful look. "Now that doesn't mean you turn up here and spend the whole weekend in bed - or hopping in and out of each other's beds. You are young! Be active; do other things. Go on dates, and not always as the four of you. "Anna, I've thought about your request and I think it is important for you and Roger to continue to have your own space for now. I've got to talk to your father - we've spoken today about you two but I have to let him know about Rosalee and Hailey as well. You needn't worry about him saying anything to anyone or reacting badly - well no more than this morning and I don't think that was unreasonable." This time Anna and I nodded. "*IF* it is necessary, Rosalee can stay here tonight. I won't make any promises dear but don't worry that you're going to be left with nowhere to sleep for the present. It might not be practical as a long term option for any number of reasons but we will deal with those if and when they arise. However that too isn't an open license for any of you. Okay?" Even Hailey added her okay to the chorus. "So I guess the first thing we need to do is to see whether you and your parents can be reconciled. Any suggestions?" "It was the neighbour's story that upset Rosalee's father. If we can counter that he might reconsider." "Okay Roger. How do you suggest we could do that?" Ma used the crisis as a means of judging us. Would we lie for each other (and was that a good or bad thing)? How responsible would we prove? Could we reach consensus or were there serious power issues with me controlling the other three? Acknowledging that we were an unusual group was one thing; seeing if it was a healthy relationship was another. Ma cared about her own daughter first, as she should. If Anna was safe and happy then she could consider her responsibilities towards me and, after that, Rosalee and Hailey. I could accept that; we four had similar priorities ourselves. "The first point raised was that Rosalee was with me in the park. If we inform Mr. Lafayette that Rosalee was with both Anna and me we should be able to convince him that, at worst, I was kissing Anna." "Were you?" Ma started her interrogation. "Well, sort of. Once properly I think." "And did you kiss Rosalee?" "Yeah. A couple of times." "How about anything else?" "No. I held Anna - hugged her. That was all." Ma looked at me incredulously. Anna responded. "I was the one there with Rosalee Ma. Remember!" "I remember now. I find it hard to get my head around it." "Well Roger and Rosalee had alre..." "No. I don't need the details and I certainly don't want them - knowing you all get together does not mean I need vivid images." "Sorry Ma." "Was that all that would have upset your father, Rosalee? Kissing Roger doesn't seem that much and it sounds like there wasn't anything else the neighbour could have honestly reported." "When Roger and Anna were leaving I did the striptease, remember?" "I hadn't. Okay. What would he have seen?" "I turned around I guess and then leaned against the window." "Nothing more?" "No. Mom called out to me and I had to get dressed in a hurry." "Well then, let's try acting it out; it's a technique we used to use in conflict resolution when I was in college *WAY* back. I'll play Rosalee's parent. Which one is likely to answer the phone?" "Probably my mother, now." "And would she pass the phone over to your father?" "If he hasn't been drinking. If he's gotten worked up over me he quite possibly could have been." "Right. Roger, you are me. I'll be Rosalee's mother. You others feel free to make suggestion about what I would really say if you think I'm off the mark. Ring, ring. Hello?" "Mrs. Lafayette, it's Elsie Jamieson here, Anna's mother. I've got Rosalee here; she turned up after school rather upset, saying she'd gotten into trouble over something but it was all a misunderstanding." "A misunderstanding! Did she tell you what she was doing with that boy you've got living with you?" "With Roger? He's the sweetest, most innocent - not to mention hands..." "You're not being serious enough!" "Sorry Ma. Er, Rosalee has told me what you believe happened. Something about being caught with Roger in a park?" "My neighbour walked in on them alone together in the park after dark - he interrupted them fooling around." "But they weren't alone together. You know that Anna and Roger both went to dinner at Hailey's house don't you? Anna told me she was with them the whole time when they escorted Rosalee home. I rather doubt that he would have been doing anything improper with *YOUR* daughter that evening when I'm embarrassed to say he was found with *MY* daughter in compromising circumstances the very next morning." Ma called time out. "You think that a wise argument? It could lead to Anna's reputation being tarnished." "I have a reputation?" "Currently a good one - I hope." "No, I couldn't believe anyone cared enough about what I did to give me a reputation, good or bad. Besides, I don't think this would matter to anyone I know. If I was fugh.. sleeping with anyone and everyone then I'd get a phone number graffiti rep but if I had a single boyfriend then everyone would assume we were doing *SOMETHING* anyway. To be caught almost doing something or almost caught actually doing something would be quite normal." "You'd discuss these things?" Even Rosalee and Hailey nodded that these were topics of conversation with close friends. "Okay, where were we then? You'd just told me that you'd caught Roger and Anna having sex." "No, I said in compromising circumstances. Anna had slept with me, not *SLEPT* with me - at least then." "I stand corrected and a little relieved. Okay then, how would Mr. Lafayette interpret that?" "He'd think you walked in on them while they were hard at it." "And thank you Rosalee for that vivid imagery." "Sorry." Anna hugged her. "Don't worry love. That's one of the things I find attractive about you." I silently agreed. "Okay, you make the 'compromising situation' and I go '*WHAT*?' so how do you clarify my misunderstanding?" "She felt she needed to have a cuddle and they fell asleep." "And you believe her?" "In this matter yes because she could have lied about things she knew I would disapprove of and didn't." "What sort of things?" Anna coached me; I answered "That doesn't matter now. What I'm concerned about is your daughter is suffering because you were prepared to listen to your neighbour and not her." "Did she tell you about showing herself to anyone who could walk by?" I suspect Ma was also using the role play to say things she would felt she couldn't express without making it harder for the girls to confide in her in future. "She said your neighbour told you something about seeing her naked in her bedroom. If it was my daughter I might tell her to be more careful about closing her curtains and wonder how often my neighbour has been keeping an eye on her window." "Nasty Roger!" said Hailey. "He said she was flaunting herself." "And has Rosalee ever done anything similar before? Why are you so willing to accept another's word without giving her at least the benefit of the doubt?" "I guess I would give in at that stage if it was me," said Ma. "I don't know about your parents Rosalee. That was very well argued Roger." "I guess I've been thinking of ways of explaining what happened...not that I'd ever do that to you or Doug." "Yes. Well. I doubt I could come up with anything better without serious further thought and I believe now is an opportune time to call your home since your father has had time to calm down and consider the consequences of what he has done." Rosalee smiled at Ma. "Thank you for doing this for me." "You're welcome Rosalee. You want to enter the number for me please?" She passed Rosalee the handset and waited while Rosalee dialled her home number. Rosalee handed it over and we sat quietly listening to Ma working her way through the script. Rosalee's father actually answered and nothing went quite the way we had intended. Ma got a little flustered at one point and explained it to us after she had finalised the call with an unsatisfactory "Well if that's how you feel, I'll be around shortly to pick up the clothing I believe you've put out for her. Is there anything else she should collect? Her school things perhaps? Oh that's not necessary. If you gave her a few minutes I'm sure she could do that for herself. No? Well then..." "No go?" asked Anna, not really expecting a reply. "What went wrong?" "Nothing to start with other than none of my comments seemed to sway him in the least. He dropped a bombshell on me that I wished you'd considered though. Apparently you keep a diary Rosalee?" "He *READ* it!?" "I don't think I need to answer that." "What did it say Rosy love?" "Not much really. Only a few words to jog my memory. I can't believe he read it." "Rosy," said Hailey. "He threw your clothes out." "And your school books as well," added Ma. "I hope you don't have any homework you need to hand up; it might get blown away." "Damn, what am I going to do about school?" Hailey, attending the same convent-based school was aware of the situation. "The semester is paid for in advance so you get to finish the year. Next year might be different." "And that comes under things to be worried about later," I pointed out. "What did he say about my diary?" "First he read out an entry for a Saturday. Something like 'I was an idiot but in the end everything was perfect.' I think that was it." "I meant the day. I was thinking of dinner when I wrote it." "Well he also had entries that he linked to the other times you were out with Roger. Things like 'I'm a woman for real now. Wonderful, I love him.' That sort of thing. He said you'd drawn a heart with 'RT' inscribed." Rosalee was a little embarrassed. "Well I do! I only meant that I knew I'd been mistaken about before and knew the difference and it *WAS* wonderful!" "We know," Hailey confessed, actually admitting her part to Ma. Ma picked up the phone again and called Doug. He was still detained. Normally the manager of the store could have managed the plumbers as well but he had two days off with his own personal crisis. "*I'LL* have to take you over to get your things Rosalee. I don't think it is advisable for Roger to take you by himself." "I agree." Ma was worried for me; I didn't want to see Mr. Lafayette hurt, however pleasing that might be. "I'll help you load the car but I think I'd better go home after that if you don't mind." "Certainly Hailey," Ma acknowledged. --- Rosalee's father hadn't thrown Rosalee's school work out. Knowing an adult was coming to collect her things, he'd made an effort to look a little more rational - if tossing your sixteen year old daughter out onto the street can be considered rational by any definition Rosalee's clothes were in one relatively neat set of piles, her school bag then divided the path to their front door from stacks of books and folders. It was as though they had built a wall to keep Rosalee and her supporters away. "Roger, there is nothing heavy - would you just stay by the car and try to stack things in as best you can please." Ma didn't want me actually on the property. They cleared the school things first. I restacked them at the back of the trunk. Next came Rosalee's clothes - so many of them, items I'd never seen including outfits that she couldn't have fitted into for a couple of years. It seems her father had simply thrown out anything in her drawers and wardrobe. Underneath it all was her diary, the pages torn out and scattered. For Rosalee it was a potent symbol. Her life had been recorded in there for the past two and a half years; little notes that told a simple story. Now they were so much scrap and her father had said to her "All you were is gone" in one of the most damaging ways. Anna and Ma were by the car and we all turned at Rosalee's anguished cry. "*NO*!" Rosalee was on her knees, grabbing at the fragments of paper as the light breeze lifted them from where they had been hidden. Hailey knelt and between them they had most of the litter gathered up before the rest of us could join them. Rosalee was weeping and accepted the scraps Hailey had gathered. Hailey wrapped her arms around Rosalee and held her tightly. She rubbed her hand over the back of Rosalee's head. "Hush Rosy love. It will be okay." She kissed Rosalee's cheek as Anna and then I knelt beside them. Ma glared at the house and at the closed curtain that still moved in the window. She grabbed another pile of clothes. "Come on, let's get these packed away and get out of here. Hailey, would you take Rosalee to the car please?" "I'll be all right," said Rosalee and with Hailey and my help she stood. A piece of paper fell from her hand and she just looked down at it; stunned until Anna bent and retrieved it. "Come on Rosy love. Forget the rest. Just come and sit with me in the car." Anna and I watched them move off and then helped Ma. They piled my arms with clothes and I just dumped them in the back, completely filling it. Anna had more on her lap in the back next to Rosalee and Ma put the remainder on my lap in the front. "You okay Rosalee?" "I guess. Thank you for everything Mrs. Jamieson." "You're under my roof, you'd better get used to calling me Ma. You too Hailey." "Thank you Ma." There was no time to say anything before we were at Hailey's and she had to leave. With the piles of clothes Anna and I stayed where we were so Rosalee said goodbye on our behalves before Hailey got out of the car. It was a quite open kiss, not erotic in an X-rated movie sense but very much so as a romantic, two-people-in-love kiss. Ma was the only public they actually had but I could see she wasn't unmoved by the sight. "If you're going to school tomorrow I'll come over early and we can go together." "Thanks. I'd better. You know, it's an 'if you don't brush your teeth then the terrorists have won' sort of thing. I'm going to get good grades so I can get a scholarship and won't need them any more." "You've got us," said Hailey. "And you know we love you," added Anna. "Thank you." Hailey waved from the doorstep and Ma drove off as she walked through the door. --- Doug was not upset so much as confused and disturbed. He kept looking at me as though this was all my fault. I guess he had some justification. It was after 11 and Anna had settled Rosalee in bed with her - and with her mother's blessing - almost as soon as we had gotten home. I had an invitation to visit but I knew Ma would disapprove if I did more than call in and kiss them goodnight. She had reacted with such generosity and understanding that I wasn't going to deliberately strain matters. She and I had unloaded the car into the guest room as quickly as possible and we were both tired from all the stairs by the time we were finished. Brent had looked at us but other than asking "What's up?" and being told Rosalee was staying over he didn't offer to help. Jerk! We ended up in the kitchen, drinking coffee while we waited for Doug to turn up. Ma was incensed at Rosalee's treatment and couldn't understand how I could be so calm. "Rosalee is safe, her father won't hurt her though he might decide to try. If I got upset I might be tempted to do something and that wouldn't solve anything now. I read a quote once that said 'Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent' but I think that is wrong. It's often the first tool the incompetent use and perhaps the last of the desperate. I'm not desperate and I hope I'm not incompetent - that sounds more like Rosalee's father. Instead I think competent people restrict violence to where it can be applied like a surgeon's knife. The problem is knowing the tumour from the healthy tissue. "Mr. Lafayette is a tumour but he's not much different from many others in society. He's not the raging malignancy but rather the ugly growth that is otherwise a benign nuisance. Some might make the effort to get rid of such things but it can be better to just ignore them and deal with the things that really matter." "That is quite profound Roger." "Yeah, well I guess I read a little Philosophy when I'm not reading History." I also spout off too much! It *MAY* have been my philosophy but it shouldn't have been Roger's. A little while later Doug walked in weary from his long and stressed day and found the problems hadn't finished. The day had started with his sixteen year old daughter in bed with his seventeen year old foster son - or so he thought. Ignoring his problems at work he now kept looking at me while Ma informed him that, - Not only had I admitted actually having sex with Anna, I was also having sex with Rosalee and with Hailey. - Not only was I having sex with Rosalee but, because her father had become aware of the fact, she had become yet another house guest. - Not only was Rosalee a house guest for an indeterminate period but she also - like Hailey - happened to be lover's with, once again, Doug's sixteen year old daughter. And... - Not only had his daughter spent the last night in bed with one of her lovers, she was doing the same with another of them as Ma spoke. I hoped Doug had good medical cover as his blood pressure must have kept on climbing as she spoke. "Anna is having sex with two girls as well as with Roger and you bring one of them into the house after her father kicks her out!?" "What would you have me do? Besides, they're in love." "I thought she said she is in love with Roger?" "Perhaps I should have said the four of them are in love." Doug looked at Ma now, wondering if it was all a giant practical joke. "Ridiculous!" "I agree. It is sheer madness but I also think it is quite real if just as impractical." Doug glared at me again. I had wisely stayed quiet. "Oh go on! You can talk. I'm not going to knock you around." "Thank you." "Don't bother thanking me. I just don't see how throttling you and ending up in jail is going to make things better." "That at least shows you're not incompetent dear." "What?" Doug looked at Ma. "You aren't using violence to solve your problems - unlike Rosalee's father." Doug could understand that but not why the topic seemed to have changed. The mysteries of a woman's mind perhaps. "So where do we go from here?" "To bed I think and Rosalee will go off to school with Hailey in the morning. After that I guess we take things one step at a time." "I meant about Anna and Roger - and I suppose the others." "I'd say the damage is well and truly done and we have to recognise the situation that exists. That doesn't mean there are no rules - we've already discussed some of them and you and I can work out what we feel is appropriate. All three will have their own rooms but, provided their behaviour is satisfactory and precautions are taken, some visitation is to be permitted." "I don't like it but I don't like Anna sneaking around either. *YOU* had better look after them though. I can't see how you can love three girls at the same time; having sex is easy but cheating on a girl normally means you don't love her." "We don't cheat - we know and share our love." "It's all rather sixties Doug. I find that the best way to think about it when necessary - otherwise I try not to think about it at all. And on that note I *WILL* go to bed." We all got up. "I am sorry things have gone weird and thank you for being the sane ones around the place today." "But not sorry for starting this mess in the first place?" "I can't be sorry for finding someone I can love who loves me back. I can't even feel bad about finding three someones. I *AM* doing what I can not to add any more to the list." "Well thank you for that at least Roger. Goodnight and go to bed - your own! - you've got school tomorrow." "I will." --- I was only out of the shower and in bed for a quarter of an hour when I heard my phone buzzing in silent vibration mode. It might not actually make the buzzing sound but hard plastic bouncing up and down on the top of the bedside cupboard created quite a local racket. Since this number was not generally available I was on alert right away. "Yes?" "A heads up. Your third is walking the streets in your direction with a couple of packs." I thought quickly. "She safe out there?" "I'm watching. It's not on the J.D. but I guess you aren't down as a marriage counsellor." Hubby! "It's under 'Other duties as required'. Thanks for that. I guess it's better for me to meet her than to have her turn up and not be sure whether to wake everyone up." Hubby gave me a street name and I hung up. The call had gone on for too long; four seconds was usual. I was sure to be capping a lot of flak sometime soon. I dressed and slipped down the stairs and out the back door. No-one was going to rob the house in the next twenty minutes and I really didn't want to give away all my secrets to Ma and Doug. Hailey looked scared when I turned up but grabbed me when I asked "Hailey? What are you doing out?" "Don't *DO* that! I though you were a rapist! Why are you out here?" "I was worried about you." That was *VERY* honest yet said nothing. "You were right to be. Rosalee's parents decided I behaved too friendly when she found her diary. There were apparently some other entries that didn't make sense to her parents until they thought in terms of Rosalee being with me or Anna. I guess she wanted to be able to go back to the first moments she realised she loved us as well as you." "Since you know about it they must have spoken to your parents." "Not long after you dropped me off. Then we had a very long talk. My parents actually started out like Ma and so I decided I should be honest like you were, though not as explicit. I did take it a little at a time and things seemed to be going okay. I found out they realised any criticism on their part would stop my confession. Rosalee needn't feel she was stupid - I've got the monopoly on that tonight." "Hey, there is nothing stupid about expecting your own parents to be loving enough to give you a fair hearing." "Yeah well my loving parents have decided that I'm to have nothing more to do with any of you. I'm to be sent to my Aunt's first thing in the morning and wasn't even going to be allowed to say goodbye. I overheard them talking after I'd been sent to bed and they figure I've been brainwashed. Then they are going to have me spend some time with a deprogrammer who normally works with people recovered from cults or else at one of those 'tough love' boot camps. They figure once I am in isolation at my Aunt's they can get some psychiatrist to work out which I need." "So how did you get out?" "Same way you've been misbehaving - through the window. I used my nailfile to punch a hole in the screen and then worked my way down the edge until I could tear out a big enough hole to get out." "Enterprising! What do you have in mind?" "I was hoping you'd have an idea. I can't very well stay with you and Anna. Even if Ma would accept another refugee, I don't want them to get into trouble and you can be sure my parents will have the police around there as soon as they know I'm missing. I know I don't want to go home again; my parents proved as bad as Rosalee's." "Okay. I've got an idea but I should speak to some people first. Shall we get you settled then I'll do that and we might then see about disturbing Doug's beauty sleep." "Who are these people?" "I can't say right now. If it's okay I'll try to explain." We hastened through the night. If Hailey's parents did discover she was missing they could drive over after her or call the police or both. I needed to get the ball moving before either of those things happened. Hailey was quiet - almost as quiet as me - as we snuck through the house. Fortunately the stairs didn't creak and the hinge on my bedroom door didn't squeak. "Try and rest. You might need to stay awake later. I'll be back soon and if anyone does come looking for you, you can climb out here and hide." I showed Hailey how to manipulate the screen. "The police might come looking so we'll start by hiding your things in with Rosalee's." "You're not going to disturb her!" "She's in with Anna." "And her parents know?" "Yeah." Hailey slowly repeated herself. "Anna's parents let them sleep together? And mine want my brain fried. You think I should forgive and forget?" With a hug and a kiss, I left and Hailey changed into a simple singlet and boxers outfit - all she really had for night attire when she might have to move in a hurry. I hadn't warned her not to move around but Hailey was in some need. People went to the toilet during the night so it wouldn't be an unusual sound for the others to hear. Hailey knew that I used the closer bathroom so that's where she went but she wasn't expecting to confront Brent when she came out. "You staying over too? I thought it was just the other one." Hailey just smiled and put her finger to her lips; other people *WERE* trying to sleep! Brent watched her return to my room and must have thought how lucky I was. I only wish I could have taken advantage of Hailey lying in my bed but I was busy. I had to wake at least one important person up and to do that I needed to go through two levels of subordinates. Fortunately the first level - the Officer of the Watch for the want of an actual title - was Hubby and he and Jane had been sympathetic. He would be able to connect me to the Project Leader who could authorise a change of exit plans to meet the new situation *BUT* he couldn't give me the permissions I needed for *MY* new plans. I would not be getting back to Hailey any time soon. Hubby picked me up and we eyed each other up close for the first time. I wasn't really competition for him and I think he realised it. At most I was the challenge Jane has suggested; one he had decided to accept to her benefit. I could talk to my supervisor in the car as we drove around once Hubby called the number for me. That number changed at least daily and I didn't have access to it except through the OOD or via a scramble number that I did know. Misuse of that link was potentially fatal though and I couldn't justify even thinking about it in the current circumstances. It took close to two hours for me to state my case - twice - and to have it deliberated. The changed exit story wasn't too much trouble; much of the background material consisted of modifications to computer records and we were good at that. An "actor" would have a different "script" or perhaps a different actor would be required and my salary would be a little less because of it. I didn't care about that. I didn't care that I would be placing myself in front of a Psych-Review panel. People I loved were in trouble and I had a possible solution but before I could put it to *THEM* I had to explain it to some shadowy figures. As I said, twice! If there is an advantage to working for my employers it's that they appreciate replacement staff are not easy to find. There are plenty of people who can be trained to be soldiers, capable of killing an enemy actively out to get them and a smaller number who can remain cool enough to take out a target on command as a member of a S.W.A.T. team when the public is threatened. To find someone who can do my job, eradicating the vermin who manage to avoid the law before they can damage even more lives, while still remaining sane is not so easy. I was one of many "recruited". I was one of the very few selected. If my solution had involved the removal of one or more of Rosalee's or Hailey's parents, my usefulness might well have been over. But I didn't care too little for those around me, the question I would face was whether I cared too much. I didn't believe so. I didn't have to play the resignation card. If I had suggested it I knew it would have been accepted. In fact, when asked if I felt I could continue regardless of how matters were resolved, I answered with a clear "Yes". That was just before I was asked to wait. It took around an hour. It felt far, far longer. --- While I waited I asked Hubby what had happened about the surveillance I had requested. "How come we didn't know about Hailey before she headed out onto the streets?" Hubby had heard my repeated explanation. "Rosalee's father must have called before we had his house covered. We started the ball rolling straight away but we still needed to get people in place and that required an okay even though you were footing the bill. We were getting into position at Hailey's when we saw her. That's when I called you." "Oh. Okay. Thanks, really, thanks for everything." "You're welcome." --- My continued loyalty to my employers while I demonstrated my concern for my loved ones probably would work in my favour when my review occurred but I didn't think of that until later. It certainly did help that night. "Request approved!" With restrictions and some modifications however. That didn't matter. I had managed to pass the first hurdle and, while it was not the highest one, I was optimistic about the rest. Foolish I know, but I was young, and in love, and so sure of myself. Hubby - now Ted - drove me home again. We'd had plenty to talk about while we waited though much of it was to do with various resorts and what was good or not so good. As I got out and thanked him, Ted shook my hand. "If you ever run into me or the missus on holiday feel free to introduce yourself. It would be a pleasure to meet you." "Thanks Ted and pass on my regards." It was unlikely we would meet and if we did we wouldn't recognise each other but it might be possible to meet for the first time - subject to wave offs. I couldn't think of a nicer couple of oldies to spend time with other than Ma and Doug. Ma and Doug! Not the next hurdle but one I expected to require almost as much time convincing. Oh well, Hailey was going to have to be my first challenge after I went inside. That would at least give me some indication if I was crazy or not. Hailey had managed somehow to fall asleep and she looked lovely in my bed. I kissed her cheek and her eyes opened. "Oh!" "Sorry to surprise you." "Not much else you could do in the circumstances. How did things go?" "I've got to own up to a few things. I hope you don't get mad at me because a lot of it is out of my control and it's not safe to tell you everything." Hailey snuggled into my arms as though to reassure me nothing I said could stop her loving me, or perhaps it was in the hopes that nothing I said *WOULD* stop her loving me. The story I told her was the same I subsequently repeated to Anna and Rosalee and then to Anna's parents. "Firstly my name isn't Roger Torrent, or rather it wasn't. I can't tell you what it was so I'm staying Roger. I've certainly been happier as Roger than I ever was before. "I was placed here through something like Witness Protection and my past has to stay hidden. It's not only for my safety but also for yours and everyone else who is around me. I've spoken to the people who look out for me and explained what has happened to you and Rosalee. I've got some problems too and between us we came up with a possible solution." "What sort of problems?" I was touched that Hailey would be more worried about my possible plight before she considered the solution to her own. "It turned out the people who are interested in me were distant associates of Adam Pringle, the guy whose house burned down on the weekend. It wasn't obvious at the time and still isn't proven but there is some thought that his family's deaths were not accidental. My problem is that those people I mentioned may feel the same way and if they start looking at who he's had dealings with someone may recognise me." "What does that mean?" "I mean it is no longer safe for me to stay here. I'll have to go." "No! But I love you. I don't want you to go." "Neither do I but if I stay anyone around me is at risk too." There were flaws in my story. If I was recognised by mobsters Hailey and the others would be just as likely to suffer since the mobsters would see if they knew where I was hiding. Whether they did or not, there would be no further witnesses. I had to hope I could convince them that the risk to me would soon be over. "I'd come with you!" "Which was one option I considered but you might want to think about an alternative." "Which is?" "Anna's parents be made your legal guardians because of what your parents intend to do. Rosalee might want to consider the same. The people I spoke to can make this happen almost immediately." "How?" "You'd be made wards of the state and put into their foster care in place of me and then that would subsequently be converted to guardianship." "Why would Anna's parents take us on?" "Perhaps because you would want to go with me if they didn't." "Well I do want to go with you so I still can't see how that would make them change their minds." "If you want to leave with me, do you think Rosalee would feel strongly enough towards her parents to hold her back from wanting to the same?" "I guess not." "So we are left with Anna, torn between her parents and her three lovers. If you were her parents would you feel she wouldn't go running off to join us even if she decided to stay right now?" "But her parents *DO* love her." "I agree. That would mean Anna wouldn't want to break all ties but she might still feel she had to be with us more than living with her parents. It would only be leaving the nest earlier than expected." "Yeah. They would worry and Anna would be just as likely to run away in those circumstances." "So I want to try and convince Ma and Doug that looking after the three of you is a workable solution to keeping their family together." "That might work but we'd still be without you." "I know and I'd miss you - so much so that I'd have to come back as often as possible to see you." "How often?" "Ah, now comes the next confession. I'm actually older than I said; only a couple of years. With a cover job like a salesman I can roam around a little and call in fairly frequently. I might need to spend a month away but then I'd have about a month here." "Would Anna's parents let you stay? Would it be *SAFE* for you to stay?" "By then it would but I was thinking of getting a place of my own." "How? If you're staying here you won't be making many sales. How will you live?" "My father might not have been as respectable as I suggested though he was nothing like Adam Pringle. His death did leave me, well, better off than I was when he was alive. I'm not poor and in a couple of years I'll be able to go wherever I like without having to look over my shoulder. I hoped I wouldn't travel alone." "You're serious?" "Yes. Why shouldn't I be?" "Well you've told me your name isn't Roger..." "Wasn't. I became Roger; right now I am Roger." "Okay then you're what, 19 or 20? Which does explain a bit since you are much more self-assured than some of the guys who *ARE* seventeen. You are rolling in dough - which explains how you can afford to take us out to expensive dinners. You are full of secrets - how do I know this isn't just one more story? What *HAVE* you told me up until now that's been 100% true?" "That I love you with all my heart." "Bastard!" "Why??" "Because that is the one thing I want to believe; that I have to believe - and you have to know it!" "Hailey, I can't tell you everything about me. Some things I don't want to talk about; some I can't without risking your life. It isn't a game, or a joke. I'd rather just walk away now than risk you getting hurt - and I don't mean your feelings. I will be as straight as I can be though you might have to wait for some answers. But never doubt that I will always tell you my true feelings for you." Hailey wasn't entirely happy with knowing I wasn't quite the person she had fallen for and yet I was. I hadn't done anything (to her knowledge) that would be grounds for not loving me and it wasn't something she could turn off and on. She was still in my arms and I was holding her just as lovingly as I'd always done. I won't say that I won her over - the battle was all her own - but Hailey did kiss me. "One day - the *TRUTH*" "When I can, I promise." "Before I'm sixty!" "At least a week before." I liked the idea of long term planning when it concerned someone like Hailey. "That settled, I need to give Anna and Rosalee a similar heads up. You can come if you want love but I really think it best if no-one knows that you are here." "Er, actually, Anna's brother ran into me outside the bathroom." "Oh well, in that case, you may as well come and add your two cents as well - but we have to be quiet." Hand in hand, we tiptoed down the corridor. I tried Anna's door and found it unlocked. Anna expected her parents to respect her privacy without the need to snib it and I carefully crossed the floor in case they had moved down there rather than being squashed in the bed. Parting the curtain I heard the door carefully close and I turned to see Rosalee's head resting on Anna's chest. Sleeping, they looked as attractive as Hailey had. We both knelt beside the bed and I woke Anna. "Mmm? I was wondering if you'd turn up. Huh? Hello, love. What are you doing here?" "Some overflow from Rosalee's situation," I informed her. "My parents want to kill the parts of my brain that make me love you and Rosy," Hailey elaborated. Rosalee, disturbed by Anna's talking, picked up on the repeated use of her name. "Oh, hello. Is it morning already?" "No. Hailey has had to run away from home and I've got a few things you two need to hear." "Now?" "Hailey might have to disappear before morning and you will probably want to talk with her first." "What about?" We made ourselves comfortable. --- "Did you know about Mr. Pringle before you became friends with his kids?" Trust Anna to pick that up! She was sitting up at one end of the bed with Rosalee resting back against her. The covers didn't reach as far as their breasts with Hailey and I under the quilt at the other end. Very disturbing to look at though Hailey in her underwear next to me was just as tantalising. I answered Anna. "Yes. I guess it was risky going near the place. I might have found out something useful but instead I have to go." Anna repeated Hailey's earlier sentiment only a second before Rosalee. "I don't want you to go!" "I can't stay without endangering you but I can come back soon and I should be able to get a place of my own." "No need to find secluded spots to relax." "No climbing out windows," I teased. "I kind of liked you climbing in mine," responded Anna. "No reason he can't if it's his own place." Anna had no problem being the incentive for her parents to take charge of her lovers. She didn't want to just up and leave - not if she couldn't keep in touch and return easily - but she didn't want to be left behind. Rosalee actually had been more inclined to stay with Anna if the alternative was to abandon her. The incentive to complete high school at the top of her class was a temptation and one I was willing to encourage. The girls would see no more of me if they were with me than they would here. While I was working they would be alone. Here there would be other distractions and I hoped I would be greeted warmly on my return. Absence can make the heart grow fonder but it can also make the eye look in other directions. A three-way dynamic was likely to prove less stable than the four of us together. It might change the *US* I had grown to appreciate but better to face those sorts of pressures when Ma was here to offer advice than when they were isolated together somewhere distant. In just over a year they would graduate. Then perhaps we could share our house while those who wished to continue their studies did so. Again, the time to earn a degree or start a career would allow us all to mature so that when sixteen became twenty-one or -two and I retired, each woman that they became could make up her mind whether she was prepared to follow a sensibly hedonistic lifestyle as a world traveller knowing she had made her own way first. I made the suggestion that I return to my room and allow the three of them to talk for a while but a quick discussion showed none felt it necessary. Hailey had already dealt with my "dishonesty"; Rosalee was satisfied that I loved her and had only lied as part of my cover while Anna had already dealt with my secrets and believed my interest in the Pringles had meant I couldn't avoid sex with Kyra - essentially true - and that, like Kyra herself, it was now a dead issue. "We need to talk though," she warned, "about Stephanies." I nodded. "And Stephens." "Tomorrow though. You won't be going that soon will you?" "I'll have a couple of days, I think." Would I? Would it be worst to wait around or would I be deserting them as they needed to adjust to their new lives?" "You two get back to bed. If there is a police raid we'll stall them so ignore anything you hear." "Thanks Anna." Hailey crawled across the bed - and three pairs of legs - to kiss Anna and Rosalee goodnight. Knowing Anna could and would prove creative as required was comforting. I stood and gave them my goodnight kisses as well before heading for the curtain. "Leave it," said Anna. I looked at her and she grinned. "We're wide awake and not likely to get back to sleep immediately - you've given us plenty to discuss." "Well keep your discussions quiet!" "You sleep well too." "I will." I intended exactly that. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Assassin Part: Chapter 9 of 27 Summary: Ass, sass and sin. A young assassin does more than befriend people when he tries to get close to his targets. Keywords: Mf, first, oral Language: English Copyright: 2009 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* I had been given the job of getting close to one Adam Pringle - because he was a slippery bastard who was too nasty to live. He was also a hard man to get access to but fortunately his twin children Mark and Kyra were far more approachable. Mark was gay - in a town where NO-ONE who was gay admitted it. You certainly didn't want your crime boss father to express his "disappointment" a second time. And Kyra wasn't the sort to let her twin suffer any more and gave up her own love life while it might jeopardise his secret. Then I came along, revealing my own attraction - to both of them. It was an opportunity they took advantage of, just as I took advantage of them. ********************************************************* After Mark and Kyra dropped me home I crashed in the bathroom before dinner, hoping to ease my ass; it had been a while since I'd last been buggered Mark had been a careful lover though, and being the sandwich between him and Kyra was well worth this mild discomfort. Of course, now I was home I had to contend with Anna! --- I came alert as the locked bathroom doorknob clicked and began to turn. The shampoo bottle was my best weapon together with the bar of soap. "It's only me." I relaxed. In the unlikely event someone was coming for me I would have used the shampoo to knock their gun aside while the soap painfully struck them in the eye and hopefully partially blinded them while I got out of the bath and tried to do unto others. The likely success rate wouldn't have been high but it would be better than if I did nothing. As it was I only had to worry about a horny teenage girl coming to visit me in direct contravention to her parents' instructions. "And what are you doing here Sweetheart?" "Mum asked Dad to take her down to the supermarket. They'll be gone for at least 20 minutes, probably more." "So you decided to visit. How did you unlock the door?" Anna displayed the nail-like "emergency" key - I had a longer than normal screwdriver in my toolkit that could do the same job but I played dumb. "I just hadn't seen you and thought you might like me to help you." "Help me...?" "Oh, wash or well, anything." "Twenty minutes is not enough to do 'anything' properly." "Yeah but it's light in here - I don't get to see you properly when you come to my room." "So you want to look? Okay." "I *WANT* to do lots of things! With you!" "Hmm! Sounds interesting. What sort of things?" "Why haven't you tried to make love to me?" Anna's voice sounded suddenly strained. "Well people usually get to know each other for a bit longer than twelve days before they take that step. I thought we were going nicely; getting used to each other and having fun?" Anna became quite emotional. "How about after one day!?" she shouted. "Yeah! I know you fucked Rosalee. How could you!? You were only going to use them to cover the fact that we were fooling around! Aren't my tits as big as Rosalee's? Is that it?" I carefully got out of the bath and wrapped a towel around myself. It wasn't a matter of modesty, I simply wished to avoid making Anna inexplicably wet (or rather wet with an unacceptable explanation.) I grabbed Brent's towel and dried my arms and chest. It wouldn't be damp enough for him to blame me. "Okay! Strictly speaking Rosalee *COULD* have been fucked but I think you'll find the situation is not as it seems. Was she the one who told you?" "Yes, but not at first. No, leave me alone. I don't want you to touch me." "I think you do." I put my arm around her and pulled her against me. "But if you prefer," I offered, "I'll go and get dressed and we can talk down in the lounge." Anna didn't move; I had fortunately guessed right. Anna wanted me as she had truthfully stated before and was angry that I hadn't wanted her - or so she thought. "Tell me what she said," I asked quietly. "You'll only change your story to match." "No I won't. I've already said Rosalee might think she was fucked but impressions can be misleading. Did I have my prick near her pussy? Yes. Did I stick it in her? No." "All right then. She phoned up earlier to speak to you about next weekend. She and Hailey have apparently agreed that they have more fun together with you and wanted to suggest you go out with Rosalee on Friday night with Hailey tagging along and then with Hailey on Saturday with Rosalee horning in on the action. Sounds like you'll be a busy boy - no wonder you were too tired for *ME* last night!" I didn't rise to her taunt. Instead a simple query, "And?" "They suggested a movie after dinner Friday - their treat and then wanted to know if you had a car you could use. They had some idea you could all go swimming somewhere away from other people." I considered the likelihood of being loaned the family car (Doug had a work one so they wouldn't be without a vehicle). I'd be pushing my luck if I suggested I was taking a couple of nymphettes out into the wilds. "And how did you get from there to last night's exploits?" "Well when she let on that she and Hailey were going to see you together - she let *THAT* slip when she started talking about 'we'll pay' and 'if Roger could take us'. Anyway I started asking questions and she started spouting about how wonderful you were and after a while about how great you made her feel. Then she swore me to secrecy and told me you'd actually fucked her. So? Explain how you did but you didn't!" "Circumstances meant I was in the park with two young ladies who I have to say are every bit as eager as you yourself. We fooled around a little - which I had planned to relate to you tonight, leaving nothing out, I promise. Anyway Rosalee was rather eager to lose her cherry if that was what I wanted. I wasn't really prepared for that so I gave her a not-fuck. I just put the head of my prick against the entrance to her cunt - she could feel me there but I didn't put more inside her than the head. "Now, if you wish, later I will show you, not what fucking is like, but instead what it is like to make love. I think you will consider that it is much better than a quick fuck in the park that you will be sorry for Rosalee when you think she didn't even get that." "I want it now." "What? We haven't time." "Not making love. I want to know what Rosalee felt so I can compare. Come on, give *ME* the same sort of 'not- fuck' you gave her!" "Wait, or rather, take off your jeans and panties." I went to my room, grabbed a condom and the lube. Anna might not be aroused and we really didn't have time to get her into a state that would ease things for her. She was ready and I gave her a kiss. "This is not quite the same and I don't want to hurt you so I've got some jelly to make you slippery if we need it." "What should I do?" "Kneel down on the mat." She obeyed while I was donning the rubber. I knelt behind her and felt the state of her pussy. She really needed some foreplay! Instead I squeezed a trail of clear gel onto my finger and applied it where I needed to go. "Okay." I rubbed my knob up and down Anna's slit so it was coated as well. "This is what Rosalee would have felt." I found the entrance and barely eased myself inside. "This was it. Hailey had her hand around me so Rosalee couldn't even have pressed back on me. What do you think?" "Mmm. It's so big there. Much bigger than your fingers." "Do you want to see what she missed out on or do you want to wait for later and do things properly?" "Show me. Please." "Alright." I took hold of her bare hips and slowly pressed forward until my belly touched Anna's butt cheeks. "How's that?" "So-o-o-o much better. You feel like you're pressing against my stomach; it's so deep. Okay I accept that whatever you did with Rosalee it wasn't quite fucking if that *WAS* all it was." "Oh I don't know that I'd consider this fucking. Don't you remember your English lessons? Verbs are action words and there doesn't seem to be much activity. How about we try this?" I pulled back and pushed forward a couple of times and then paused. "Oh, please don't stop." "Sorry Sweetheart. We really *DON'T* want to be caught like this, especially if you want to do it *RIGHT* tonight." "You aren't lying? It really is better than this?" "Trust me." I pulled out of a very disappointed young lady and left her a very impatient one. --- The window was wide open and a hint of floral musk wafted out. I hoped Anna hadn't gone overboard with the perfume - it would be suspicious if we both smelled of scent in the morning. She was ready for me as well, a softer bed laid out where we normally sat on the rug on her floor and a tiny night light recovered from wherever Ma had stashed it after Anna had outgrown the need. But Anna lay there naked and eager. Any fear she might have had was taken care of by two minutes of inadequate intercourse in the bathroom. It that poor quality experience felt so good what would the "real thing" be like? More importantly, she had really forgiven me my indiscretions with Rosalee and Hailey - or so it seemed for now. It was always possible she could change her mind and I took full advantage of this period of cordiality to try and actually make love with her. She knelt and pulled down my boxers. No hesitant bride on her wedding night! Before I'd even cleared the t- shirt past my head she was kissing the knob of my penis and working the shaft with her hands. I force her to stop while I stepped out of my boxers, put them on her bed where I could grab them and knelt facing her. Anna was not disappointed to lose her toy; she wrapped her arms around me and found my lips instead. My knees almost touching Anna's, I leaned into her and she leaned back, holding onto me for support. We kissed for a few seconds - it seemed much longer - and she straightened; then it was my turn to hang from her as she forced me backwards. We made and broke eye contact - continually over and over. It was different in the near dark, and when you were both leaning back together and facing the same way. Face-to-face could be an overpowering intimacy; you wanted to look deep into the person you were with, but then you had to accept that they could in turn look just as deeply into you. That was difficult to handle unless you knew you both shared the same feelings. I guess we did which came as quite a surprise to me. We stayed together, rolling as we leaned back to lay on the nest Anna had pulled off of her bed. She looked quite different from the sixteen year old schoolgirl who sat facing me across the dining table each night or who waited to walk home with me after classes. It wasn't that she looked older - she didn't; her face still had the girlish puff to her cheeks but there was something overall that said she had crossed the point between girl and woman and the rest was simply a matter of her body catching up. It wouldn't have been the simple act of intercourse - I'm not stupid enough to believe in a sudden loss of innocence making such a change. Some horrific incident might cause innocence to vanish but then I'd expect a frightened child to look out at me. Rather I believed it was Anna's gradual acceptance that she was capable of making decisions about what she wanted to do with her body and who she wanted to do that with; that she had some how controlled, if not actually overcome, her jealousy with the realisation I didn't give others all I gave to her. I wondered if her family and friends would notice the new maturity and wonder why. I did wonder - but not until later. That night I lay with a confident, self-assured woman in a teenage body. No concerns that she might do the wrong thing; none that I might misuse her; none for the future right at that moment. All our concerns were for each other. To just be as close physically as possible. There was no hurry though and we worked slowly as we built our passion higher. My hand was gentle on her breast. It wasn't anywhere near as full as Rosalee's that was true and gravity lessened it's altitude as well. I adored it though. It was good to hold; it felt soft against my mouth. Anna responded to my tongue circling her nipple and held my head closer. I worked that nub into a hard lump and then transferred my attentions to its partner - indented by comparison. My mouth opened wide and I covered nearly all of Anna's breast tissue. Inhaling, the mound was drawn inside. I closed my teeth, so very gently, and seized her before shaking my head like a wolf worrying at a carcass. I relaxed; the breast slid out and I closed my jaw as it passed so my teeth scraped across her skin until, just before I lost it, I trapped the ring of flesh around her nipple. I struck the nipple repeatedly with my tongue and each time it grew a little firmer. Anna pulled me up. She loved what I was doing and needed to reward me with a kiss. It gave us both a chance to rest and allowed us to involve different body parts as well. From her mouth, I moved to kiss her neck. The scent she had dabbed behind her ears was more concentrated and I inhaled deeply. Anna writhed beneath me as the tickle of my tongue beneath her jaw turned into further excitement. "Please. Now. I want you now." I had intended more but if Anna was ready now I doubted she would appreciate delay. There was a short pause though. I took a condom from my pile of clothes and quickly covered myself. Anna welcomed me back and continued kissing me as I slid both my legs between hers and took my place over her. I lifted myself as I reached between our bodies; there was certainly no need for extra lube this time! Located correctly, I gave a little push then removed my hand. So much and no more had Rosalee received. I moved my hips and slid smoothly in - so much more Anna gave to me. "Oh yes." We kissed again and Anna bent her hips to try and overcome my lack of movement. I began to thrust. Slowly, smoothly, gently. Anna responded; moving herself under me; thrusting upwards with her own growing need. I slipped my arms under her shoulders as I had with Kyra - was it really only that very afternoon? I cast all memories of Kyra from me - that had been work, though very pleasant work; this was pleasure for its own sake. I had recovered from my afternoon's delight, at least as far as my libido and stamina was concerned. I was still going to have to sit carefully however! My libido had been restored - that needed little time - but my need had been eased and I could take a little longer than I had with Kyra. I varied my speed, pumping hard and fast when Anna seemed able to take it then resuming a more gentle movement. I angled my body so my knob scoured left and right; I moved where I was kissing her nose rather than her chin and rubbed the front of her cunt's entrance as I chiselled its back surface. Anna continually broke out in smiles, continually sought my lips. She lifted her legs to trap my hips. She was struggling not to make the sort of noises that would cause an unwelcome interruption. I could see she wouldn't mind a release and began to work harder. Work that was pleasure, pleasure that was work. Not really, merely the willing expenditure of a little more effort and then the need grew in me and suddenly everything seemed effortless as my body took over and I began almost violently fucking Anna's sweet body. Her legs gripped me and I lifted her hips with mine. Friction was lessened and I thumped her down with more force as I tried to go deeper. The bump sounded loud in our ears and we both started but we had reached a point where, even had the thumping been on the door, we would have had to finish what we were doing. I came, spasming, filling the rubber, yet I continued with only a brief pause. Anna must have found my release stimulating because she came shortly after and it was my turn to hold Anna while her body shook with orgasm. We cuddled closer than ever as we came down, only interrupted by my need to keep hold of the condom as I shrank inside her. I rolled off and sat up. My handy bum-bag contained a scrap of towel as well as some baby wipes and I cleaned and dried myself before laying back down. I didn't ask Anna whether it had been good - I knew it had been much better than that; she was quietly weeping and grabbed me for a soggy but heartfelt kiss. "What's up?" I managed when we came up for air. "That was so good and I was such a bitch before; I believed what Rosalee said." "Well Rosalee does think she's been fucked and technically she might not be a virgin under a sexual as well as a physical definition anymore." "But she hasn't felt like this?" "She's come but not when I was in her and I don't think quite like that. I've explained what happened on Friday night; last night wasn't much different except Hailey was with us and got to come too - and I got them to taste each other." "What! Eating each other?" "No. Just tasting their juices on our fingers." "Why didn't you fuck Hailey?" "Would you have minded?" "Not if it was only like in the bathroom." "Well she wasn't ready, which was quite okay by me - I'd much rather have kept it for you." "What else happened?" I explained my unsuccessful attempt to keep their knickers when we went back inside and my story we'd been in the diner working out our issues and then how they had surprised me by removing their knickers in the ladies just before we left to go home. I stunned her by telling her of the driver's suggestion they might not want their mothers catching a whiff of bare pussy. "Can you really smell me or was it just them?" "I've been here for a while so I'm used to it but if your parents were to come in they'd probably notice and, if they didn't suspect that I'd been here, they would probably assume you'd been 'remembering' - for hours I'd imagine." "I'd need to rub myself for hours to feel that good." "You'd only end up sore." "Hmm. I think I would have liked to have seen you in the park; to have watched the others faces as you made them come." "Even watching Rosalee getting fucked? You wouldn't be jealous?" "I was. I hated her - and you a bit. I think it was because you did it with her before you did it with me. I know I wasn't jealous of her after you'd visited Friday. She got a bit of fun but you came back to *ME* and told me about it and made sure I felt as good. Am I weird that I liked imagining you with her? That I thought about how I was watching you both as you described what had happened?" "Just as weird as me then. I looked in on you a couple of times before you caught me." "You did? What was I doing?" "It was very boring. Reading once and sleeping the next time, I think." I could see Anna's relief that it hadn't been something embarrassing. "You know," I started, "if you really are interested in watching I have a suggestion." "Hmm?" Anna perked up - it seemed her interest was genuine. "Once we work out where we are going Saturday, why don't you come along too? If Rosalee can crash I figure you could." "But what about us?" "They don't have to know anything has happened - you could be curious but afraid, or curious and convinced by them, or just a secret nymphomaniac waiting to jump me." "But where would we go?" "I'm at a loss. They suggested swimming but the only place I know is up at the lake where your Dad took us last Sunday and that seems a bit crowded." "Hmm. There is a pool on one of the streams that feed into the lake. It's an unofficial spot for nude swimming because it's a bit of a hike so kids don't just wander by. People can see any police heading there because they have to go along the back of the ridge before they climb down inside the gully. Everyone would be respectfully dressed before they could be challenged." "Do many people go there?" "Enough so you don't have to worry about pervs. A scream and there are plenty of people ready to inflict a little immediate justice. It might be their own girlfriends or daughters next." "Daughters?" "Yeah. Families go up there as well." "I don't know. It might be too public." "Well there are other pools a little higher up that aren't much good for more than sitting in. The granite boulders dam up smaller pools and most people aren't interested in going up there." "How do you know all this?" "Brent wanted to have a look and I was tagging along so he told me not to tell Ma and Dad and I got to see from up above with him. One of the girls at school used to go with her parents until she started growing tits and got freaked that people might be looking at her." "Maybe they were." "Nah. Her tits weren't any thing special. Not like Rosalee's." "Rosalee's are okay but I wouldn't say they were special. I think yours are nicer. If you were like Rosalee you would seem top heavy. These," a loving caress, "are just perfect." "I thought guys liked big tits." "Secret Number 1. Guys *NOTICE* big tits. It's unavoidable. Secret Number 2. Guys notice *TITS* period! Secret Number 3. Guys notice you even if your back is turned and they can't see your tits. Secret Number 4. Guys even notice other guys if they can't see their fronts and suspect they might be girls. "We're built to home in on anything female or even just possibly female but what we do afterwards is a different matter." Anna giggled. "What?" "I don't think those are secrets." "Okay. I didn't say they were good ones. Anyway, I hadn't finished. Some guys fantasize over big tits, the bigger the better; others like cupcakes, little beestings that make the girls look younger; and then there are all the rest who like something in between or who are willing to accept anything from one end of the range to the other." "And you?" "I've told you. I think you're perfect and I don't mean just your tit size." "If I'm so perfect then why Rosalee and Hailey?" I wished I could say "Because I'm too smart for my own good" though I doubt smart was quite right. I had been trained to do a specific thing very well. I had been given quite a bit of information to allow me to perform that job and I had been given certain opportunities - such as learning how to do what a girl (or a guy) liked. Unfortunately there were large areas where I was still inexperienced where I could make general plans that were accepted by my superiors and then find myself learning from my mistakes as the details came unravelled during implementation. I shouldn't have been surprised by Anna and, having been surprised I should have probably avoided "getting involved". Then, I might have done better than deciding to get a decoy girlfriend and definitely better than choosing a couple of horny teens. So *WHY* Rosalee and Hailey then? "Well you know why I *ASKED* them out. It seemed sensible last week; now it has just complicated things. I like them both and don't want to hurt them. I guess when I was with them I wanted them to feel as good as I could make them. I didn't really plan anything beforehand and I wasn't after sex when I asked them out. If Rosalee hadn't come along last night, Hailey and I probably would have stayed at the club and not done anything more than cuddle and kiss." "So it's Rosalee's fault?" "I guess it is - no, I'm joking. It's the responsibility of everyone who was involved but that doesn't necessarily mean fault. If you *HAVE* to blame someone then it is obviously my fault. All I can say is that you mean more to me now than I thought possible a week ago but I can't just dump Rosalee and Hailey without any reason - and we still have the same problem with your parents if we tell the girls that you are the reason." "You'd do that if you could?" "If I could we'd be curled up in my bed right now and every night and none of the rest would matter." "I like that thought." Anna paused. "I don't want you to break up with them though, at least not unless you think it's the right time or thing to do." "Oh? Why?" "Because the idea of watching you makes me hot and I don't see how you could get anyone else to do what you've made Rosalee and Hailey do." "You're hot now?" "And wet again." "Then perhaps you should sit on my lap while we work out how you could get to watch me." "Sit on your lap?" I sat and crossed my legs. "Sit facing me with your legs wrapped behind my back." I reached for a fresh condom - Anna wasn't the only one who found the conversation heating. I leaned back with my arms out behind me while Anna positioned herself on me. She had no trouble aligning our parts and slid down smoothly with her clit area bumping against my pubic hair. Her weight forced her onto me but can't have caused her any discomfort since she looked straight at me with the biggest cats-got-the- cream grin. I sat up straight and we wrapped our arms around each other and began to nibble each other's lips then necks and earlobes. "I love the feel of you inside me. I wish you could stay there forever." "Might make school difficult and meal times would be interesting to say the least." "I don't think I'd bother eating and I certainly wouldn't go to school." "You'd starve to death." "Mmm, but what a way to go." "Actually I don't think I could stay hard long enough for you to die, so you're probably safe." "Damn, I don't want to be safe - I want you hard forever." "Well how about if I just keep getting hard again?" "Forever?" "I'm not actually sure how many times I can manage it." "Well I guess you'll have to make sure you only get hard when you can stick it in me. I don't want you wasting any hard ons." "So no more 'remembering'?" "If you need to remember you haven't been visiting me often enough." I didn't tell her I hadn't really needed to remember - or masturbate - since soon after I had arrived. Initially it was a matter of fitting in and since then getting insufficient sex was *NOT* an issue. "So do you plan sitting near me, remembering yourself, while I entertain Rosalee or Hailey?" "Maybe I could help her entertain you. Did they take turns or work on you together?" "There was quite a lot of togetherness." "Tell me!" Anna wriggled in my lap. I reached between us and cupped her breast. "Well, we kissed." "So?" "All three of us at once. We had our mouths all pressed together and had our tongues waggling." "So they kissed too?" "Surprised?" "Not after you told me you got them to taste each other. I can't believe they're lezzies." "Oh I don't think they are. They were very much into me and I think the desire to meet my wishes was stronger than any worry about another girl." "Why do you think they were into you? How come you're the number one guy?" I squeezed gently and rubbed thumb and finger around a slowly hardening nipple. "Why am I here if you don't think I'm worth having?" "Oh, I've learned you're special - what made them think so *BEFORE* you got them doing each other in the park?" "I guess I treated them like they wanted to be treated. They felt good around me before I even attempted to make them *FEEL* good." "I can understand that," she conceded. "I guess I'd go along with anything you said would make me feel great." "How about if I only said it would make you feel good?" "Good from you is better than what I've managed on my own in the past. Just sitting on you like this is so fantastic." "How would you feel if the others were watching us?" Anna's shiver rubbed us together. "Let's see. You were impressed with Rosalee so perhaps she could sit behind you and cushion you against her breasts while she held yours and Hailey could wrap her arms around me and play with my nipples." "*YOUR* nipples?" "They feel as good as yours I would guess." "You never said!" Anna reached between us and copied me while we each leaned back against the other person's securing left arm. "Is that okay?" "Very." "Then keep going. What else are we going to do?" "You wouldn't mind making love with me while they watched us, while they joined in?" "Right at the moment with your stories I would do it up on stage in front of the whole school but in the morning..." "Well you'll have to think things through and tell me what you would like." "Tell me more stories so I can decide." "Change so you're kneeling on me then." Anna did. "Oh, we don't rub together so nicely now." I lay back. "Try now." Anna moved around, leaned a little forward and smiled. "How about if instead of Hailey sitting behind me I was lying like this and she was sitting on my face?" "Does she taste better than me?" I answered her question with a question, avoiding it entirely. "Would you prefer to sit over my face yourself and let her sit where you are? You could watch her having her first fuck." "I was going to say I want to stay here but that might be fun to watch." "What? So long as your tally is higher?" "Of course." "And how about if my tongue got tired? Would you take turns to suck on me instead?" "I think that's how we'd start fooling around." "Mmm. Maybe you should tell the stories." "Do you think Dad would let you take us in the car if I asked him?" "Well it's that or find somewhere else or some other way. Any bus routes out that way or to some other interesting spot?" "I'll have to check." As we'd spoken we had been caressing each other's chests and Anna had been moving her hips slowly. That had kept us both "happy" without being too exciting. Unfortunately my imagination played havoc with my poise. I had to seriously resist getting too worked up just from my fantasies. But I couldn't let them alone. "I could line you up in a semicircle and just move from one breast to the next; or perhaps you girls would enjoy having a nibble. We could take turns. How do you like the idea of one of Rosalee's tits in your hand, making her nipple hard as you sucked or licked on it? Or would you rather Hailey - she's closer in size to you?" "I'd rather you did it to me but I'd watch them together." "Well if you were sucking on me you wouldn't complain if one of them was to rub your pussy would you?" "I'd still rather you did it but I guess not." "Wouldn't it only be fair to return the favour when it was their turn?" Anna was certainly letting her imagination control her. She ground herself against me while I waited for an answer. She didn't seem willing to say she would but wasn't about to lie and say she would never do anything like that. "Close your eyes and imagine what it would be like," I instructed. "Let's say Hailey is on her knees, bent forwards with my prick in her mouth. Mmm, it feels really, really good. I think you've been giving her tips. In fact she's doing such a good job you think she deserves a reward. You can see her pussy through her thighs. Her lips are thick, swollen with her lust and covered by the softest coating of hair." "You sound way too familiar with them. Go on!" "You are close and you can reach out and touch her. Her lips part and your fingers are wet. She must be rather excited. You put your thumb at the entrance to her cunt and it just slips in without any resistance. Oh, I can tell she likes it because she's sucking even harder. "You try moving your thumb. Now Hailey's hips are swaying so your thumb gives all sides of her a good rubbing as you move it in and out. You take your thumb out and rub the back of it along the middle of her pussy; your knuckle rubs gently across her clit. Now the whole of your thumb slides back and forth, over and around her clit. Can you feel her reacting?" Anna murmured "Yes". She was going crazy on my dick and I didn't think I could last. I directed her rather than explained what was happening. "Reach around with your other hand and cup her breast as it dangles down. That's right. Rosalee has got her other one." Anna took hold of her own right breast with her left hand. I still played with the other and moved *MY* left hand to her waist. "Now tweak her nipple. Does she like it pinched? Fuck her with your thumb while you stretch her nipple out or bounce her tit on the palm of your hand. Yes, you're making her excited. I can feel her coming and I'm about to explode in her mouth." Well somewhere at least! Anna could feel me coming - hell I was lifting her up off our makeshift mattress! She had gotten as worked up as well and came near enough with me that we both were ready to collapse together. "Oh Roger, I think that was even better than the first time." "It did feel pretty special." "You know what you've done now though?" "What?" "You have to prove that you can make me come like that - with one hand on my breast and your thumb fucking me!" "Well I didn't say how Hailey got as wet as you found her did I so I should be allowed to get you worked up first." "The only trouble is I can't suck on you while you're fucking me with your thumb." You can always practise with your toy." "Oh! I didn't think of that. I wonder if Rosalee or Hailey have one." "I can't say." "Well I don't think I want to try tonight. You've worn me out." "I hope I haven't made you sore." That would look rather strange - two cowpokes with bandy legs coming down to breakfast, Anna because her pussy was tender and I because my asshole had been similarly treated. "No I think I will be okay. You're just bigger than anything else I've had in there before and I can notice it." "You'll get used to it." Well it would be nice to have the chance. "Oh I hope not! Well I hope I get very familiar with the feeling but I hope I never get used to feeling you filling me up." "An excellent attitude. I certainly would not want to lose the wonder of your body gripping mine while you have me surrounded so snugly." Anna lifted herself up and off of me while I once again held the base of the condom. "Wait a minute." Anna bent closer and examined how my semen filled the bulbous reservoir and spread around the head and some distance up the shaft. "I've never seen one like that before. Is it different wearing one when you..." Anna didn't finish her question, not from embarrassment about saying "have sex" or even "fuck" but rather because any experience I had without condoms had to have been with another woman. She forgot about blow jobs. "When you put your mouth on me it's all silky smooth but it gets very intense very quickly. I guess being inside you is a little snugger and the condom cuts down on how much I feel but that means it takes me longer before I can't stop myself coming. So there are advantages and disadvantages - the main advantage being you don't get pregnant!" "I have to agree there. Mum had a talk with me a while back to say if I ever thought I might need it she would take me to the doctor to get the pill. At that stage I was a bit embarrassed because I had zero love life. I guess I should see if the offer still stands. The only problem is coming up with a convincing story since I'm not seeing anyone and I don't think she'd be happy with the truth." "You could always say you've seen some of the girls at school with their boyfriends and you might like to date some of the older guys. Then you would be unsure if they might want to do more than you're ready for or else you might decide you are ready. You want to know that if something happens, you're protected." "I think I can make something useable out of that. If I went on the pill you'd be able to feel me squeezing you properly." "With or without you feel perfectly wonderful." "I'm beginning to feel perfectly sleepy. Would you lie down with me here for a while?" Against my better judgement I did and of course we both slid straight into the slumber of the satiated. It wasn't all that risky really and I woke up a couple of hours later as the night cooled down. Awake, I still wasn't crazy about the idea of traipsing back across the roof to my own room. It was much nicer to look at a happy Anna asleep beside me. A happy *NAKED* Anna at that! I caressed her shoulder and, when she showed no sign of stirring, then her breast. Anna simply snuggled back into me so I could continue. I reluctantly lifted her up instead and put her back into her bed. I had to lift her head to slip the pillow back under and then spread the covers over her. She stirred then and watched me dress. "Let me kiss you goodbye." I leaned and pressed my lips to hers. "Nice but not what I had in mind." Anna pulled down my recently restored boxers and took hold of my limp member. She gave the knob a big kiss then stretched my foreskin back and placed the bare head inside her lips where her tongue waggled against the end. "There you are. Now you'd better go or you won't get up for school. I wish I could do that to you at lunch." There was no way I was going to let *THAT* happen! The consequences of us being discovered could only serve to make my job near impossible under all but the most optimistic outlook. I gave Anna a proper kiss but she was already heading back to sleep so I checked I had everything - new and used - and turned off her night light before letting my eyes get used to the dark. I couldn't wait until my night vision was totally restored but it was light enough out that it wouldn't be that much different. Still I was cautious; a neighbour out late for some reason might spot the movement on the roof and talk to Doug. All was still and quiet as I climbed out onto the roof. Lifting the screen to meet the window frame, I gave a gentle push so they were united again and closed the window. Two minutes later, my own room being secure, I was in bed and trying to revisit the dreams I had left unfinished in Anna's room. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Doppelganger Part: Chapter 6 of 31 Summary: Justin was born with a little extra - a set of female sex organs - but that was just the beginning. Keywords: mf, mfff, oral, rom, inc Language: English Copyright: 2005 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* INTRODUCTION Justin Rogers was born not quite 16 years ago with something special - a complete functional set of female sex organs. Just recently he had found they don't really belong to him but to his twin sister Tina who spent much of her early life sharing his body. From time to time she was able to visit as a distinct person but some survival instinct made her merge with him again before she was discovered. Now they have met properly and, sharing memories and experiences whenever they are merged (or "together" as opposed to being "with each other" as separate people), they have a similar outlook to many matters including their sexual awakening. ********************************************************* WEEK 4 ====== MONDAY ====== It was a long week for both Justin and Tina. Monday saw Tina's "arrival" and formal introduction to her father. It was also when Justin found himself with two unexpected friends at school. --- After Mal and Justin left in the morning Tina joined her mother in the kitchen. Disappearing while Justin got ready, Tina had emerged before Justin had eaten so she could accept Bernie's hospitality - it seemed to worry her not seeing Tina eating a healthy meal. "Could I have some toast and juice please Mum?" Tina went to work on her mother's maternal instincts. "Certainly dear. Help yourself from the refrigerator and I'll put the toast on." They talked over their strategy for the day. The bus was expected at around 2 p.m. and they figured they better go down there just in case Malcolm took some time off. Likewise Tina better appear with some luggage, and she couldn't use one of their suitcases, so after breakfast they went shopping. They found an old used case, not too battered, in a charity shop located a couple of blocks from the Mall; the outrageous rentals charged inside that air- conditioned monolithic building were outside the store's range. Bernie thought it would be useful to buy some clothes from the same store to fill it. Mal might then provide the funds to kit her out properly - he wasn't miserly in a good cause. They grabbed some lunch and waited for 2 o'clock to roll around. ----- Justin's lunchtime was intriguing; for him and his amused friends. Katie and Tyler had sat down with him before any of his own friends could arrive. With one on either side he was subjected to some quizzical glances by those who had been wishing one or other of the girls (or any girl for that matter) would show some interest in them. You could almost hear them thinking "What's he got that I haven't?" Similarly there were a number of girls intrigued as to what was suddenly so special about him, though they didn't consider the other boys as an adequate source of comparison. He was okay to look at, though definitely not as muscular or rugged-looking as some of the jocks; he spoke well and he didn't play the fool quite as much as some of the others but he also hadn't shown any real interest in any of the girls before. Justin's mates were simply glad to have some female companionship around so they could try to impress them with their wit and charm - neither worked. Both girls did make an effort to include the other boys in their conversations about a range of normal things so as not to focus too much on Justin but when everyone had eaten they made it clear they wanted some time alone with him and suggested a walk around the oval. Sheepishly accepting his friends encouraging and none too subtle gestures behind the girls' backs, he walked between them out into the school grounds. There was a tension between them; no-one entered another's personal space and there was limited conversation while they were close to any others - and most definitely no physical contact. They sought and found a suitable shady spot where their privacy was protected. "Have you spoken to your cousin?" "Yes" "Did she say anything about Friday?" "Only that she likes you both and had a good time." Justin told the simple truth. His knowledge of their behaviour together had come from Tina's memories when she merged so he could carry her clothing through the house after escorting her home. "So you don't know what happened?" "I can imagine but it isn't really my business. I haven't spoken to anyone but Tina about the first 'incident' and consider the any similar matters to be personal. I'm not saying I'm not interested ...", he grinned at them, "... but I'm not a gossip." He didn't add that gossip could probably hurt him far more than them if the REAL story came out. For now only his doctor and his mother knew the details and he trusted both those women implicitly. "She mentioned that she learned some things with you and that you have some skills. "Oh? What sort of skills?" He knew very well but couldn't say that; besides it didn't hurt to have the two girls beside him open up a little. "Er, just that you were considerate of other people's feelings and liked to see them happy." That certainly could describe his delight at hearing Tina suppress a scream as her body shook with orgasm after orgasm. "That's true though I wouldn't call that a skill." "The skill probably has more to do with how you make them happy." "Yes, and we were wondering if you might like to bring Tina over to Katie's house again next Friday evening ... and stay this time." Tyler turned a little red as she spoke for the first time since sitting on the grass. "I would like that; very much. Thank you." They agreed on seven o'clock again and after a couple of innocuous questions about Tina and a lull in the conversation they spoke on safer school matters until it was time to go back in. Katie turned to him, "You will continue to be discrete?" "How about you wanted some help with a subject and didn't want everyone to hear?" "It better be Chemistry. I could actually use some help with that", Tyler joked. "Well then, I'll bring my notes on Friday." "I didn't mean that." "Well I do like to see people happy after all, and Katie's parents would probably prefer to see you studying with a boy in the house wouldn't they?" Katie could only agree. Justin knew Friday would not arrive quickly enough. ----- The subterfuge wasn't necessary - Mal was busy at work - but it still helped to have some props for display. Bernie "showed" Tina to her new room, something she didn't really want but Tina knew her real wishes wouldn't go down well. At least it was next to Justin's room at the other end of the house to their parents' bedroom and they didn't have to share the bathroom with them. The one thing she really paid attention to as she left her bag in the room was the double bed. Justin had little reason to go into what was normally their guest room and neither had thought about the fittings. Tina had an idea though she had to use Mal rather then Bernie to make it work. She let it simmer in the back of her mind until she was ready. ----- Justin received and returned his now familiar warm welcome when he got home and was about to be "coached" by his mother when Tina interrupted her. "There is a faster way". She disappeared while Justin grinned then popped back, naked again, before her mother's eyes. "They did! Wonderful!" Tina hugged her brother ("No, get used to thinking 'Cousin'", Bernie thought.) while her mother looked on in disbelief. "You two may be used to each other's bodies but others aren't necessarily that fortunate." "Sorry Mum. I have to change into my new old clothes anyway." "What is so wonderful?" Bernie asked as Tina donned her underwear and then reached for the pre-owned outer garments. "Justin got invited to a girl's house next weekend." "It's not that big a deal, they could use some help with Chemistry. Hey I can take Tina to meet them." "Still. They're a couple of hot babes." Tina was pretending to tease him in front of their mother. "They are alright, I suppose." "It is probably a good idea if she DOES go with you then if they are such 'babes'. And stop teasing him Tina." Sneaky! An excuse AND a chaperone! She left them to go through their homework while she prepared their meal; Mal would be home soon. ----- "Mal, this is Tina. Tina, my husband Mal." "Hello Tina." "Hello Uncle Mal." "Mal is okay." "Hello Mal." She tried to appear nervous meeting a stranger she had actually known all her life. She was glad she had "met" Bernie and Justin before he got home so she could reasonably appear more at ease with them. It wasn't easy to avoid doing or saying something she wasn't supposed to know about yet. "How was your trip?" They had seen the bus come in on time and with the normal mixture of cheerful and morose passengers. Tina had also eavesdropped on the conversations so she was able to truthfully reply "long but uneventful". There was no way they wanted her story shot to pieces by some report of a major pile up on the interstate appearing on the evening news. "Well I hope you enjoy your stay with us. Let me know if you want anything." "Thank you." They sat down to dinner and both Mal and Bernie grinned to see her eat a substantial meal. In fact it was only slightly marred by Justin's complaint of a stomach ache which stopped him from doing more than pick at his food. "I'll have it later if I'm feeling better." With Tina present so much of the time it would be necessary for them to eat for two but they still ran the risk of an actual stomach ache if she was forced to merge before a double meal had time to be at least partially digested. Justin wondered how they could stagger their meal times. Over dinner Mal couldn't get over the resemblance between the two teenagers. He had always thought Justin had inherited more of his own family's looks (though he had a delicacy to his features that Mal would rather were absent); it was obvious now that he had been wrong. "Hell", he thought, "the kids are only second cousins and still they could pass for brother and sister." He knew that he had never fooled around since he had met Bernice, and that any youthful indiscretions would have resulted in a much older son or daughter than Tina if he did have another unknown child around. It certainly wasn't a case of HIS sins coming back to haunt him; and he certainly would have known if his wife had been pregnant! It just showed how the random combination of genes could sometimes produce some interesting results. Justin offered to help his mother clear up but Tina was instructed to relax. "You come and sit down. You've had a long day so just rest for now." Tina allowed herself to be herded into the lounge by her father. Justin and her mother had had an equally (not so) long day but it suited her own plans. "Uncle Mal, er, Mal. There is one thing I wondered about. My room is lovely and I do appreciate you taking me in but the bed, well, it's a double bed and I don't really want to sleep in such a big bed. If Justin doesn't mind do you think we could swap?" "I don't see why not. Let's ask him." Mal was wondering, "Did someone try to molest her in a double bed? Was her father attacking her?" He hated the idea this lovely young girl may have been abused. "Justin!" "Yes Dad?" "Do you mind swapping your bed with Tina's?" "Huh?" Tina hadn't prepped him for this. "Er No. No, that's okay. It should fit." "Give us a hand when you're finished then. I'll just get a spanner." He returned with the tool and had dismantled the frame of Tina's as yet unused bed before his son joined him. It was a reasonably simple job though Bernie, standing out the way with Tina as the "men" did their "men jobs", was curious why it was necessary. "Justin and I spent a lot of time together, sharing one body I mean, but sometimes I would emerge when we were sleeping. I think I still need to spend SOME time with him but if I emerge in the night his old bed is going to be uncomfortable. This way if it happens we have room to sleep." She didn't mention that she probably wouldn't be merged quite as much as in the past but at least it gave her an excuse (in Bernie's case) if she was discovered in Justin's bed or if her own bed hadn't been slept in. If Mal found them she would just have to disappear. She hoped that Justin's dick wouldn't be buried inside her at the time - they still hadn't worked out what to expect then. She had another idea. "Mum. It would be VERY hard to explain to Dad what I was doing in Justin's bed if he found me there. Do you think you could maybe drop a hint that it would probably be a good idea if I didn't see him around my room while I was sleeping. You wouldn't actually have to say it had something to do with why I am here." Bernie could see the merits of Tina's request; she wouldn't actually have to lie to Mal - it WOULD be a good idea if he wasn't there to accidentally see them together. ----- For the first time Tina took a shower all by herself; there was no way Justin would have been able to avoid his father's concerned scrutiny, especially after the little talk he got about being sensitive to his cousin's privacy. Mal found he liked the girl; she was not at all moody or withdrawn as he had suspected might be the case. She certainly seemed self-confident; no sign of uncertainty amongst strangers or in a strange house. It made him wonder what HAD been the reason she had needed to leave her home. Bernie had hinted but hadn't really been forthcoming and he couldn't see any obvious sign at the girl's waistline that she was expecting. "Still", he thought, "I'll keep an eye on her for a few days to see if she has any problems." He didn't realise that THIS would be her only real problem. Bernie did tuck Tina in though Tina would have preferred being in the wide bed she had connived to have put in Justin's room. But it didn't really matter. Before their mother had closed the door and walked past Justin's door Tina had left her nightie spread out under the collapsing bed clothes and had merged and reappeared naked beside Justin; she now had the delay down to a fraction of a second. As she slid into position beside him they listened to Bernie call goodnight to Justin as she passed by. "Goodnight Mum." Barely were the words out of his mouth than Tina's tongue had taken their place. "Mmm", she hummed around it and his. Justin inhaled through his mouth, drawing her breath and then exhaled back into her mouth. Tina resisted at first then, realising what he was doing, breathed her own breath back in from his body. They broke apart quietly giggling and Justin brushed his lips over hers. "Congratulations on getting us a bigger playground. Would you like to climb up on the gym?" He indicated his chest. "Jim, Tom, Harry. I'd even climb on a Dick. But I suppose a Justin will have to do." Justin slid down the bed and moved his pillow out the way. Tina knelt over his head and he gripped her hips to lower her in range of his tongue. She grabbed the headboard while straining to hold her weight off of her brother's face. It became harder as she was there longer and as her body began to respond to the probing of her cunt and the lapping of her pussy. Her body was taking control from her mind; Justin found the wet furry vulva that had been suspended just above his face was now being forcefully plastered against him. His nostrils were surrounded by a soft fur-covered mound and his chin blocked any air coming past her ass cheeks. He persisted for a while and then had to tap his surrender against her side. Even then it was a couple of long, airless seconds before Tina could recover enough to register the thrashing of his head as he tried to indicate his need for oxygen. "Sorry love. That just felt so nice." Justin, drawing deep breaths, could appreciate the reason but was unable to comment. Appreciative, Tina shuffled down his body, pinching his biceps under her knee as she moved to sit across his ankles. It wasn't particularly comfortable for either of them until she leaned forward; she was like a bobbing bird toy, her head dipping down and her ass soaring skywards as she slid her lips over the firm erection that was barely visible in the darkened room. Justin extended his arms and cupped the pointy tits as they descended within reach. They retained their shape regardless of Tina's position and Justin made no attempt to grab hold; instead he slid his fingers over the surface of each young breast and nipple, moving his hands towards his head on the down stroke and back again on the upstroke before temporarily losing contact. Tina didn't work on his cock for long. She enjoyed the sweet offering of his pre-cum but wanted the hard cock elsewhere. Once again her light weight crushed his ankles before she shuffled up his body to sit astride the saliva-dampened penis. Justin could just feel the fur on Tina's mound against his cock head before Tina pushed it over the surface of her clit, through the delightful terrain of her pussy and into the tight confines of her cunt. He felt it rise inside her, kept snug and warm in her intimate embrace. Tina paused as she felt herself filled with his meaty rod. She knew that there would be little time before it exploded regardless of whether she moved or not but the stillness gave her a few seconds more to appreciate how it stretched her internal muscles. She began to rock, not pumping up and down but edging herself forward and back so the surface of her clitoris brushed across Justin's prone body. She felt him raise his hips as he tried to push deeper and "remembered" how good it was to feel a hot pussy on his prick. That memory was soon replaced by the current situation of feeling his prick moving in her hot pussy. They both picked up speed and Tina leaned down closer to his ear. "I'm going to ride you like this next Friday with either Tyler or Katie squatting over your face." Whether she could make it happen or not, the image was too much for Justin and Tina felt the first hot splash inside her as his cock twitched and cum spurted from the tip. She rode him harder, really grinding her clit against him as she too was launched to soaring emotional heights while Justin was just starting to drift back earthwards. He held his body up from the bed, arching to give his lover a clear contact exactly where she needed it and was gratified to see the second tremor pass over her while she was still recovering from the first. She slumped forwards, exhausted and exhilarated. ----- "I began wondering about what you said the other day, about how sometimes it is Tina who is clothed and Justin who appears naked. I came up with an idea what might be happening. What if it isn't Tina emerging from Justin but rather Justin splitting into Tina and, say, 'Jus'. Except sometimes you split into 'Jus' and Tina." "So why would I feel like I was always the same?" "Tina, do your memories and experiences jump when you emerge or come together?" Tina had to suppress her humour at the doctor's unintentional pun. They had certainly been coming simultaneously recently, though that wasn't what THEY considered as 'together'. Why masturbate when there was someone willing to do that, or more, for you? "There is a jump in what I am looking at except when he is the naked one since I am actually moved in space. The only other thing I notice is catching up on some of Justin's experiences from a different viewpoint than I originally saw or things I missed when we were apart." "So Tina senses the continuity of her existence as well. Perhaps it is only because you were conditioned from birth to BE the combined person that Tina was relegated to a secondary role." "Sorry sis." "I always knew you were a bully. Typical male attitude - keep the women quiet and out of sight." She poked her tongue out at him. "So I should be able to emerge from 'Justin' as well. Maybe we should call him "Justina'?" "If you're going to call us 'Justina' when we're together then you should also refer to us as a 'shim'; there's just as much girl as boy there!" "Don't confuse the issue. Well doctor?" "If I'm correct it may be possible theoretically but it might not be something you are consciously able to control - unless Tina can tell you how she does it?" "I can't really explain how to myself. It's just something I can make happen." "And how long does it take you to emerge now?" Tina disappeared and reappeared, though now standing naked behind her brother, before Dr Sue could finish her sudden intake of breath. She reached for her clothes and started dressing again. "About that long." "I'd need more than a stopwatch, I don't think my reaction time would be fast enough to be accurate - less than half a second anyway." "I can't think of any reason why I would need to go popping in and out unless we have to fight off a mugger or something but it does mean I can be with Justin any time I want. "Lately we haven't spent as much time awake together; we used to be together during the day and with each other at night when we wouldn't be discovered but now we're together when we sleep and with each other during the day - not even that really, Mum's been happy to have me around so Justin's been going to school by himself." "And you haven't had any problems being so far apart?" "No but we were worried what would happen if we had to merge over so great a distance. When I emerge I'm normally only an arms length from Justin and usually behind him though it does depend on what's around him." "We made some tests. The first time Tina disappeared when she wasn't next to me was when she was in the kitchen and I was in the laundry - around five metres I suppose. So we started there and then tried one metre more each time. The doctor looked back to Tina as the story telling jumped between them. "I thought it was getting harder at first but now I think that was only because I was nervous. We had no trouble at 30 metres - the length of our yard - but then we had to work out where we could try longer distances without my clothes being left around the place and working out how to tell when to merge." "Would radio transceivers help?" "A walkie talkie set? I had one when we were younger; it didn't have much more range than we could see anyway." "They're a bit more sophisticated now, hip pack and headset and longer range for not much more than the price of a toy. In the interest of our scientific research let me fund your investigations." She took some banknotes out of her purse. "I think you can get a reasonable set at the electronics store in the Mall. Stop if you feel there is ANY problem but please let me know how you make out. If Tina stays in her room and Justin walks down the block you should be able to get a rough measurement." "Looks like I'm up for a fair bit of exercise - there and back for each attempt." "At least you'll keep fit." That led to a discussion of caloric intake when they were with each other compared to when they had merged together. If Tina was spending time with her Mother she needed to eat - something Justin had been able to do for both of them when they were together - provided they didn't merge while the food was still in their stomachs. Justin had already found himself with severe stomach cramps as his stomach had been distended; it was bad enough having to rush to the toilet when he found his bowel or bladder overloaded but that at least could be more easily remedied. Sue pointed out the problem they could expect if they ate for two and then spent most of their time together - they could expect to gain weight rapidly. "How about if Justin exercises and I veg out during the day and then we spend the night together - will it even out?" Tina asked with a cheeky grin. Sue didn't mind a little levity from the "twins". It showed they were normal teenagers in most respects and that they were coping with their situation. She would be much more concerned if they showed signs of depression or stress. "I'll assume you aren't serious. What if you put on weight and he didn't except when he went to bed?" "I just wouldn't emerge until he got us fit again!" There was a mutual poking out of tongues which the doctor ignored. They had covered pretty well everything so her teenage "patients" thanked her and stood to go. "Let me know how the radios work out." ----- Over the next three nights they found they could reach well over two kilometres without any noticeable problem or delay. They had gotten braver with each success and Justin was now riding his bike a block at a time further. Tina could still only emerge within touching distance but that in itself didn't seem to be a cause for concern. They did some experiments there as well to see whether Tina would only emerge in safe surroundings. One evening Justin went to a neighbour's house while they were out and stood on the end of the diving board over their backyard pool. At a height of only a metre over the water it didn't really count as dangerous but on each emergence, and regardless of the direction Justin was facing, Tina stood on the same patch of the board. This was even the case when she pushed him off balance, merged while he teetered on the edge and then reappeared as he was committed to a dive. She waited until he had climbed out and gotten a kiss before merging again; he deserved that at least for having to walk back next door in his wet clothes. ----- When running or riding his bicycle slowly Tina would appear trotting at the same speed. If he rode faster than she could easily run she didn't emerge. They were happy about that as they dreaded what would happen if they had to split on a bus or train and Tina ended up on the outside of the vehicle. That got them wondering about inside and outside and whether walls made any difference to Tina's emergence; they already knew such barriers didn't stop her merging. That test at least could be done at home without the risk of further wet clothes. Justin and Tina went into his room leaving the door slightly ajar - their father had made that a rule since they had, somewhat to his amazement, gotten on so well since Tina had come to stay. He knew what teenage boys and girls were likely to get up to. Justin rested his back against the wall and Tina leaned against him as they kissed. He was suddenly holding her empty clothes as she merged. It was her preferred way of saying "Goodbye" or rather "See you later", one which he didn't mind in the least. He had no sooner felt her merge than she was gone again. He turned and looked around the room; he was alone. He waited about ten seconds and suddenly felt something in his mouth at the same time as he felt his organs rearranged. He spat it out; it was a coin. The feeling of change occurred again and this time Tina was behind him in the room. She took the coin out of his hand. "Two new skills. One - I can get back to my own room if we get interrupted; two - we can always become burglars if we're strapped for cash." "Forgetting our basic honesty for the moment, and ignoring the fact that you can't take any tools with you unless you want me to shove them up our pussy first, and disregarding little things like alarms, motion detectors and security cameras - I suppose you're right. I personally wonder how thick the walls around the girls' change rooms are at school." "With your luck that's the time you would appear naked rather than me." "True. Than might be better for me though; I would get to see the sights first hand." "You would be the only sight!" "I suppose so. Still you're right about being able to move around if Dad comes by." "He is protective, isn't he. I think he likes having a daughter substitute." "Wait until later and I'll show you why he's protective." "Maybe it's you he needs to protect." ----- FRIDAY ====== Justin had his parents' permission to take his "cousin" to meet a couple of girls from school. Likewise Katie's parents didn't object to their daughter having a boy over to visit since there were going to be two other girls there as well. They had a mistaken belief that there was safety in numbers when they should instead have considered "who guards those who guard". When Tina saw Katie at the door with no oldies around she planted her tongue deep between Katie's lips - no air kisses by her cheek! Katie was horrified by her action when she saw Justin grinning from behind. Tina moved inside past the statue-like Kate. "I won't greet my hostess quite so heartily", said Justin as he took Katie's hand and planted a kiss on the back before letting it go. Katie's arm stayed outstretched as she began to giggle. "I don't know which of you is madder. Come on!" Her parents remembered Tina from the previous week but her father stood to shake Justin's hand. His grip was firm and persisted as he looked Justin in the eyes while saying "Hello". There was an unspoken warning and a veiled threat; Katie was his only daughter and he was as protective as Mal had become. Tyler was downstairs and Tina squealed uncharacteristically as she lunged across to kiss her every bit as passionately as she had greeted Katie. Justin had followed her down the stairs and stood unseen by Tyler as she put her hand on Tina's breast. He could see the words forming in Tyler's mind as she opened her eyes when the kiss ended and saw him watching. "Oh shit!" The hand quickly dropped. Justin knelt beside her and whispered, "It's okay. I agree it's a nice tit to hold." Tyler was about to suggest he was mistaken and to deny everything when she realise that, after all, this was basically why Tina had encouraged them to invite Justin. She grinned, "It is isn't it?" He smiled back and looked down at her chest. "And not the only one around I imagine." She blushed at his attention; like Katie she had found it a little disturbing that Tina was so open about kissing another girl. It certainly did feel good; and she and Katie kissed in exactly the same manner, but only behind closed doors or alone here and not usually immediately on arrival. To have her do it in front of a boy as well! She knew how boys bragged and stories about watching two girls kissing would certainly earn some kudos for a fifteen year old. She hoped he was as trustworthy as Tina promised or they were sunk; at least he HAD proved to be so far or he wouldn't have been invited tonight. After her brief welcome to Tyler, Tina had stood and put her arm around Katie's waist. Ever horny like her brother she was eager for the fun to start and hadn't picked up on the cooler attitudes of the other girls. "Would anyone like a drink?" Katie resumed her role as hostess. "Yes please." "Thanks" "Ta" She sorted out their preferences and went upstairs with Tina offering to lend a hand. Tyler was alone with Justin. The conversation had started well so he thought to continue it in the same vein. "I've only ever touched Tina's breasts before. Yours look lovely and soft; I've wondered about them at school sometimes; do you mind if I feel what they are like?" The combination of compliment and question provided some risk that she would answer with a "No" but Justin hoped he was asking for such a significantly small favour that the fear of looking prudish would force Tyler to allow the intimacy. Whether that was the reason or if instead she genuinely sought his touch the answer he heard was indeed a clear "Yes". Now he found it important not to delay too long lest he appear wishy-washy. Contrarily he didn't want to be seen to simply be grabbing. He moved to sit beside her on the settee and gently turned her shoulders so her back was resting against his chest. With his arms under hers he reached up and cupped his hands around the large bra cups. He supported their mass and could just feel where her nipples were but the fabric of bra and top made any attempt at stimulation futile. Instead he used his time to make Tyler comfortable, to reinforce her approval of his access to her body and to confirm to her his admiration of her assets. Then, and not least, was his own desire to experience the difference in texture, structure, weight and form of her marvellous boobs. When the other two could be heard coming down the stairs he didn't hurriedly take his hands away as though fearing being guilty of some crime; similarly he didn't want to brazenly proclaim her wanton behaviour without her permission by leaving them in place. Instead he gave another gentle squeeze with each hand then dropped one to the arm of the chair while sliding the other down Tyler's body to rest on her waist. He brushed his lips over her hair and whispered, "You feel fantastic." Though Tina only smiled, Katie was surprised to see them sitting so close together, and so soon. "What has he been up to?" she wondered. "At least Tyler seems happy enough." The drinks were handed around and Katie and Tina sat opposite in another settee. "Well? What shall we do?" asked Tina. "Tyler wanted to study Chemistry the other day", answered her "cousin". "I don't think so Justin; not tonight at least, though I would like some help some other time." He rubbed his hand up and down Tyler's side as they talked, brushing the edge of her breast. The subtle manoeuvre was obvious to Katie who found herself a little jealous that Tyler was welcoming his attention. She rested her hand on Tina's leg and gently stroked her fingertips over her inner thigh; perhaps she could make Tyler feel the same way! Tina clamped her legs briefly together to hold Katie's hand in an appreciative embrace before spreading them wide to allow her to roam wherever she wished. Justin looked over the coffee table to stare at his sister's crotch. "It looks like you're getting hot already; your knickers are showing damp patches." He looked higher at Tina's smile and then across into Katie's eyes. "I can understand that; I find it rather exciting being here with three attractive girls." Katie watched as his eyes travelled down her body before her own eyes were attracted to the slight movement of his hand sliding forward to gently squeeze Tyler's tit. "Well I don't want to go home in underwear that is so starched it will keep its shape so excuse me Katie." Tina stood and reached under her skirt. She bent over and drew the offending article down to her ankles and stepped out of them. The panties were dropped between the glasses on the coffee table. Tina resumed her seat and lifted Katie's unresisting hand to restore it to its former position on her leg. Katie and Tyler had gotten into the habit of wearing skirts when they were together since they were easier to work around than jeans. If for some reason Katie's parents came down, or they had to go up they, like Tina now, would be immediately presentable simply by standing. Pulling on and zipping up jeans might just take long enough to cause a problem. Justin could now see the contrasting light and dark of Tina's furry bush against her pale skin. "That looks much better, doesn't it Tyler?" Tyler had to strain back against him to see and he used her breast to help pull her back into his body. There was nothing forceful about his grip, it was more a flat palm compressing the flesh and it did feel nice to Tyler. She lifted her own hand and placed it on the back of his. He was making progress! The evening had turned out quite different than he had expected. When he and Tina were together they shared the horniness of raging teenage hormones and on her emergence they were of one mind about doing something about it. It was a far different matter of seduction and counter- seduction with girls who were in two minds about how far to go with him. He was surprised by how much more fun he was having and could feel his heart thumping louder with the excitement of the "chase". Tyler did wet her lips at the sight of Tina's bare pussy but didn't comment. "Can't you see it clearly? Katie would you mind just moving Tina's skirt up a little please?" It was easy for Tina and Justin to play off against each other; they knew what they were interested in and prepared to do and having opened up the evening to sexual matters they hoped it would be easier for the others to follow. Katie did as she was asked, breaking her gaze at the mesmerised Tyler to sneak her own peek at the sweet sight. So far Justin was leading them much as Tina had the previous week. Justin caught Tina's eyes and nodded towards Katie. Tina turned and saw Katie glancing down at her exposed bush then glance away for a while before returning for another look. She was certainly interested but would she take it a step further? Tina reached under Katie's arm and slowly eased her skirt up as well. Katie looked down as her black thong became visible. She checked across the room and both Tyler and Justin were watching the slow exposure. She blushed at the same time as she got a thrill at the situation and wasn't surprised to hear "Why don't you slip those off too?" At least the suggestion wasn't surprising but the speaker was! Tyler wanted to see her pussy too. Feeling rather slutty Katie stood and lifted her skirt high with both hands while she turned to display the black cord between her white cheeks. She then bent so the full curve of her pussy lips could be seen through her legs from behind. Justin could also see the variation in shade where her puckered asshole was barely covered by the thin strand. He wondered if Katie would have been so open had she known what she was revealing; his cock throbbed at the thought of running his hands over those ivory cheeks. Katie dropped the skirt as she stood; the curtain closing to signal the end of the overture. She slipped her hands up under the sides and used her thumbs to draw the thong down to her knees. Flipping the back of her skirt up she sat and carelessly kicked the thong off her legs making it land atop Tina's lacy whites. Tina place her hand on Katie's thigh and slid it up the leg so Katie's skirt drifted up as well. Tyler watched while she also became aware of Justin's thudding heart behind her head. He was trying his best to massage her breast in a pleasing manner but her clothing ruined most of his efforts. "Oh well, If they can flash a bit of pussy..." She leaned forward and stripped off her top, waiting there until Justin got the hint. He couldn't help grinning as he released the clasp and slid the straps over her shoulders. Tyler added her bra to the growing pile on the table and slipped her t-shirt back over only her head; it gave Justin as much access as he might need yet allowed her to quickly cover up - none of them were sure the old customs would still apply when a boy was down here. Justin did take advantage of her dishabille, turning on the settee so that Tyler could rest square against his chest rather than at an angle. He could now wrap his arms around her bare body and use both his hands to far greater effect. Tina knew just how nice his hands felt as she watched his thumbs stroke over the surface of the plump breasts, teasing the other girl as he barely avoided the wide circular disks that surrounded her fat flat nipples. Flat? Tina watched as they visibly grew when her "cousin" made the lightest contact. It was almost as though they were straining to touch him. Tyler had closed her eyes and leaned her head back on Justin's collar bone. She thought that this was starting to look like a very good night yet so far there had been less physical contact than she could have experienced on any movie date. "He makes you feel good doesn't he?" Tyler opened her eyes and looked across at Tina. They traced a path down Tina's arm to where her hand rested between Katie's legs and then Katie's down between Tina's; both of them were gently stroking their fingers over the surfaces of each other's pussy. "Mmm" She ran a tongue over her lips and saw both the other girls' tongues briefly appear in a sympathetic echo. "Justin?" Tina's quietly whispered call had three pairs of eyes turned her way. "Swap with me please." Katie didn't mind - Justin was looking a better prospect and she was happy for him to play with HER breasts for a while - but Tyler looked more rebellious. It seemed like she had only shucked her clothing a few seconds ago and now, when things were finally moving for her, Tina wanted to call a halt. If it hadn't been for Tina planting her mouth on Tyler's tit before Justin had a chance to release them she might have protested but the feel of hand and tongue operating in unison on the same tit drove those thoughts from her mind. Justin released one mound and supported Tyler's body while he squirmed out then gently lowered her head back onto the chair's upholstered arm. With his sister attached limpet-like to one of Tyler's tits he leaned down and gave his classmate a tender kiss; he had to try to hold back his own passion - the night was still young. Katie was waiting for him but he couldn't resist, there was a tit free and it lay there on Tyler's chest like a target; a large outer circle where gravity drew the large tit against her rib cage, a wide dark circle and then in the centre a reddish-brown knob, pimply coated and ready for the arrow head of his tongue. He struck off-centre then let his tongue drift over and around the bullseye before inhaling the raspberry into his mouth and gently biting deep behind the nipple. He released it with a kiss and looked lovingly into Tyler's eyes as he mouthed "I'll be back." Katie had been waiting extremely patiently. No she hadn't! She was envious of the attention her girlfriend was getting from the newcomers and had taken herself in hand. She had already removed her bra when Tina had deserted her and was letting a finger dip into the juice banked up behind her pussy lips. She stopped when Justin stood up but not before he had caught sight of her behaviour. He knelt before her and took her face between his hands; she leaned into his kiss, returning it and worming her tongue into his mouth. They explored each other, relishing the wet feel and clean taste, then Justin sat back on his heels and rested his palms on her thighs instead. He pushed them gently apart and Katie let her legs spread as she watched him staring at her exposed pussy. She blushed once again; everything was so different from meeting him at school. Justin took her hand and, turning it palm upwards, kissed her wrist. At the door his mock gallantry had been a bit of fun, now it was serious foreplay. He and Tina had "borrowed" one of their parents' books, one that had given them many practical hints regarding the arts of love and the attainment of mutual pleasure. One chapter had dealt with the necessity of wooing one's partner and the use of areas of their body with erotic potential but which were often ignored in the rush to insert Part A in Slot B. He could have proceeded, Gomez Addams style, up her arm to her neck but decided instead to travel in the opposite direction; as Gomez might also have done had Morticia been inclined to dip her fingers in her black shrouded twat. He kissed the fleshy ball of her thumb as he held her hand in both of his, then pressed his lips to the end of that thick digit. Katie was enjoying being the recipient of the unusual attentions and didn't connect her earlier activity with his actions until she heard his purr of delight as he slid her next fingers between his lips and laved them clean with his tongue. "More please." He looked directly into her eyes; it took a little while before he saw the globe light up over her head accompanied by a short sharp intake of breath. Katie found his request that she coat her fingers with her juices while he watched to be far more erotic than had he inserted his own into her virgin cunt. She lifted her hand from his and slowly moved it between her legs. Justin once again applied the gentle pressure, instructing her to widen the gap so he had a clear view. She looked across to see if her wanton behaviour was also being observed by the others but they were busy with their own passionate kisses and, since Tina had now removed her own top, a little breast to breast massage. Katie parted her lips, sliding over the furry surface and into the damp furrow. She slid her finger back and forth while Justin watched. "Deeper please." Oh this was getting kinky - at least for fifteen old classmates on a first "date" - and she was getting wetter. She slid her finger in to the first knuckle and, watching Justin's excited interest, splayed her fingers so he could clearly see the second knuckle as it disappeared inside her. "I can't believe I'm doing this", she softly told him. Even before Tina had come back more regularly into his life Justin had felt what it was like to dip his finger into a damp vagina, although at that stage it was his own - a fact that would have left Katie and Tyler stunned if they dared tell them, and one he could no longer prove while Tina remained at his side. It was only after the doctor had surgically deflowered him that he was able to feel further up inside himself but that, though feeling good, was nowhere near as interesting as watching a girl doing it, especially one who spent several hours of every day seated near him in one class after another. Katie removed the glistening digit and hesitatingly offered it to him. He made a show of inhaling the heady scent and then letting her watch him lick each side clean rather than sucking the juicy secretions from her finger. Her hopes of having his touch on her breasts were shattered and replaced by something even more magnificent as he bent and planted a kiss on the furry mantelpiece. He reached behind her and, placing his hands on her buttocks for the first time, used her ass cheeks to guide her forward until she was sitting on the edge of the chair. He parted her outer lips with his fingers and looked at the intricate structure. Like fingerprints (and indeed noses, ears, mouths and penises), no two pussies are quite the same and Justin was caught up for a few seconds in the differences between the display in front of him and the only other vulva he was familiar with. "Lovely", he smiled, "Perfectly lovely." With a brief glance at Katie's own smile at his slight compliment he moved his face closer. The kiss on her pussy was a revelation for Katie. His soft lips did not compare even to a gentle touch of someone's fingers. Fifteen year old boys were supposed to be clumsy, fumbling with catches, clashing teeth when they kissed, pinching nipples too tightly - all reasons for NOT getting involved with them. "So how come Justin is different", she asked herself. Tina could have told her that he hadn't been at first; it was just he was a quick learner since he was much more aware of the effect of his mistakes and tended not to repeat them. Plus they had been getting nightly practice - far more than most teenagers managed in their first year or two once losing their virginity. And finally they had been eager to apply the information gleaned from their reading matter. Justin proceeded to show Katie the skills Tina had promised; he used his tongue to part the lips he had been kissing and freed the thin inner lips trapped between. Katie's were smoother, straighter and slightly thicker than Tina's convoluted labia and he wasn't able to suck them into his mouth where he wanted to lick the coating of juices from them. Instead he pressed his teeth lightly over them, a gentle nip that had Katie pushing her pussy further forward. Then she felt his tongue again; a single smooth pass over the top of her crevice, then another in the same direction - deeper this time, and yet a third - scooping up the sweet juices as it travelled through the depths. She felt it circle back around the outside rim, wetting the curly hairs and the side of her thighs before plunging into the source of her sweetness. The invasion of her most private place by a boy, and one she wasn't in love with, was against all she had been taught and the wrongness only added to the warm glow Justin's tongue was giving her. She reached under her top; the touch on her nipples was divine, as was Justin's mouth on her pussy. Her introduction to oral sex had her sold; she could actually feel his tongue writhing and thrusting inside her! In future, any boy who wanted anything from her would have to show a proficiency at rug munching or she would quickly give him the flick. While Justin had been getting to know Katie (or parts of her) better, Tina and Tyler had been stoking each other's fires. After working on Tyler's tits for a while, Tina had stood at the end of the couch and leaned over so Tyler could suck on her tit while she still had access to Tyler's plumper mounds. She also worked her hand under the waist band of Tyler's knickers so that she too had access to a hot pussy. Justin's tongue was simulated by Tina's long middle finger as she teased the lubrication from Tyler's cunt and spread it over the surface of her pussy. Tyler arched her back, forcing her chest into Tina's face, as Tina slid her finger deep into the hot, tight hole; it was thoroughly flooded by the thick slimy flow. She lifted her head from Tyler's nipple and turned her body to find her mouth instead. Tyler immediately sucked her tongue deep inside as she revelled in the feeling of being finger-fucked by her new girlfriend. She only wished Justin's hands were still fondling her breasts at the same time. The reminder made her turn her head without losing contact with Tina's mouth. The view was somewhat obscured by Tina's body but she wanted to see what the others were doing. There was her other girlfriend Katie, legs spread wider than Tyler would have believed possible, with Justin's head slowly bobbing over her pussy. Having never seen a porn video nor magazine it was a novel experience for Tyler. Though the view was restricted, it added to the excitement of the finger currently fucking her hot cunt and made it even hotter. Tina's finger slid out of the tight hole and rested instead over the bump where Tyler's clitoris struggled to break through a fold of skin that protected its sensitive nerve endings. Tyler felt the entire length of the slippery finger pass over the surface and quietly screamed into Tina's open mouth. She forgot about Katie and Justin as the sensations overwhelmed her. Wave after wave passed through her cunt, through hips and belly and then to the outer extremities of all four limbs. Tyler felt her eyelids flutter as her eyeballs turned up leaving Tina looking at sightless white orbs as she was forced to break off the kiss to avoid having her tongue bitten through as a rictus took hold of the girl beneath her. It was exciting to Tina to think that she could have such an effect and she carefully freed her hand from where it had been clamped between Tyler's spasming thighs so that she could wrap her arms around the other girl as she shuddered through her recovery. Tyler's arms eventually found their way behind Tina's back and she crushed her body to her, a silent "thank you" before she could find her voice to express it properly. As she recovered they both turned their heads to watch the other couple. Katie was now gripping her tits much more tightly than Justin would have dared. She took the painful stimulus to a level she could manage, finding that pain could bring pleasure. "I think she could use our help." "I was wondering the same thing; are you up to it yet?" "Yes thank you; and I do mean thank you Tina - that was wonderful." "Wait until you have Justin looking after you properly - he makes me faint!" After what she had just been through Tyler didn't know if she believed things could be better, or if she would survive if they were. Tina helped her to sit up, watching as her luscious tits flopped into place. Tyler stood and Tina, still kneeling, touched her tongue to one nipple and then the other; a barely felt finale to her earlier efforts, it never-the-less spurred Tyler into gently caressing the back of Tina's head before reaching down to help her to her feet. Moving in opposite directions around the coffee table they met face-to-face on either side of Justin and knelt for a closer look as he carefully tended to Katie's needs. He was holding her passions at a level that just staved off the orgasm she so earnestly desired and Tina could see the frustration in Katie's face that Tina had learned to love with a passion. "You really want to come, don't you Katie?" Katie could only nod her agreement. Tina lifted her side of Katie's top. "Help me Tyler." It joined the other clothes and Tyler took Katie's hand away from the closer breast; replacing it with her mouth she teased the other girl's proud nipple. Tina turned back from the coffee table and smiled at the view before copying Tyler. Katie now had three people paying attention to her needs, a situation that would have been impossible for her to have imagined even an hour earlier. She put a hand behind each of the other girls' heads and pressed their mouths harder to her breasts as she sought her release. Justin was pleased the others had come to help. He had been about to change tactics as his tongue was getting tired, though there was no way he was simply going to stop and leave Katie unsatisfied. Now it would be easier to push her that little bit further and hopefully past the point of no return. He slipped a hand up until it was under his chin and moved slightly forward so his mouth was positioned directly over Katie's now clearly detectable clit. He sucked on it as his thumb found a pool of juices then he eased it into Katie's vagina as she was distracted by the girls and by his clitoral kisses. Katie was so wet that he found no difficulty in sliding his thumb up as far as it would go. She knew she was virginal in a moral (or should that have been immoral?) sense while not possessing any obstruction to his explorations. As with his similar experiences with Tina, he felt the hard knob of her cervix and moved his thumb in a circle as he rubbed the rim. Hoping he would have an opportunity to investigate further at some other stage, and wishing he could replace his thumb with another organ of similar appearance but substantially more mass, Justin began to fuck Katie with his thumb. Now she was experiencing FOUR different sources of pleasure and Katie found herself reaching the summit so long denied her. Reaching that apex she found herself lifted even higher until she was shaking uncontrollably on the lounge before suddenly stiffening. Justin, his head caught too often in the past, had escaped her crushing thighs at the last possible moment though he would have to wait for a while to reclaim his trapped hand. He watched as the orgasm consumed Katie and at how her knuckles whitened as she clenched her fists through the other girls' hair. Tyler was in some discomfort and Tina was about to lose her wig. "Katie. Sweetheart. Let go now." Justin's voice was soothing. "Let go of their hair dear. Good." Katie still held their heads to her chest, no longer seeking stimulation but instead wanting their loving contact. Her fingers resumed their normal colour. She also eased her legs apart. Justin waited until he had a clear path to remove his thumb from her body. He suspected correctly that she wouldn't want further contact for a little while and didn't want to spoil the pleasure he had helped give her by a careless departure. Checking first that it was strong enough, he sat back on the coffee table and watched the three girls embracing as Katie came back to Earth. It was a couple of minutes before Tina and Tyler stood, easing their own knees. Tyler address her best friend first. "Good Katie?" "The best ever. Thank you; and thank YOU Justin." "It was my pleasure Katie. You taste absolutely delicious." "Better than me?" "Sorry love. Tonight at least she does." Katie, having experienced his "skills" wasn't surprised that Tina had been there first - she had to have had some reason to recommend him, and to be sure he was discrete, and nothing beat first-hand experience. Tyler was a little more surprised since all of HER cousins fell into the "Yuck!" category that would have her gnawing off her own leg to escape fooling around with any one of them (female as well as male). Still she certainly could see Justin's attraction, now, and looked forward to her own chance to experience more of his touch. She was not surprised however when he stood and Tina kissed him. A kiss didn't seem all that big a deal until they parted and Tina licked his lips and then his cheeks. "She IS delicious!" Tina turned to Tyler. "Oh we have got to try some of that when Katie has had a chance to recover!" Tyler wouldn't have considered muff diving before - that DID seem to cross the line between girlish experimentation with a friend (which MIGHT be excused by their peers) and actual lesbianism (which at their ages would be frowned upon and would probably lead to their being ostracised.) Now it looked more attractive. "We'll see", she thought, with a positively eager grin. "I think poor Justin needs a little rest though", his sister showed her concern. She wanted him to regain his stamina before being called upon to use that valuable tongue again. ********************************************************* The night's adventures are continued in Doppelganger 07

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Assassin Part: Chapter 16 of 27 Summary: Ass, sass and sin. A young assassin does more than befriend people when he tries to get close to his targets. Keywords: mf, Mmf, oral, inc Language: English Copyright: 2009 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* I had been given the job of getting close to one Adam Pringle - because he was a slippery bastard who was too nasty to live. He was also a hard man to get access to but fortunately his twin children Mark and Kyra were far more approachable though I'd unwittingly made a couple of poor decisions while trying to build a good cover story. Through my own carelessness and apparent good luck, my foster-sister Anna and two of the other players from her girls' soccer team all got together with me - at the same time - for some sweaty excitement. Of course, my "duties" required that I not neglect Mark and Kyra and so I spent an exhausting afternoon with them at their father's ranch house where horses weren't the only thing ridden. ********************************************************* Sunday - late afternoon. Kyra slept on the way back - I would have loved to have joined her but Mark was just as tired and talking to him ensured we all did get back to their home safely. I sat opposite to him in the back and Kyra lay across the seat with her head in my lap while I gently caressed her arm or side or hair. There was no need for anything sexual; there was currently no "need" within us any more and if it returned there would still be time for whatever we deemed safe. "Won't he ask who you were with?" "I can always say Lydia." Mark named the mare that had briefly been my steed. "He won't recognise the name?" "He doesn't bother with their names unless he's looking for them in a competition list. Lydia was never that good. No, he might remember Thunder but he probably could only name Wintergreen - that's Michelle's horse. "And what about me then? How is he going to take Kyra and I having sex?" "I wouldn't tell him myself." "I hadn't planned to but I expect it would be obvious." "So long as it's not obvious that *I* did! God! I can't believe it. I think he'd kill me." "Worse than if he found out about us?" "Oh then he'd probably only have me beaten to a pulp. You'd be the one he killed then, though you'd probably be killed for knowing I'd fucked Kyra! I can't believe I can even *SAY* that!" I assumed he was referring to Kyra and not my demise. "So we don't tell him. You should really think about getting a girlfriend though considering the situation. There must be someone who doesn't make your stomach churn." "Yeah - Kyra, but I don't think that's a workable solution." "I guess the first thing is to find someone you don't mind being around. There are a few like that - I've seen you socialising." "Talking to them is easy enough but I don't have to get involved with them." "And then there's the guys you wouldn't mind being involved with but you're stuck talking to them." "Why does life have to be so bloody unfair!?" "I can't say. I think it stinks at times and I've got the best of both worlds. At least I have at the moment. I can hug your manly body and snuggle into Kyra's softness. That doesn't worry you, does it?" "Well it's not exactly how I'd have planned it but I'm better off than I've ever been before." "So you need to see what we can do to make things safer. How about a younger girl? I know they rabbit on sometimes but you're going to be under her parents' watchful eyes and that can keep you out of more mischief - plus you can find you don't have anything in common before things get hot." "I'd have to kiss her though. I really don't like that idea." "There aren't guys you don't want to kiss?" "Of course there are - but *THEY* don't expect me to kiss them." "Get a cold sore." "You're not being helpful!" "No, scratch your lip so you have a scab. *CALL* it herpes." What was I doing!? By the time Mark had a girl in a position where it mattered how he behaved his father would no longer be an issue. Still it fitted the persona I had employed and gave us something to discuss on the trip back to their house. "Julia's not bad I guess." Julia, I thought. Julia? Ah! Yes. Not actually in any of my classes but I remembered someone talking about her. On the ordinary side but still acceptable; more to the point, on the flatter side. You could see she was a girl and I think she would be interesting to bed since she was intelligent enough to come up with her own little twists. On the down side, she didn't have anyone interested in her that I'd heard about and might fall heavily once someone did show they fancied her. Of course I could have been totally off target and Julia might have been quite content with her lot, even asexual by choice. Looking at my initial ideas about how Rosalee and Hailey would react, I certainly wasn't going to put money on any particular outcome. "She's fairly smart isn't she?" "Yeah. Friendly too." "So what would you do? Get her to help you with something? (A ruse Anna and I had successfully used to get some privacy.) Or include her in your conversations more and perhaps ask her why you never see her at the Sharp Angle?" "I don't know. I don't even know if I want to go out with her. I wish I could just let everyone know we were lovers." "It would certainly cause as stir at school. Maybe we could each invite one of the football team to the prom and start a couple of more rumours about them." "We'd end up underneath the football team." I camped things up. "Oh you're just saying that to tease!" "Don't!" Mark shivered. "That's exactly how my father thinks of me. He thinks if he allowed me to even think I was gay I'd be getting butt-fucked by every guy in school and the neighbourhood." "Well not all at once. You'd never get the grin off your face!" "Roger!" At least he was laughing now. "Sorry mate, I can't help it. When the situation is ridiculous ridicule it!." "I guess. Well if you could have any guy on the football team who would you choose?" "My tastes don't really go to the jock mentality. If you really wanted to tempt me there's the guy on the squash team - very short hair except at the back, he has like a little ponytail." "Dwayne." "Dwayne!? Sounds like a good ol' boy; definitely not the finely boned athlete that makes my heart race." "Really? And you know his bone is so fine?" "No. I'm just trying to make you jealous. He does look nice and fit and has sounded okay but I fear he is as straight as a... well, whatever a pretzel isn't." "So you think of me as a pretzel?" "I think of myself as a pretzel. You might be a boomerang. I just hope you keep coming back to me." "Well coming seems to be the right word for what we do together." "I'm glad you and Kyra could help each other out like that." "Help each other? How?" "Well, satisfy each other's need needs." "I still feel it was wrong." "But the nicest possible wrong, wasn't it? I wonder what we could do to vary things some more. How about Kyra blowing you while you're sitting on my lap with my hard prick buried as deeply in your ass as you were in Kyra?" "I'd rather we blew each other." "Mmm. Want to turn around?" "You're not getting cold feet about meeting my father are you?" "I guess a little. It would be one thing if I was meeting your father openly but I'm really meeting Kyra's if you understand. I wonder if anyone has ever had such a mix-up?" "I guess there would have been plenty of guys over the years who dated one sister and then fell for the other. Some of them had to have been careless and let them overlap." "But how many of them fucked both sisters together, at the same time?" The question was asked by a female voice. I looked down. "Hello love. Back with us again then?" "Mmm. You can be my pillow all the time. What were you saying about Daddy?" "Mainly that it was strange being invited in one guise when I'm actually something completely different." "You don't want to be my boyfriend?" "Well I don't know what I want for the rest of my life. I do know that it would be interesting with either of you. For now I'm thankful for knowing you both and for being able to share what we do. If that means being your boyfriend in public and Mark's in secret and you are both okay with that I don't mind facing up to your father. Just, does he expect me to ask his permission or anything weird like that?" Kyra and Mark laughed. "I think he will warn you to treat her right and to be careful not to break her heart or he might have to break some things of yours." "So you can dump me love but I can't dump you." "Just so long as you know." For some reason that didn't worry me. --- Beverley made me welcome. I wondered what Mark would say if I suggested a little two on one with her; it was a suggestion that would never reach my lips - fooling around with Adam Pringle's daughter was risky unless you were prospective son-in-law material; even joking that Beverley was a MILF was likely to be a capital offence. I was not stupid. We were home in plenty of time for dinner so it wasn't a case of sitting down at the table as soon as we walked in the door. Adam was elsewhere - the where and why not even offered, merely a "...will be joining us soon." Instead I was settled into a comfortable lounge in a room full of expensive-looking ornamentation and supplied with my every need. Well, Beverley brought a cola for me. Kyra sat beside me and Mark opposite where our toes could brush together under the long low coffee table. Michelle kept us company and I have to say Kyra accepted her 12 year old half-sister's presence with what I can only call extreme good will. Kyra actually spoke with Michelle instead of to her. "I had a good day, not even Miss Prissy was going to get me down," was how she described it later. Michelle was disappointed I hadn't brought my toys with me. I grinned and promised to bring my remote controlled cars over some time and she could try driving them. "Oh I don't need to drive yours, I've got one of my own. I wanted to learn how to race it like you do."m "Okay. We'll organise a race some time then." I had no objection to Adam Pringle's own family providing an extra reason for me to bring the cars back. Her next comment was fortunately delayed until after her mother had brought us our refreshments and then left us to our own devices while she made sure dinner would be ready whenever her husband arrived; it made me snort cola out my nose - not fun. "So are you fucking Kyra?" "What!?" Kyra was astounded. "Well I heard Daddy saying, er,..." Michelle's eyes looked heavenward as she recalled the words. "...'I'm sure the little cunt is fucking Kyra. Find out what he's doing with those other sluts you told me about.' I figured you must be the little cunt because he said your name before. I don't think it was a nice thing to call you." "And it's not a nice thing for you to repeat. Daddy wouldn't be happy to know you were listening to his conversation." Michelle looked sad. "But is he fucking you?" "Why? Why is it even any of your business?" "Because if he is, then he has to be your boyfriend cause that's what boyfriends do. And if he's your boyfriend then he's going to be coming around all the time and that's good 'cause I like him." A crush! I did not want a 12 year old pursuing me! At least the others spared me the embarrassment of having the crush acknowledged by them. Fortunately Mark came to the rescue, at least as far as the explanation went - I was on my own regarding dealing with Michelle. "Roger *IS* Kyra's boyfriend but you can be a boyfriend without having sex and you can have sex without being boyfriend and girlfriend. And I think you should say 'making love' rather than 'fucking' - it sounds much nicer." "And Daddy's not as likely to whoop your ass!" Kyra! I thought. "But if Roger is your boyfriend and you *ARE* making love..." Michelle paused. "Yes?" asked Kyra with only a hint of threat in her voice. "Well, what's it like, really?" Kyra had a smug look on her face and I worried what she would say. "*IF* we were making love then it would be so good he would make my heart pound, and my legs and arms go weak, and I'd scream." "Oh." Michelle turned to me. "Kyra screams at me sometimes, especially if I annoy her. I hope it doesn't worry you because she can be nice too - I've been told." I smiled at the mild cattiness. "Yes, I think she can be nice as well." "I hope I get a boyfriend who makes me scream too." "You're too young." Michelle looked at her sister again. "That's what Daddy said about you two; that you were too young to be careful and if Roger made you pregnant, he'd have to find Roger a job so he could afford a wife. Does that mean Roger would live here with us?" "I've only been going out with Roger for a couple of weeks. We are *NOT* getting married!!" "See I told you she screams at me when I annoy her. Gotcha!" Michelle smiled broadly and stood up. "I may only be 12 but I'm not stupid. Plus I wasn't lying about what Daddy said. See you at dinner Roger." She waved to Mark and left us alone. "Sorry Roger." "That's okay Kyra. I don't mind her. She's interesting." "I didn't mean Michelle. I meant my father and us and everything. Michelle does love to stir me but she wouldn't have lied; we've brought you into a situation where you're likely to find yourself in so deep you won't be able to get out. I think it might be best for you to go and I'll tell my father I thought we were incompatible and broke up with you." A valiant gesture, forsaking her current sexual happiness and possible romantic future for my wellbeing. We did get on well enough that there was the potential for Roger Torrent to propose to Kyra Pringle at some stage in a few years time. How Mark would fit into that life would be hard to say but there were some interesting possibilities. Unfortunately for Kyra, *I* wasn't Roger Torrent and while I had no intentions of spending more than a few more days with Kyra or Mark I did need that time. "You want to get rid of me? I thought you liked me." "I do. That's why you can't be my boyfriend." "Have you thought that maybe I don't want to *NOT* be your boyfriend?" Kyra looked to be torn between worry over what her father would do to me and worry that she was losing something more than a good, or great, fuck. "We knew that your father might *NOT* approve of me - why is it worse if he insists on approving?" "It can get worse if he changes his mind," Mark added his view. I looked at him. "There's a couple of reasons why I'd like to see this through - not just one. I don't like just dropping my friends. I can't see any reason why I should. I'm more inclined to be as honest as possible. As possible," I repeated, "and just see how things work out." "Honest?" Kyra asked. "Well we've only known each other for a couple of weeks but feel strongly for each other. That we're both a mass of teenage hormones but so far haven't had a chance to be alone so are still thinking about sex." "Constantly," muttered Mark. "You're a terrible friend; not letting me be alone with your sister!" Mark only grinned. "Okay, so you're still my boyfriend." "Think Dad will let him sleep over?" Mark teased. Kyra shuddered. She really had no idea just how her father would react to her openly fucking me. I guess she had hoped to keep the role of *NEW* boyfriend going for a while before having to deal with her father in some new frame of mind. Her father could be extremely hypocritical about some matters - for instance his own sexual morals - but then again occasionally he would be tolerant when she didn't expect it. Michelle returned, walking down the corridor so we knew she hadn't been eavesdropping outside the door. "Daddy's home if you'd like to wash up and come to the dining room." She flounced away, the contrast with her earlier aplomb making her look far younger than 12. With mutual looks that said "Well this is it!", we rose and headed out of the room. As we reached the doorway I waited for Kyra to pass through first and reached behind me to give Mark's hand a squeeze before catching up and taking Kyra's hand in mind. I figured that the best approach was going to be to show we weren't afraid to let them all know how we felt - it was a decision I'd made in consultation with hopefully wiser minds before setting out on this job. Much of the discussions were centred on how Adam and his two eldest children were likely to react in given situations. Then we had considered how best to handle the times when they didn't do as they were supposed to. It was like chess masters looking at possible moves and appropriate responses. The better the players, the further ahead they could look. In this case the moves were fuzzier and one could only plan for milestone events and hope that adlibbed action could bring circumstances back on course for the next milestone. Beverly noted our hands and sat me next to Kyra with Mark facing his sister across the table while Michelle sat opposite me. We were at a normal sized table rather than one designed for bigger dinners or conferences and that meant Beverley was seated at one end between Michelle and myself while Paul, when he joined us a couple of minutes later, took the head of the table between his older children. "Sorry I'm late; welcome Roger." His voice said I was welcome but his eyes denied it. Dinner was like being served at a restaurant rather than the image one gets of an English butler presiding over the lord's dining room. I guess the big difference from a restaurant was that, while Kyra had checked during the week that I had no dietary problems or persuasions, we all ate the same. Adam controlled the conversation while the food was being served and when the dishes were being removed. "What has everyone been doing on such a wonderful day?" "Mommy and I went down to the Country Club for lunch and then went to the Mall." It wasn't that unusual a pastime. I was sure that many mother-daughter pairs (together with siblings or even an occasional father) would have gone out for Sunday lunch and then some shopping. Most probably ate in the food court at the mall rather than having something like pheasant pate, avocado souffl, and lemon flan with passionfruit sorbet. Most would have spent their time in department stores rather than boutiques looking at one- of-a-kind outfits. "I hope you found something nice. You'll have to show me after dinner." The look on Adam's face now was one of doting pleasure for both his wife and young daughter. Mark was bypassed when Adam turned to Kyra, "And did you end up at the ranch?" If it *WAS* ever a ranch it would have been the back pocket of some larger property but I guess Adam was free to call it what he would. While there was no problem with us gong there, Mark and Kyra had had to get permission first so it was no secret where we had spent our day but how it had been spent appeared safely confidential. "You ride okay Roger? Like horses?" "I like them. I can manage to stay on but I can't say that I've had enough experience to be sure how good a rider I am." "Well perhaps you can get Mark to coach you - you might end up getting him into the saddle with you and Kyra again." I had an image of Kyra being penetrated front and back while sitting on some unfortunate horse. I could just about handle that until I realised I had seated Mark with his back to the horses neck and then had us share a western saddle. The saddle horn was dildo-like and mark writhed on it as we jogged along. Fortunately Adam was looking at his son and not me. My smile would have been out of place. "And after lunch?" What? He expected full details of how we had spent our time? "We used the Jacuzzi and then watched a movie," Mark offered. Adam grunted, I was sure with disbelief that that was all we had done, and the conversation moved on to more mundane topics with the inevitable "what do you want to do when you leave school?" that any new boyfriend might expect. I in turn made comments that suitably indicated that, while I expected to go to college or university, I didn't really have a particular goal in mind other than I had an interest in electronics. We survived dinner and I have to compliment the kitchen staff; the meal was delicious. Of course, as Adam rose to indicate the meal was over, he spoiled the improving mood. "Roger, would you like to come with me please." No-one raised any complaint on my behalf and I followed him out the door, well aware it was only his phrasing that offered me a choice. In his study I was seated across the other side of a magnificent bare desk - dark mahogany timber with burgundy leather top; I think the setting was intended to be intimidating, especially as my chair was lower than was comfortable with no means of adjusting it. I enjoyed the psychological games up to a point, and ignored my inferior position. "Kyra seems to like you." "I like Kyra, sir." A slight pause before the sir for added effect. There was no suggestion I should call him anything else - certainly not Adam. "I wouldn't like to see her get hurt. I wouldn't like to see *EITHER* of you get hurt." "I have the utmost respect for her sir." "I'm sure you do. I'm sure you do." Oh no! No-one warned me he was a repeater! "So what do you do with the rest of your time when you're not seeing her?" "I've got school..." "Well yesterday for instance. Surely you didn't study all day?" "My foster sister plays soccer so I watched her in the morning then she and her friends wanted to go swimming up at the lake. It's up in the State Park. I've got my licence so they asked me if I'd take them." "*HER* friends? I understood you took them out the previous week?" "How...? Well, yeah. I didn't know anyone so I asked them to see what they were like." "And?" "They are okay." "And you're just seeing what my daughter is like too?" "I'm getting to know her better if that is what you mean. I know what she is like from school and seeing her when we were all out." "You seem to get to know people very quickly." "Sir?" "Don't try to tell me you haven't been fooling around together." "Well we've kissed." "And I suppose you all wore bathing suits in the spa?" "Uh, I guess I'm not one to worry about them much sir. My parents never bothered with them when I was growing up and nudity isn't an issue to me. I apologise if I've offended you." My history was partly truth; my parents had never taken me swimming and so had never bothered with swimsuits for themselves or me. In that regard I might no have differed from millions of others living in the poorer parts of some large cities. "At least you're not stupid enough to try and lie about it." "My foster parents have let me know that they clearly remember what teenagers get up to, sir. I had no doubts you were the same." Adam grunted. "Sir, I like Kyra and I'm friends with Mark. I've only been seeing Kyra for a little while and this is really the only time we have gone out together. Aside from the time he went in to put the pizza in the oven while we were riding, Mark was with us all the time." "So you only got up to a bit of skinny dipping?" "Yes sir." "Do you drink?" "Not really. I've had a beer or two but that is all." "One thing I won't accept is you drinking and driving - or that you use dope or any other drugs. If you drink, you'd better lose your keys. You drink and drive when you're in the car without my kids, your car will look like it's been in an accident. You do it with any of them *IN* the car and *YOU'LL* look like you've been in one. Is that clear?" "Yes sir." "Good. If you use any dugs and can't go cold turkey now, you'd better start running for the door because I will find out and you won't like the sort of rehab I put you through. Okay, I'm not going to tell you that you have my permission to fuck my daughter. Getting my permission is not going to happen! What you do have is the knowledge that I'm not going to kick you out of my front door. "You've got potential and if *KYRA* decides you're what she wants then I guess my permission wouldn't matter anyway. What I expect is that you show Kyra respect and you behave yourselves when Michelle is around. You upset either of them and you *WILL* answer to me. Understand?" "Yes sir." "I doubt you do but I'll accept that." "Thank you sir." "You don't have anything to thank me for - yet. If however you feel that there is any reason you might not be able to live up to Kyra's expectations you might want to come and speak to me first. That's one piece of advice you might be thankful for but I think you would be better off meeting her expectations." What could I say to any of this? "I will try my best sir." "Go on then and enjoy yourselves but remember - in moderation." "Thank you sir." I got up and left. Things had worked out better than I had expected though I had lost count of how many times I had kowtowed to Adam. We could never have been sure just how strict he would be with his daughter regarding sex. The rest had been the expected degree of threat. I'd been shown the stick and Kyra was the carrot. "Well?" asked Kyra when I found her and Mark alone in her room. She looked a little flushed but then do did Mark. "I owned up to us skinny dipping in the spa but, because Mark was with us, all we did was kiss. What have *YOU* two been up to though?" Kyra blushed. I have to admit that made her look quite vulnerable and attractive. "I've just been practising." "Practising?" "Blowjobs." I gave Mark a short jab to the upper arm. "And?" "She made me come in less than a minute." "Well done, both of you!" "Well we figured this was one time Dad wasn't going to be walking in on us and we could see Beverley outside with Michelle." I looked out the window and Beverley was sitting enjoying the last of the day's rays. As I watched, Michelle came out of the building and sat beside her mother. She looked up at the window, saw me standing there, and waved with a broad smile on her face. I waved back. "Do you want one, or perhaps a fuck?" "I don't know that we dare. I would love to make love to you both again but all we could risk would be a quickie either way. I can leave you this though." I rummaged through my backpack and presented Kyra with the tube of lube. Her eyes lit and when she looked at Mark her tongue traced a wet path across her lips. It appeared her ass wasn't too sore after all. "And there is no reason I can't make you feel good. Come over here." Kyra threw the lube into her top drawer and followed me to the window. "Look down there." I slid my hand into her underwear - just below the windowsill. "Your family can look up at any time and watch as I finger-fuck you." I rubbed her pussy. "They can look up and wonder what we are doing. Beverley would understand; even Michelle might know what it feels like to rub herself. How do you feel knowing they realise what you're going through?" "Hot. Geez you're dirty-minded. I love you." "Love you too. Hey look there's your father. No. Don't pull away. He's not looking this way - yet. How about I lean back against the window and you bend over so he can't see you? Do you think he could tell if I was fucking you like that?" "Oh do me that way - please! But stand against the wall. I don't care if he saw us but I don't want him to interrupt us." I accepted her conditions and she whirled around to kiss me before stepping to the side. "You feel like warming me up Mark?" He grinned with the realisation that he wasn't going to be left out and my pants and underwear were suddenly around my ankles. Kyra wasn't going to let Mark have me entirely to himself but he didn't mind sharing - a little. He soon reminded her she was going to have exclusive access though and she relinquished her hold, standing and removing her knickers before kissing me instead. A girl wearing a skirt has a big advantage over a boy since she can look perfectly dressed by standing up even when not wearing underwear. A boy has the advantage that, provided he hasn't creamed his jeans, a parent walking into the room won't be able to smell his arousal. We could clearly smell Kyra and I dipped my fingers and shared the sweet nectar with her. I had to get Mark to stop, caressing his cheek before indicating that he was making me too aroused. He stood and I spent a few minutes kissing him and his sister - and watching them exchanging saliva - while I calmed down. A quick look showed Adam had settled down to enjoy the sunset as well. I had Kyra bend over as we had discussed. She was athletic enough to get her head down near her ankles by wrapping her arms behind her knees and I pushed into the tightness of her constricted cunt. She relaxed a second to allow me to go deeper and then bent down as far as possible so I was trapped. I could rock her hips but there was relatively little movement between us. Positioned like this her cunt was tighter than her ass. What would her ass feel like!? Of course, the strain on her calves was incredible and Kyra had to straighten. I cupped her breasts through her bra from behind and Mark stood kissing her while she held his shoulders for support. Now my prick was forced back closer to my belly, rubbing inside at the front of Kyra's cunt where the nerve endings of her G-spot made her shiver. Mark didn't just kiss his sister though; he was able to reach under her - not to finger her pussy, but rather to rub the front of my shaft where it couldn't get inside Kyra and my balls where they dangled free. We stood there for a few minutes, struggling together. The limited scope for movement kept me sane while the nature of the movement had a heightened effect on Kyra. Eventually she appealed for me to fuck her properly while, to ease her legs, she asked if we could move her to her bed. I took another quick look; Adam was still there with his wife but Michelle was gone. I didn't think that mattered enough to stop what was going to happen. Okay, I admit that just *MAYBE* I was thinking with my little head for the time being. The door was locked - a guilty enough sign by itself but at least we could pretend innocence. I wasn't aware though that Michelle had found a flaw in the built in wardrobe of the adjacent room which allowed her to hear what was going on even if she had no way of seeing. Kyra was laid on her back across the end of her bed and I knelt to lick her pussy. Michelle had been listening to the grunts, groans, sighs and moans for a while but there had been little said before Kyra asked me to fuck her properly. Now Michelle clearly heard her older half sister commanding me to eat her, to bury my tongue in her cunt, to swallow all her tasty juices. I can only suspect her own fingers did not remain dry. Next she heard Kyra say she needed my hard prick inside her again, soon followed by the commands "Deeper" then "Harder" and "Faster". Then came what should have been the most surprising instruction. "Mark, come here so I can suck your prick again. Come in my mouth and I'll swallow it all." It should have shocked Michelle but she had been in the wardrobe once already tonight and she knew then that the muted male voice complimenting Kyra's technique couldn't have been mine. Michelle's body wasn't yet far enough into puberty for her menses to start but the increasing hormones were changing her from girl-child to teen and she knew more than she had pretended earlier. She also knew that Kyra didn't really like her so having her beloved brother being serviced by *HER* was an insult. One she would try to repay. I was buried inside Kyra when she called Mark over, and using one hand to hold her leg up so she was both at a comfortable angle for some hard thrusts and also to help me stop her moving away from me when I was close to bottoming out. I used my other hand on her breast and, knowing Mark really didn't enjoy the sensation of that much squashy tissue (poor fool!), I instructed him to just roll Kyra's nipple between his thumb and finger. A comment Michelle also heard clearly. I have no doubts that, with that clue, Michelle would have tried the same just so she could imagine it was her who was with her brother and regardless of whether or not she had tried anything similar to herself at some stage. There may be little in common between the orgasm Kyra experienced and whatever pleasure Michelle found in her wardrobe; there was certainly nothing common between the joy one felt and the hatred of the other. Michelle would bide her time until she had a plan. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Day Of No Triffids Part: Chapter 7 Summary: In a world gone blind a few remaining sighted must try to preserve what they can but how will just 6 men manage to keep 400 women happy? Keywords: voy, nosex, rom Language: English Copyright: 2003 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* *** August 29, Morning Michael, Nancy and David got to share the morning's baby sitting duties, part of which was an instruction to try to make the job easier. They decided to start by organising a mass bathing session. While the women were there they would have a chance to reorganise the makeshift dormitory. The school had a pool, not very wide nor deep but it did allow three Olympic-sized lanes for swimming practice. It was also convection heated, a fact they found out when they had a chance to sit down with the caretaker and discuss the school's facilities. It was housed next to the gymnasium with a short walk through the unfortunate cool breeze. The three teenagers decided that it would be best to get the women to strip in the gym and follow each other into the almost steamy atmosphere where the pool was housed. The pool was big enough for them all to fit and it would give them something to do rather than just sit around. The chlorine level in the water had dropped with the decreased attention the caretaker had been able to provide during the last week though it still might not permit a good lather. It should suffice however. "What will we need then?" Nancy started ticking things off on her fingers, "Soap, shampoo, conditioner, towels, hairbrushes, deodorant. Anything else?" Michael responded, "Toothpaste, toothbrushes, floss, mouthwash." "What are they going to wear? Their clothes don't look too good." David's point was valid. "We don't have time for a lot of scavenging. They just need something to keep them warm for now. How about bathrobes?" Nancy's suggestion was considered reasonable and Michael thought a couple of classy hotels across the nearby parklands might have enough. David offered to wait while the other's went raiding. There was a station wagon in the carpark and they sorted through the small pile of keys they had taken from the former owners. Nancy found the first matching key so she got to drive. David was quite happy to let them go. The women had all settled down after breakfast and the meeting. Most were still tired; the morning had started early even if they couldn't see the rising sun. He thought back to the previous evening and the dramatic change that had occurred in his life. Just a few weeks earlier he had been in junior high, not unpopular but certainly not one of the "in" crowd. At 14 he had been just starting out, an occasional group date, a chance to pash from time to time at parties, getting hold of a good wank magazine "borrowed" from some friend's older brother; nothing unusual and certainly nothing like the experience during the evening. He had screwed his teacher! She was still willing and he had two more teachers lined up after her! His former classmates who had been high on his wish list now paled in comparison. This was certainly living. To experience it was one thing but he still had the puerile desire to boast about it, to bathe in someone else's admiration. His cousin Walter, also 14, was here as well. They had often gotten together in past years, young male minds thinking much along the same line. David hadn't had a chance to speak to him other than to say "Hi" in passing, though that had been more to the group which included Walter's father Stan and his elder sister Stella who were also blind. He wandered over to the "family" corner; nothing flasher than that but at least they knew each other. David's mother was there with his sister Ellen; Nancy's mother (David's Aunt Julie) and her elder sister Karen. He wondered where Nancy's younger sister was, not yet privy to the knowledge that Michael had "claimed" her and that she was currently asleep in Michael's room. He ignored his other cousin Graham who, being three years older, had tended to lord it over both David and Walter. It was surprising because Michael and Barry were both the same age yet neither of them had been such a pain. David thought privately that it was because of his Aunt Julie's dominance of her only son. "Hey Wally. Want to hang out for a bit?" He had rested his hand on his cousin's shoulder while gazing at Stella's magnificent pair. There was no hesitation; Walter had had enough of this lot for now. His Aunt Julie was going on - STILL; she was worse than a fire and brimstone preacher and Walter wasn't the only one who wished she would shut up. David led Walter over to the lounge area they had set up the previous day, far enough away from the sleeping area to allow privacy and so they wouldn't disturb the others. Sitting his cousin down he had a look around to see what Peter and Barry had set up. There was an ice chest that still had some cold bottles in it. Well one wouldn't affect him and there was no-one around now to tell him he couldn't have a beer. He looked at Walter with his hand on a bottle, "Want a beer?" Walter readily agreed. He didn't really like the taste but there wasn't anything else going on and he didn't want David to have to drink alone; he might not get invited back. He accepted the wet bottle and took a sip. It wasn't too bad after all. "So what have you been doing?" David handed him a bag of pretzels and laughed. "You wouldn't fucking believe it! We actually robbed a cop shop, with all the police still there. They gave us the keys and we just unlocked the cupboards, helped ourselves and walked out. It's the same with the shopping centres, they're just open for you to take whatever you want." Walter was sure there was a down-side but he had been taken down far enough himself when he lost his sight and much preferred to hear the highpoints instead. "And now you've got your choice of women?" Walter was a little put out when informed that he wouldn't be permitted to "put out", at least until the women were pregnant when he couldn't do any "harm", but found it was more a case of what he hadn't had wasn't yet being missed. It was all too new for him to feel hard done by. In contrast, while his father still had his mother, the other blind male, Graham, was really pissed about it. He had started making out before the disaster and having tasted honey he was being denied access to the beehive. The topic had been raised and David now had his chance to boast. "Most of the women are fairly normal looking and in their twenties though there are a few older ones. Then there are the school girls and they are all teenagers, mainly 15 to 17; some good lookers there though." He continued, on a more personal level, repeating some information that Walter already knew. "I had to make up a list of girls I liked. I guess Dad felt if we had to have a lot of women around it should at least include a few we personally liked. I got two from my class at school and another five that I knew from school and then three of the teachers. There were some more but we couldn't find them. I wanted to try looking again for one of them but now I'm not so sure." "Why?" It was an obvious question and once again gave David a lead in. Wally was making a great straight-man! "Last night I took one of my teachers to my room. She's 22 and gorgeous. Long brown hair and tits out to here." The exaggerated positioning of his hands unnoticed, he continued. "Forget everything you have heard about sex. It's ten times better." Walter had dreamed about one teacher at his school. He had never even had the opportunity to talk to her outside of his fantasies and they tended to be a little vague. He wondered if David could look for her? Even second- hand she would be something. "What happened?" David began to describe the evening. How they had stripped and he had looked at her naked body. How they had shared a shower with the young woman explaining to her even younger but very willing pupil just how to please a woman and in return benefiting from her goodwill. "Did she give you a blow job?" Always the lurid details! "Noo-o-o." She had shown David where to touch and how to lick her, in a number of very nice places, before mounting his prone body and riding his youthful cock. She had stroked his limp organ until it rose to pleasure them both all over again before they finally fell asleep in each other's arms but, no, she hadn't done more than give it a quick peck before she had first straddled his loins and buried it deep inside the most wonderful place on Earth. Perhaps blow jobs came in the next lesson? "You can probably get all the blow jobs you want now. They won't have any other men around (the fourteen year old David had gotten an automatic adulthood with his privileged status). If they want any special treats they will have to return the favour. It's not like there are a lot of other choices." "Gee thanks." David WAS a little conscious that as the youngest sighted person he might be down the pecking order and less desired be especially the older women. Still he and the other boys had been assured that "their" choices would be reserved for them as far as possible; there were certainly plenty of other choices for the rest of the men. "No I just meant if all of you expect to be treated, well, 'nicely', it won't do them any good to try shopping around." "That's true. I wonder if it will work?" "What do you mean?" "Well how about we get some of the girls over and see just how far they will go." "Sounds good to me." Walter wasn't sure how far he would be involved but it still broke the monotony. The group of schoolgirls David selected thought a chat session with the two boys would relieve their boredom too. He brought six of them back to the lounge and put some rugs and cushions on the floor for them to sit on. Except for one girl they had all been in the same class at school. Boarders together, they had found themselves isolated from family and friends when the sickness struck and had been somewhat relieved at being "rescued" from the stoic Mother Superior who felt that meeting their maker in a chaste state was preferable to the sort of rescue proposed. It took a little while for the conversation to get around to this. In the meantime David had proposed that they have a game of Drunken-Spin-The-Bottle to get to know each other. The girls agreed even though they outnumbered the boys. David sat opposite Walter with three girls between them on each side. David put his empty bottle in the middle and opened another two. He spun the bottle first and it pointed to the blonde girl on Walter's right. David moved across and knelt in front of her. Her blouse gaped a little, revealing a nicely developing cleavage. "Hi, my name's David." "I'm Christie." David leaned in and kissed her on the lips. Before he could move away she reached up to take his face in her hands and held him against her for a little longer. A good start. "Here you are then. You have to take a mouthful." There were a few laughs around the circle before he clarified, "I have some beer. It's 'Drunken-Spin-The-Bottle', you have to drink as well." "Okay." She tipped the bottle back and took a good swig. "Walter's turn." He moved back into position and Walter groped for the bottle. It span but he would have to trust Barry to point him in the right direction. "The girl on Christie's right." Walter felt his way around, using Christie's knees as a guide in both directions. "Hello. What's your name?" "Marnie." This girl was a little plumper than the others. David found her more pleasant to look at than the beanpoles in some of the other groups around the place, including some of the nurses, and wondered what she would look like naked. She certainly appeared to have more stuffed into her blouse than any of the others. David almost moved forward to help them find each other but with faces in the other person's hands they finally moved in. When they broke apart David handed her the bottle. She drank while Wally moved back into position. "My turn again." "Hey" There were a couple of protests. "How come we don't get a turn?" "Sorry", apologised David. "It just seemed that with only two boys it would be easier that way." The girl on David's left continued her complaint. "But that means we could be missing out for ages. At least when we are spinning we get a turn." David was happy to change the game. "Does everyone agree?" The act of nodding was ingrained. Only David was aware of the unanimous consent. "Alright then. You had better start. And your name is?" "Beth" David took her hand and placed it on the bottle. Vicki had said touch was an important part of a relationship. He wasn't sure if it applied in situations like this but it couldn't hurt. Beth gave it a mighty spin bouncing it painfully off one of the as yet unidentified girls' knee before coming to rest on Walter. "Lucky bastard", David thought. "Wally!" Beth wasn't sure which way to go so David told Wally to come forward while David turned her in his direction. Once again there was a little fumbling before they made contact. As Beth sat back into place David passed her the bottle. "But I was the spinner. Shouldn't Wally have to drink?" "He's ahead of you and we haven't got much. If you prefer ...?" "No, that's alright." She drained the rest of the bottle. David put it out the way and took her hand in his as it rested on her leg. She squeezed it in return. With long brown unkempt hair she looked like a slimmer Marnie; unfortunately, in David's opinion, lacking significant breast development but still with considerable charm. It was Marnie's turn and she too got Walter. Had he done something to rig the bottle? Marnie started the fresh bottle, leaving only half for the next player. Christie's turn and the trio on the other side of the circle were getting restless. The action so far had been decidedly one sided! David rested his right hand gently on the thigh of the stranger next to him. His luck still held and she too place her hand over his and squeezed. He returned the squeeze briefly to her leg before addressing Christie. "Oh! Looks like you missed Walter. You're pointing square at the lovely lady on his left." Christie found the bottle and verified his ruling. It was Walter's turn now to have his knees used as a guide and Christie found her temporary partner. "Who's this?" The girl in front of her spoke up softly, embarrassed not so much that she had been "chosen" by another girl but rather that she was the first to have been and could therefore expect a bit more ribaldry after the kiss than those to follow when the novelty had worn off some. "It's Viv." She reached to find Christie but as that girl had moved closer she ended up merely cupping Christie's breast as Christie found her lips. David noticed the hand's hurried withdrawal and the blush on Viv's cheeks but decided to say nothing for now. "Skipping Walter it's Viv's turn but first you have to drink." He handed her the bottle. Unaware of how much the others had been drinking, Viv drained it. "You must have been thirsty. Unfortunately that's the end of the beer (it wasn't but he had other plans) and we haven't even got through the first round. How about we change to Strip-Spin-The-Bottle?" With only a residual societal pressure on them, and a willingness to have some fun after the dread and dreariness of the last weeks, the girls all agreed. Walter didn't bother to reply; David held his proxy. "Okay then. Viv, please spin." Viv spun the bottle and it's rotation finally halted near enough to David for him to claim it, a little unfairly, over Beth. "You've got me." The blush was back on her cheeks. They were sprinkled attractively with a galaxy of freckles. Viv hated them, especially the larger one near the tip of her nose. Her only option was heavy-duty sun-screen and as little time outdoors as possible. As she liked her sport this was annoying and she just had to put up with it. The sport kept her frame taut, her muscles very feminine rather than resembling those of a body builder. She was used to tying back her brown hair with it's auburn highlights into a long ponytail and the neat appearance contrasted with the other girls whose hair definitely needed washing. While David didn't mind that his relatives were delayed, he did pause to wonder what was keeping them. Viv moved in and David paused. "I suppose I'd better remove an item of clothing. Shirt first." He undid most of the buttons and pulled it up over his head, leaving the cuffs the wrong way around. He had grabbed what he would normally have had to wear to school; perhaps he should find some t-shirts instead. He rested his arms on the neighbouring laps. "Would you two ladies mind helping me?" He nudged the one on his right. "What is your name?" "Brenda" "Thank you Brenda. Beth. And what is the name of our last lovely lady?" Vicki had told him he should compliment his partner but to always be sincere about it. This last young lady certainly WAS lovely. Her features were delicate and she was shorter than the others. He suspected she was a year younger and would be a very attractive woman in a few years. It was a pity there would be so very few to notice. "I'm Dale." "Hello Dale. Now Viv. Are you going to give me as big a kiss as you gave Christie?" He had resisted but the blushing cheeks looked so nice he had to tease enough to see them again. He was successful though she deigned to answer. As she leaned in David cupped her breast in much the same way as she had touched Christie but he maintained the pressure through their kiss, holding her waist with his other hand and gently probing against her lips with his tongue. When they parted she rested one hand briefly against his chest and placed the other over his where he held her youthful tit. She hadn't been offended. They sat. "Dale's turn" The youngster leaned forward and once again David assisted the player to find the bottle. Dale too got David and he discarded his shoes with an apology if it offended anyone and a complaint that between them they had this rigged. Once again Christie checked out that he wasn't cheating. When Dale came forward for her kiss David took full opportunity of her ignorance of the game so far. With an arm around her waist he cupped her ass cheek with one hand and a breast with the other. He held her against him and this time was more forceful in penetrating her mouth. She responded readily to her first serious kiss and accepted the rest of his actions as part of the "prize". It was now Brenda's turn and the ice was getting well and truly broken. Brenda spun and David declared Beth the winner. While the blonde on his right waited he put his hand back on her lap and watched as the brunette on his left unbuttoned her blouse and dropped it behind her. He gave her leg a squeeze of approval and encouragement too then gently put his finger on her lips and ran it slowly over her chin and down between her pinkly-pale orbs. He had heard of this version of "chicken" but had never had an opportunity to even try. Now neither participant gave up until the finger had reached her navel and David returned to the game. "Brenda has to kiss Beth." He put his hands in the centres of their backs and encouraged them to approach each other. They kissed directly in front of him and he put his hands on the back of their heads to indicate he wanted to see more. Their mouths widened and David could see tongue pressing against cheek as their mouths writhed together. As they withdrew their tongues trailed over each other then Brenda leaned in to give Beth a parting peck. "Well done. Can I suggest an adjournment for a while. I have a little job to do and you might be able to help me." "Okay." There was a chorus of uncertain approval. How could they help? David stood and helped those next to him to rise. The assistance travelled down both sides of the circle so Walter had two delightful young ladies to assist him. "We just have to go next door for a minute. You can leave that there." Brenda had bent to try and find her blouse. "You won't need it for now; trust me." That was the one thing they had to learn to do; to trust those who were looking after them. If the sighted WERE going to abuse that trust there was after all nothing that they could do about it. David got them into a chain and led them to the outside door. He got them to wait and addressed the room. "We are trying to get you better washing facilities and I just need to check on them. Michael and Nancy are getting some supplies like towels and shampoo and should be back soon. I am only going to be gone for a couple of minutes so if you can't find your own way please just wait and I will attend to you then." There were no urgent pleas for assistance so he led his expedition across the narrow quadrangle and into the swimming pool. "I thought you might like a swim before the others start using the pool as a bath. It should be nice enough in there; it certainly is here and I haven't got my shirt on." He led them to the side of the pool and they felt the water. It was pleasant though not overly warm and they were all eager to get in. He led them back to the side and explained the layout of the room. "What about bathers?" asked Dale. "I'm afraid bathers are probably a thing of the past. The only one who can see you is me and I already think you look fantastic in your clothes. What's the problem?" "None I suppose." David leaned forward and gently kissed her lips. Dale wanted more of what he had given her before though and this time grabbed his butt and thrust her tongue between his teeth. She melted against him when he briefly raised his hand to her breast before moving it over to undo some of her buttons. Reluctantly he let her go and addressed the others as he parted the two sides of the front of her blouse and admired her budding form. "Damn!", he wished he could skip his responsibilities for a bit longer. "Just put your clothes against the wall in separate piles and wait for me. There's a bench if it's not too cold. I just have to get something." He left them stripping, pausing just outside the doorway to watch the show for a little while before returning to the gym. "Everyone still okay? I will be popping back and forth for a little while." He addressed Walter's father. "Uncle Stan can you help me for a minute?" As Stan got up David retrieved his shirt; it was too cold for too much running around. At least it wasn't raining. David lead his uncle to the school's foyer. He had noticed there were a number of movable partitions in the foyer and on checking found some more in the staff room. "I need to set up a path in our new bathroom so people can find their way safely from pool to toilet and back. There are some partitions here we can use and I think the two of us should be able to manage before Nancy and Michael get back." "Okay. Let's have a go at least. I feel bloody useless sitting in there. At least you want me to do something." David and Stan tried a few methods of carrying the awkward screens before finding one that caused the least barked shins, stubbed toes or jammed fingers. With continuing calls of "Sorry!" on both their parts they got the first to the pool door. It was a challenge that David hadn't considered. "Hang on." He put his end down and went inside. The array of pubescent female flesh on display was heart-warming. And poor Wally had to miss it. Maybe David could help him in other ways. "Wally. We need your help here for a minute. Sorry girls I won't keep you there much longer." He led his cousin to the door and instructed him to hold it while they brought the partition inside. "Sorry to have you stand in the cold. I'll try to be quick." David lifted and started moving slowly through the doorway. Stan was surprised on colliding with his son to find him naked. What WAS going on? "You can close the door now." A shivering Walter quickly complied. "I'll drag it now, thanks. Hey girls I need your help now. Stand up and bunch together." He grabbed Wally's arm and pushed him into the mass of bodies. "Wally got cold holding the door open; can you warm him up?" The girls eagerly assisted although Viv grabbed Stan's arm by mistake and when she cuddled against him she was surprised to find him taller than she expected and clothed. "I thought you took your clothes off?" She reached further and encountered a large lump in the front of his pants. She cheekily squeezed. "Thank you, young lady," said a surprised but grateful Stan, "but I think you're looking for my son." Viv moved her hand away like it was burned but Stan had his arm around her bare back and gave her a gentle paddle on the bum. "Just don't let my wife catch you cuddling me or she might toss me out to fend for myself." "That's Viv Dad, and I don't think Mom would toss you out. You know she loves you; she kept telling you that when we went blind." David had the first screen in place by the bathroom door. If anyone had to leave the pool to use the toilet it would simply be a matter of finding the steps and keeping a hand on the partitions. He tried to stir up the freckle-face AND his uncle. "If Auntie Deb will let you cuddle someone else you could do worse than Viv. I know. She's a marvellous kisser, isn't that right Christie?" Viv was mortified. The man, still with his hand around her, Wally's father and a complete stranger (maybe that was better, she could melt away into anonymity and avoid his censure), was being told she and Christie had kissed. She could feel the heat in her cheeks. Stan felt her stiffen in his arm and protectively wrapped her with the other. "Leave her alone David. I know you like to tease but it's not fair on her." The young girl wrapped her arms around his waist. She had lost her parents, her family and almost all her friends and yet the immensity of it hadn't really sunk in. The comforting arms around her allowed her to release the pent up emotions and she burst into tears. Stan found himself having to console the naked girl who seconds before had (not so) innocently groped him. The instinctive role of masculine defender of his womenfolk came to the fore with it's release of testosterone and adrenalin. His heart beat stronger, his aggressive tendencies were heightened and, more obviously, his penis thickened and straightened. He didn't notice at first nor did Vivienne. David, ashamed that his actions had brought about the girl's teary breakdown could only apologise. When Viv shook her head he initially thought she refused to accept it but finally came to understand she meant it wasn't his comments that were the cause, just the trigger. Since his uncle was coping with her for now, David moved the remaining people over to the edge of the pool and showed them the ladder. "It's shallow enough that no- one's going to drown if they can't swim though if you go under you might not know which way is up straight away, so no horse play!" "Yes Daddy!" Beth was giving him cheek. "Don't forget you're not too big to put over my knee." "Oh promises, promises. Well I've got Wally to protect me." She took Walter's arm and draped it protectively around her shoulder. His fingertips brushed across her breast as she put her arm around his waist. Marnie on the other side said, "He has to protect me too." Moving in against him she felt his arm around Beth and snuggled under the other one. Her nude form was a pleasure for David to see and he hoped he got a share of it as well. He wasn't really fixated on melon sized tits but his past reading material was heavily biased in that direction and so Marnie was his ideal pin up girl. David positioned two rolls of floats at the end of the pool and dropped the ends into the water beside the six young people. "Instead of protecting you, and I think you should worry more about being protected FROM him, how about you see (Damn! old terms were no longer 'PC') if you can get these hooked up at the other end." It wasn't just make work; It would be useful when the others were herded over here and if they succeeded on their own their confidence should get a well needed boost. Leaving them to their own efforts, David turned back to the recovering Vivienne and noticed the tent in his uncle's trousers. "There is a bench over here. I think it might be best if Viv sits with you for a while." He eased them over to the seat and as Viv sat down he whispered in Stan's ear, "I don't see anything or say anything. Okay?" He liked his uncle, and his aunt for that matter, and wasn't going to pass judgement on them either way. If Viv needed help and Stan was giving it to her and things went perhaps a bit too "far", David was not going to interfere. David figured if he had taken Viv as one of his "women" she would have been considered "old enough". If Viv considered Stan suitable then he was "young enough". How Stan and his wife Deb dealt with it was their business but, even without an appreciation of the term, David knew polygamy had been made the order of the day. David knew that Stan wasn't supposed to get anyone but Deb pregnant but they might not go that far, at least for now, and HE couldn't see why the rules couldn't apply to Stan and Walter. Quietly of course. He didn't want that dickhead Graham finding out and trying to join in. He left them there and went back briefly to the gym before noisily dragging the next partition across the cold asphalt by himself. He left it outside the door and looked through the condensation on the glass to see Stan still had his arm around the naked girl. In the otherwise eerie stillness David heard the car pull up and went over to help the pair unload. He found Nancy a little distraught; Michael's face was pale and covered in blood. ***** David was assured that it looked much worse than it was though Michael WAS a little dizzy. He had a scalp wound that had bled profusely, as scalp wounds do, and that had left him looking like a bombing victim. He hadn't apparently been concussed, the dizziness being brought about by the shock. Once Nancy and David had gotten him onto the lounge though, SHE had to rush off to the bathroom, attempting to hold back the repeated urge to retch until she was over the porcelain bowl. Satisfied Michael wasn't going to croak, David went over to the women who had been gathered from the hospital. "Excuse me please! I need to know which of you can help with an emergency. Please raise your hand. We have a head wound; he's been bleeding but is conscious and can walk with assistance." There were four hands immediately up and one waverer. David grabbed the closest one, "Thank you." He led her through the mattresses to his brother. "Here he is; what do you need to know?" "What happened?" "I don't know. Can you talk Michael?" "Y-e-a-h. We had just finished loading the car at the hotel and had gone into the kitchen to see if there was anything worth getting. Someone jumped out and swung a knife at me. He was off and I ducked out of the way but he caught me on the back-swing." A number of people were gathered nearby listening. Roaming a silent city didn't seem such an easy job after all. Realising their dependence on the few people who had rescued them, some now became fearful that accidents could make that number fewer. "I had the advantage of being able to see what he was doing but he went mad and we just had to keep retreating. Stupidly I'd left the gun in the car. I won't do that again! Nancy went to get it but I tried to calm him down. I didn't get anywhere and he followed my voice. I retreated again but he had me trapped and I was using a skillet to block him when the blood got in my eyes. I was wiping my face and would have missed his next stab. Nancy shot him!" His simple statement explained her reaction, delayed until he was safe and her mind could then think of what she had done. "See she's okay Dave. I'll be alright for a while." David headed off to the bathroom. Nancy had finished in the cubicle and was rinsing the bitter acid from her mouth. She was shaking and sobbing and David took his older cousin in his arms and held her against his shorter body. "Hey. You're a hero you know. You saved Michael's life. It's alright. You did what you had to do and he's going to be alright." Though smart enough, David at 14 realised he was out of his depth. He could be reassuring, he could hold her, he could tell her how brave she had been. But what was best for a young woman who had just had to kill a man? "It wasn't just that so much", she got out through heaving sobs. "I had to do it and there wasn't time to think but when I was helping Michael up I saw inside the open freezer where he had been standing. He had piles of bodies and there was an arm on the counter. He was cooking them!" "I wanted to be sick then", she continued, "but Michael almost fainted and I had trouble holding him up. I don't know how we got into the car but I'm glad there was no traffic around." "Come on then. Michael might need some help. I got one of the doctors and she will need us." David figured that having something to do would be better for Nancy than dwelling on a cannibalistic cook. "Thanks Nance! I owe you one. Big time." Michael had a little more colour but was still covered in his now drying blood. The doctor had been gently feeling around the tender area and took control. "Michael has just had a bit of a shock. It might be good if you could make some coffee and from what he has said the young lady probably could use a cup too. I need you to wash the blood away carefully and you should boil some clean water and let it cool so if ..., Nancy is it?, can put a kettle on I want David to do a couple of other things for me." Nancy took herself off to the kitchen, collecting Fran and Paul on the way. She needed to talk to someone and after the previous night they were the obvious ones. The doctor addressed David. "The scalp wound isn't serious but the knife lifted a flap of skin and we need to stitch that back into place. This probably won't be the last time someone needs help so you should probably get a good supply. The hospital is going to be the easiest place since we have plenty of people who know where to find things. There's no need for you to drive like crazy,... Oh! You can drive can't you?" David assured her that, while he probably wouldn't have managed in heavy traffic, he had learned enough to keep one on the road safely. "Okay then. Ask for Janice or Anne-Marie where I was sitting. They are nurses and either should be able to help you. I think its better for Nancy to stay here for now. Can you get Dr Riggs as well. I think she should have a little talk with Nancy too." David tracked down all three medical staff and led them back to Michael and the other doctor. Anne-Marie volunteered to go with David and the first Doctor, who they finally found was called Georgina ("Just call me 'Georgie'"), decided to make use of Janice's skills herself. They may have lost their sight but the ingrained hierarchical standards still made themselves felt. Georgie told Anne-Marie a couple of specific things she wanted and then suggested a few others. David grabbed a few empty cartons that had previously held cans of Irish Stew and headed towards the car park. The keys were still in the station wagon and David decided that would be more useful anyway. He put the cartons on the front seat and then spent the next few minutes carrying armloads of luxurious bathrobes back and forth. This reminded him that he had left the others in the pool. He grabbed an assortment of robes and headed to the pool. "Everyone all right? Sorry I was so long but my brother Michael was injured - he's going to be alright but I have to go out for a while. You can stay here if you like or come back to the gym. I've got some robes here you can wear." The consensus was to remain. They were getting on well together, Stan having joined them in the pool. Aunt Deb might be a bit surprised if she found her husband and son cavorting naked with half a dozen nymphettes! He got Walter to hold open the door again (noting the erection as his embarrassed cousin got out of the pool) and dragged the last two partitions into position. At least that job was done. If only he had had time to put the others up as a walkway between the buildings; the women could have organised their bathing themselves then. He rushed back to the Gym. So much had happened and it was only just after his normal breakfast time. He grabbed Anne-Marie literally, but nicely, and let Nancy know about those in the pool. He explained what he had done, and had planned to do, and took the young nurse to help carry some more cartons. She was pretty, just 19 and only recently rotated to the Casualty department. It was a chance for the young ones to decide whether they were treating nursing as a vocation or just a job and Anne-Marie had impressed Georgie with her good sense, a willingness to follow orders and the much desired ability to learn from other people's mistakes so she made few of her own. She was unaware of the young age of the "man" sitting in the driver's seat. He had been given a number of responsible tasks by those who were obviously older; they hadn't talked down to him and Anne-Marie didn't realise that they weren't aware of his youth either. He "sounded" nice; he was concerned about his brother and had been comforting to his cousin. When the shit had hit the fan he had sensibly sought the most qualified to provide assistance and hadn't panicked. When he had sought her assistance he had been polite and had helped her into the car, very much the gentleman. He hadn't said a lot when they were driving over. She didn't realise that it was because he was being extremely careful. Without the outside visual cues, his sedate 50 kilometres per hour (30MPH) seemed much faster. She thought it may have been due to his concern for the others or simply that he had to concentrate on obstacles she wasn't aware of, so she too remained quiet until they pulled up. David got out and retrieved two boxes from the back seat. He went around to Anne-Marie's side where she stood waiting and put her hand on one of them. "Would you carry this please. If you hold my hand you can tell me where to go. I'll warn you of any problems." He took her delicate hand and looked closer at her even more delicate features. Her cheeks really could be described as "peaches and cream"; there was an almost invisible fine downy coating that reminded him of the fuzz on a peach and the pale colour certainly was creamy. "Are we going?" David returned to the present. "Sorry. It's just you are so beautiful." Vicki probably hadn't intended him to be so conscientious about his homework but at least he had paid attention in "class". He reached out a hand and stroked his knuckle across the downy surface. Anne-Marie shivered at his touch. "How old are you?" he asked. "Nineteen." She had always felt her nose too narrow, a cruel classmate had once warned her that she would put somebody's eye out when she kissed him, but David felt the "flaw" added to allure. "Really? You seem far more mature." David had though she might be as old as 21. 19 seemed much more approachable. "Thank you. Shouldn't we get the things your brother needs?" "An excellent suggestion." David rewarded her with a kiss where his knuckle had rested, then brushed his lips against hers. She shivered again. As he leaned down to pick up the box he pumped his fist in the air. Getting to know girls and women was F-U-N! Anne-Marie gave him instructions on where to go and they attempted to enter the building. "Oh Oh!" The doors wouldn't open. "Are their any doors that aren't automatic?" "Around the back but they only open outwards." "Okay. Oh well I don't suppose it matters. Stand over here for a minute." Anne-Marie stood where she was told and waited. She heard the car start and then come closer. There was a loud bang and the sound of falling glass. Seconds later it was repeated as the inner doors were "opened" as well. The car backed away and David returned. "That was great. I didn't want to go too fast, just enough to break the class. It just shattered into a million little cubes. Come on then. Just watch out, the first steps are a little crunchy." He helped her over the mess and they finally started the job they had been sent to do. There was an awful smell that fortunately wasn't strong enough to cause them to do more than screw up their noses. It smelt like a dirty toilet and David was eager to get out of there. Anne-Marie agreed and started telling him where to find the various items. Local anaesthetic, syringes, needles, antiseptic, gloves, bandages, sutures, antibiotics. Anything they could grab quickly that would be useful. David left her sitting on a chair by the store room as he repeatedly exchanged full box for empty. With the car filled David excused himself, "I just need to investigate that smell. It might be something we need to know about. Wait here I'll be right back." Anne-Marie wasn't too happy being left alone. To be taken into an uncertain situation was preferable to being left to imagine all sorts of not-so-impossible things. "Take me with you please. I don't want to be here alone." David helped her stand and this time put an arm around her waist rather than just holding hands. She put hers around his back and they headed into the hospital proper. The fetid stench grew as they passed through the door and walked down the corridor. David looked into one of the rooms and saw why. He checked a couple more and decided that they didn't need to look further. The bodies hadn't reached a state of decomposition to make the air noxious but the excrement did. If the situation was the same throughout the hospital it wouldn't be pleasant to return for some time. He would have to let his father know. "Come on. We don't need to go any further." "What is it?" "Let's just say they won't be in any more pain." The nurse was confused. "But they wouldn't have died so soon. What could have happened?" "I don't know. Let's get back to the school." He hurried her down to the car and helped her in. He sat there for a while before starting the car. It hit him that Nancy's experience wasn't the only bad thing that they were likely to encounter. He needed some normalcy in a world that had gone crazy. It was too soon and too much had happened. "I'm sorry", he said, "it just freaks me out a little. Can you talk to me? Just tell me about yourself. Anything. What do you like to do?" He started the car while she thought of a topic and listened to her as he drove. From time to time he would ask a question and she would explain further. Sometimes the memories hurt but talking through them also released some of the tensions she had been feeling. She was feeling better about herself and was finding the man next to her to be sensitive, actually listening to what she had said, and caring in his responses. She was beginning to find him very attractive and wished she had met him earlier when she could have seen what he looked like. They pulled up at the school and once again David came around to her door. She didn't need his help getting out but appreciated that he was there to guide her as soon as she had closed the door behind. "Let me just get the box with the main supplies and we can worry about the others later." "Hang on." Anne-Marie felt for him. He turned and she hugged him. "Thank you for being nice. I liked it, and you. When you are thinking about who you want, well, perhaps you could think of me?" She gave him a kiss, intending to plant it on his cheek but he anticipated her and made sure their lips touched. It wasn't passion raising but he didn't break away immediately either. Enough to let her know that he found her attractive and to give an unspoken promise that he would do just that. He recovered the box and put her hand at the back of his pants. "Just hang onto my belt. I need both hands. It's only a few steps." Anne-Marie interpreted his instructions in her own way and she wrapped her arms around him holding onto the front of his belt with both hands. It was a bit awkward goose-stepping across the school- grounds but it made David laugh and he enjoyed the feel of the firm breasts that were pressed into his back. Michael greeted them looking a little healthier. He was sitting bare-chested with the other nurse sitting inside his arm, her hand tweaking the light coating of dark hair spread over his pectorals. David left the box by Michael's feet and took Anne- Marie's hands and helped her to a separate seat. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, marking his territory in front of his brother, and said "Thank you for your help." Anne-Marie squeezed his hand and sat back to patiently await whatever was coming. Georgie said, "Good. Now how is your stomach?" David was uncertain what she meant. Michael explained for the doctor. "Someone has to put the stitches in and the sooner the better. Until the others get back that leaves you and Nancy and I'm afraid she has already declined rather fervently. Now's your chance to really stick it to your big brother. How about it?" David didn't really feel he had much choice. He hadn't minded biology lab. Rats and frogs weren't a problem and he had had to dress rabbits once when he went hunting with a friend and his father. Working on a person would just be different; on his own brother only a little worse. He thought he would manage if only told what to do in a way he understood. "Okay. I'll do it." He didn't consciously think of how it would look to Anne- Marie if he defaulted but he did notice her widening smile. "Hmm", he thought, "Maybe she really does like me." The doctor was giving him instructions. He had to scrub up and then disinfect the wound. He needed to carefully trim the hair away and then he had to give his brother some local anaesthetic. They would have to trust him to carry out their instructions to the letter. David appreciated the serious responsibility he faced and started carrying out his duties while Janice proceeded to distract and comfort the patient in ways that would certainly have been frowned upon in the Casualty Department. David was squeamish as he poked the needle into the skin on the top of his brother's head. It only had to break the surface since there was little covering the bone. He repeated it along the wound, following the doctor's instructions to put a little in at each place and then put the instruments on the tray on Anne-Marie's lap. He opened the suture packet and watched as the doctor demonstrated on the arm of the lounge. She could probably have done the job blind (blindfolds were now optional) but if she was here to pass on her knowledge there was no excuse not to start as soon as possible. Michael wouldn't suffer more than a slight mismatching of the edges and noticeable side part in his hair but looks weren't going to count for anything any more. David found the job easier than he had expected, though he had to get the doctor to repeat her demonstration of that special twist to grip and tie the knot with the forceps. At least Michael wasn't wincing as he had when the anaesthetic was injected. David wondered if that was because his head was being carefully restrained against Janice's bosom. No? He finished up and the doctor carefully ran her hand over his work. "Excellent. Janice can bandage it to keep it clean. We might make a surgeon of you. How steady are your hands?" "Normally okay but not right now. I just hope that we don't need a surgeon." "I certainly agree that it would be better if we don't right now but don't forget we are going to have a lot of pregnant women and I for one would like to know there is someone competent to look after me. Think about it." David hadn't considered that aspect. There really should be at least a couple of them trained for childbirth and accidents. He hadn't considered medicine as a career but maybe it was now both possible and necessary. While he wouldn't have to study for umpteen years to get his qualifications he realised that he probably would have to face a life-long apprenticeship instead. "I will." The doctor heard the sincerity and interest in his voice. His answer hadn't been immediate so he had obviously had treated it seriously. That was good. "I'll just get rid of these and get cleaned up. Is there anything more?" "I think you and your brother could use a coffee. It would be better to stay away from spirits or anything like that." David wasn't quite sure about the protocol of serving coffee to half a dozen people without getting some for all the others but decided he had earned it and it wouldn't hurt them to wait. He checked how the others liked theirs. A few people were using the ropes to go to the toilet and had learned enough to move around to find their friends. David went over to where his mother was sitting with his relatives. Someone had had the idea to stack the mattresses three or four deep when not being used for sleeping which made it possible to sit up more comfortably. The idea had earned some brownie points for the person proposing it and had rapidly spread through the room. "Hi Mum." "Hello David. What's been going on. There was a story that some one was hurt but it travelled around the room one way and ended up Nancy had been shot and from the other direction we heard Michael had been stabbed." "Michael got attacked but he's alright now. Nancy saved him and got him back here but it was only a little slice to his scalp and I've stitched it up." "You stitched him up?!?" "Yes. And you thought I would never amount to any thing. How do you feel about a doctor in the family?", he teased. Joanna was just pleased one son was alright and that the other son was coping with the problems arising when his father and the other adults were gone. "I'm proud of you son. Just keep doing what you have to like that and we'll cope." David excused himself and went to find both his cousin and some coffee. Nancy had been busy while he was gone. She had managed to get the other partitions and had most of a corridor set up between the gym and the pool. A few chairs formed a makeshift wall where a partition was missing. He found her in the kitchen making enough coffee for them all. Lunchtime was coming up and they would probably welcome it. He wondered where the scavenging parties had gotten to. There was food available but he had hoped for something other than Irish stew. Nancy came over and gave him a big hug. "I looked in and saw you were looking after Michael. I just couldn't look at his head without thinking about..." David hugged her back. He hadn't really had much physical contact with her in the past and it felt nice to hold her. There wasn't a sense of sexuality, Vicki and Anne-Marie had felt THAT way, but rather a happiness in being able to soothe someone's cares. "That's okay. I saw some things while we were out that makes me understand how you must feel. Michael will be alright thanks to you and you don't have to worry about him. I think he might have his own personal nurse." She released him and grabbed a tissue from her sleeve to have a good blow. When he explained what he wanted she told him she would bring them and asked him to check on the pool. She had looked in on them and they had seemed to be having fun together, even Uncle Stan! That had surprised her and she hadn't said anything to them but they probably were looking like prunes now and might want to come back to the gym. David left her and went to the pool. He opened the door quietly and found things were a bit more sedate than Nancy had suggested. They had gotten out of the water and found the bathrobes though none of them had bothered to tie the fronts. That made sense since most of them were occupying their time with a touch here and there and the robes would have only complicated that further. Beth and Marnie had retained their control over Walter though Dale was apparently permitted to share him as well. Viv was sitting on Stan's lap while Christie lay her head on Viv's leg. The surprising part was that Dale had sat her young twat fair on Walter's face and he was proceeding to eat her under the unseeing guidance of his father. David, who had experience his own sex education class the previous night began to wish Michael's emergency hadn't taken him away from what appeared to be the practical session for the advanced class. "Hi" said David maliciously. Everyone started. "No, it's all right. Just David. I was checking to see if you wanted to come back but it seems obvious you are happy just here." Stan was a little abashed. The conversation had begun about the unfairness that Walter and, implied rather than stated, Stan were not allowed the "freedom" that the other men had. Stan had pointed out that he was happily married, as he continued to cuddle the nymphette who had attached herself to him, but there were other ways for Walter to give and receive pleasure without the risk of sex. One thing led to another and he found himself either having to refuse to discuss anything further or to provide instruction in what had turned into an active practical session. He guiltily admitted to himself that the small hand that brushed "accidentally" from time to time over his erect penis did influence his decision. "You will let us know when the others get back?" David knew which particular "other" his uncle meant. "Will do. See you later." He certainly wanted to see some of them but also wanted to see Anne-Marie. There just weren't enough hours in the day. ----- As David left, Anne-Marie addressed Michael. "Your brother seems really nice. Does he have a girlfriend?" Michael started which surprised Janice but fortunately Anne-Marie couldn't see his reaction. "No. No, I don't think so. He's been more tied up in his studies." "Oh. University? What was he studying?" "I don't know the name", Michael prevaricated, "but it looks like he might have an interest in Medicine now." How old did she think David was? Janice was confused. "I thought you said you were 17? How come he called you his 'big brother'?" Michael thought quickly. He didn't really want to deceive the young nurses but couldn't help have a bit of fun and if they thought David was capable enough to be older it wouldn't hurt. "It's a joke I suppose. I'm taller than him." That at least was true. He added his own query, "So you like him?" "He seems like a real gentleman. He could have been a jerk but he was nice to me and polite. Yes, I like him." "That's good. I think he likes you too." Anne-Marie looked down slightly embarrassed. She was happy but didn't really like her feelings being quite so publicly discussed. Michael thought he should have a few words with David and probably the others. It wouldn't hurt if he skipped a couple of birthdays. He might have thought differently had he known about the game of spin the bottle. ***************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Doppelganger Part: Chapter 9 of 31 Summary: Justin was born with a little extra - a set of female sex organs - but that was just the beginning. Keywords: ff, f-solo, mf, oral, rom Language: English Copyright: 2005 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* INTRODUCTION Justin Rogers was born around 16 years ago with something special - a complete functional set of female sex organs. Just recently he had found they don't really belong to him but to his twin sister Tina who spent much of her early life sharing his body. From time to time she was able to visit as a distinct person but some survival instinct made her merge with him again before she was discovered. Now they have met properly and, sharing memories and experiences whenever they are merged (or "together" as opposed to being "with each other" as separate people), they have a similar outlook to many matters including their sexual awakening. ********************************************************* WEEK 7 ====== It was an opportunity they couldn't afford to miss - a $500 first prize. Promised shares in the profits if they won, with Justin and Tina providing the initial outlay, their friends Katie and Tyler only risked embarrassment. After being assured that their role was mainly to distract by simply looking beautiful ("An easy task for you two") they agreed to take part and were willing to help get things organised. Flattery, and money, will get you anywhere, sometimes. Justin and Tina had gone over what they wanted to do and had made several revisions before they were happy. Tina's costume was an important part of their act; she needed something she could quickly get into, and hide. Getting out of it quickly would NOT be an issue. She talked it over with the other girls - they would have to wear matching outfits too. They, a consensus of all four, decided to copy Barbara Eden's harem costume with a simple slip over breast band and pantaloons with a built in gusset; a scarf in their hair could be held as a veil to complete the effect. Tyler's mother, Megan, turned out to be a whiz with a sewing machine and was willing to design the outfits to Tina's specification PROVIDED the three girls learned how to make them under her direction. It was actually fun to get together somewhere other than Katie's basement and to do something new. Mal was also prepared to help his son in his endeavour, though he wasn't sure where Justin got the idea he was a magician. Still it only involved attaching a few sheets of plywood to some frameworks and a couple of coats of paint; they had it ready in an afternoon once they had collected the materials. ----- The two girls walked home with Justin after school for their first run through. Bernie greeted them and they accepted her offer of a drink before moving out to the garage with Tina. Justin showed them how the "magic cabinets" could easily be assembled by joining the four flat sides to base and ceiling. A matched pair, there were small hand holds that allowed them to be easily lifted and a flap near the top of one panel which allowed access to a hook. The third cabinet was constructed somewhat differently. It was made up of half a dozen open-ended boxes painted in different colours that stacked one on top of another to form a rainbow. Plywood panels could be slotted into groves at the top and bottom of each section so the contents couldn't be seen when the column was disassembled. Justin gave them a run through of what to expect but refused, despite several suggestive bribes, to reveal how the tricks were to be accomplished. "A good magician never reveals his secrets." At least not THIS one! Katie and Tyler had come up with some ideas how they should move around on stage and promised to get their dance teacher to go through their routine and help them polish it up. ----- "Your black trousers are 'okay' but you don't look the part of a magician; you need more pizzazz. If we are wearing harem outfits, why don't you follow the theme?" Katie had Tyler's agreement that something had to be done. "I haven't got the physique to look like some guard from Aladdin." Tyler responded, "Well we know you're not going to qualify as a eunuch." "How about a sleeveless vest with a bit of artificial suntan over your white belly? Then you can have pantaloons like us, a bit more macho perhaps - white cotton or linen rather than silks, and see if we can get some curly-toed slippers. And we need some mood music - our dance teacher suggested "Scheherezade." They had cornered him at school and the only advantage he had was that the numbers, for now, weren't stacked against him 3:1. He knew Tina would side with them; hell HE knew they were right but it didn't make it more pleasant for him. He could just imagine the ribbing he was in for once the other boys at school saw or heard about the costume he was going to have to wear. "Mum said it's okay for you to come over tonight to get started on your costume. We don't have much time left you know." "Okay Tyler. I'll have to go home first but I should be able to come around straight away." "You can stay for dinner if you want; Tina can come over too. Do you want to come Katie?" "I can't tonight. Sorry." "I'd better call home now then. Okay I'll see you later." He shook his head, wondering if it was going to be worth it and whether they could in fact win, and checked in his pocket for change for the phone. ----- "Hello Justin. Nice to meet you at last. Tyler has told me some nice things about you." Tyler did the schoolgirl "Oh Mum!" routine which Justin tried to ignore. "Thank you for helping us out Mrs Waters." "You might not thank me when you're finished. Did the girls tell you my condition?" "That you only help? I have to make my costume myself." "That's right. Shall we get started while Tyler gets dinner ready?" "I'll help her", offered Tina. "Okay, though she doesn't really have a lot to do. Still it will keep you out of our hair, won't it Justin?" "Yes." Megan was surprised once they had started. She took his measurements and passed him the pattern she had prepared for his jacket. It was marked for several sizes since she wasn't sure how big he was. She pointed out the line he would have to follow and showed him the fabric she had obtained on her daughter's authorisation; Tyler and Katie KNEW he would have to agree with them. The phone rang for her and she excused herself, telling him not to start cutting yet. The call ended up lasting far longer than Megan wanted but it was important and she and the other woman had been playing phone tag for two days; she couldn't afford to just say "I'll ring you back." Megan couldn't believe it when she returned to find he had correctly traced the pattern and cut out the correct pieces, doubled the material, aligned and pinned it to his tracings AND threaded up the sewing machine with the correct colour thread. She knew the other girls were in the kitchen so he couldn't have had their help. "So you've done this before?" "No." Justin couldn't say he had "heard" her previous instruction to his sister (or rather his supposed cousin) Tina when she had merged with him after her earlier visit to Megan Water's house. Perhaps he should have waited to be shown; it just seemed silly to sit around when he could be getting on with the job. "Well you've done very well then." Maybe they had made the instructions in the plans and the machine's operation more idiot-proof (with no offence intended to Justin) than she had thought but, regardless, he had done well. She double-checked how he had set out the material and found no fault with it. "Okay we need to cut out each of the separate pieces and then we'll put them all together." She watched him carefully, ready to stop him if he was going to make a mistake but as he progressed she simply sat and watched, making the occasional comment in order to feel she was contributing rather than from actual need. He used the shears correctly, cutting with the fabric close to the fulcrum; he made the appropriate diversions to leave alignment marks and when he had finished he transferred the pattern to the material to be used for lining the jacket and proceeded to cut that out as well. He wasn't a skilled dressmaker by any means but he had done as well as any of the three girls, and with only minimal intervention on her part. They broke to eat and Tyler showed him to the bathroom to wash up, and to engage in a little lip lock while they were alone. He fondled her plump juicy breasts (they were having chicken weren't they?) as she kneaded his rump (or was it steak?) until they both broke apart gasping for air (maybe fish?). He was only happy she had left his penis alone; they were having spaghetti and while he wouldn't have complained of having a longer noodle, he certainly didn't want one that narrow. "I hope Tina been keeping you from getting bored." "I think it's Mum that stopped me getting bored - if she wasn't here you could have used your beautiful tongue to drill me." "I'll keep your mother busy after dinner and you and Tina can bore each other to death if you want." "Thank you, you're a dear. I'd better go." He released her with another quick kiss and a tap on her ample departing derriere before turning on the water and reaching for the soap. ----- "Thank you Mrs Waters, that was delicious." She would have liked to have added "Like your daughter" but thought that might not have gone down quite as well. "Thank you Tina; I hope you had enough - and you Justin?" Both had taken rather small serves and she hoped they weren't going hungry out of a false sense of good manners. "Plenty Mrs Waters. It was lovely. Thank you." "Would you girls mind clearing up while we finish off Justin's costume?" "No trouble Mum. Then we'll do a bit of quiet study together." "Thanks dear. Come on Justin." Since Tyler knew where the dried dishes had to go, Tina washed while she wiped. Tyler's dad hadn't been on the scene for quite a while and she was an only child so there were never all that many dishes anyway. It was only a matter of minutes before Tyler was running quietly down the corridor to her bedroom pulling Tina by the hand. Tyler threw a couple of textbooks onto her bed, the first she could lay her hands on, then turned to lay her hands on an equally eager Tina. As she pushed the door shut with her foot, she met Tina's lips for a passion-building kiss. For what seemed absolute ages they stood there, simply hugging each other while their lips brushed over the other's - sometimes softly sucking or nibbling, sometimes bruising and brutal; while their tongues dipped back and forth; and while their soft young breasts heaved together as they strove to draw air while constrained by tightly encircling arms. There was so much they WANTED to do; there was so much they could not risk doing. Justin WAS going to try to keep Tyler's mother occupied but she could decide at any minute there was something she needed Tyler for - and she might not just call out. Now that they had progressed further than a kiss and a fondle, even Katie's basement was a riskier proposition for them all unless one or two of them provided a diversion that left the others free to have fun of a more unrestrained type. But they also wanted to witness each other's pleasure; they all seemed to share the same voyeuristic and exhibitionistic tendencies that made their loving more lusty. THEY WANTED SOME GUARANTEED PRIVACY! Taking what they could get, hands fumbled down waistbands and up shirt fronts. The two young ladies couldn't strip, couldn't really even get rid of their underwear and unfortunately both were wearing jeans instead of their normally "more functional" skirts. Allowances were made and the top stud of each pair of jeans was opened. Since, in each case, it had popped of its own accord as a wriggling hand tried to travel around a furry corner there was no point trying to keep them closed anyway. Tyler also lifted Tina's bra out, up, and over her petite breasts but was unable to have Tina do the same for her. Should Megan come in to the bedroom, Tyler's prominent nipples - the size of small acorns and of similar hardness when she was aroused - would be impossible to disguise; Tina could at least just lean forwards and her relatively looser top would hide any indiscretions. Since Tina's tits WERE uncovered Tyler raised the top and bent to take a nipple between her lips. She stroked her fingers through the soft lips trapped inside Tina's jeans and, when Tina responded in kind, unconsciously jiggled her hips to increase the sweet touch. Tina found herself wondering, once again, how she could have ended up so lucky. Since "coming out" - which was a real joke considering she and Justin had MORE to hide than less since she had emerged on a more permanent basis - Tina had been swept into one lust-filled encounter after another. She might have suspected it was all Justin's fault - that she had been influenced by fifteen shared years of maleness - had it not been for the similar hedonistic attitudes of Tyler and Katie. That his appreciation of the female form HAD been passed on to her was undeniable; that other girls would have a similar appreciation WITHOUT his tutorage was a welcome revelation; that they could all share the giving and receiving of pleasure a bonus that they were ALL thankful for. And she was certainly thankful for the pleasure she was currently receiving. With the help of her three friends, Tina had been having orgasms, or at least reaching the pleasant state that almost achieved that condition, on a regular basis. Tyler had been experiencing them regularly as well though most of the time it was at her own hand. Prior to their involvement with Tina and Justin, Tyler had met up with Katie every other Friday or perhaps Saturday night for something "special" though they HAD spent time together for other reasons. That left somewhere between 13 and 15 nights of nothing between the good times. It was a situation of long droughts and quick floods; and the meetings, like that between Tina and Tyler now, were certainly flooded. Tyler and Katie had acted much as Tyler and Tina were now; a bit of kissing and cuddling, some fondling and sucking of breasts and, once they had become more comfortable with the intimate contact with each other's body, some furious finger fucking. They had been friends having fun rather than loving lesbians and had slowly worked up to a level of petting they were comfortable with. Tina's arrival in their midst, and Justin's subsequent inclusion, had released all brakes and made them all uncomfortable in the nicest possible ways. Tyler could appreciate the difference as she came in the "old fashioned" way, all the while wishing she could be burying her face where her fingers were making Tina come and wishing she could similarly feel Tina's tongue cleaning out the juices from her own sweet pussy. ----- Katie had had to go out with her parents and brother to see an uncle (her father's older brother) in hospital. They had stayed about an hour and then the four of them had dinner at an inexpensive yet reasonable restaurant. It wasn't an unpleasant evening - the uncle wasn't seriously ill and was going to be released the next morning - and the meal was delicious if simple, but it was nowhere near as delicious as her young friends. Unable to avoid thinking about them, Katie played with her food. She placed a forkful into her mouth and, noticing the firmness of the insufficiently roasted potato, she ran her tongue over the curved surface. It wasn't a match for Justin's knob in shape, except for that curve, but if filled her mouth in much the same manner. Katie put her hand in front of her mouth as she supposedly chewed a mouthful that was a little too big. Instead she surreptitiously sucked and released it while licking all around it. With her eyes closed she could imagine she was sucking on Justin, an unusual roast- flavoured Justin but still... Until she bit the potato in half. There was no shouting or painful screams. She opened her eyes again, grateful that the knob retained its undamaged existence in real life. She surveyed her plate for the next instalment in her fantasy and looked longingly at another diner's grilled sausages. ----- Justin and Megan were getting on better than he had expected. His relationship with his own mother was okay, but it was as mother and son. He could appreciate how Tina seemed to relate to her in a more casual manner but that depended more on their mother's attitude to her "prodigal" daughter. Justin also hadn't spent much time with any of his mates' mothers, at least when his mates hadn't been around too. On those occasions the women had all acted like mothers as well, with their conversation being directed from parent to child regardless of the ages of the youths. Megan was different. Well she probably wasn't really. She was a little younger than his own mother but not enough to make a serious difference to someone approaching sixteen. She was good looking enough, an older version of Tyler with a few significant differences, but that wasn't what made it easy to get on with her. Okay it didn't hurt. If she had been some old ex-hooker with skin wrinkled and stained by years of chain smoking, with peroxide blonde hair and black roots, and with a boozy breath and a tendency to grope his leg it probably wouldn't have been as easy. But the fact that Justin found his eyes continually drifting to a chest that Tyler had inherited in full measure was both a pleasure and an inconvenience. He didn't want Megan to think he was just a hormonally- driven male (he knew he was - he just didn't want HER to think that); he would prefer that she didn't consider that at all in view of the fact that he was seriously trying to work out how he could screw her daughter in six different ways before breakfast. But they were nice to look at. Megan found her temporary companion equally refreshing. Not many boys his age would have succumbed to the requirement to learn a little dressmaking in return for a costume that would do little to promote a macho image. Yet he could reasonably discuss any of the diverse topics that the conversation had drifted around and over while they worked. And it hadn't hurt her self-esteem to notice the furtive glances at her body. Neither of them might be interested in a sexual liaison - of a transient or a significant nature - with the other but Megan preferred she was politely appreciated to being studiously ignored. The costume rapidly took form. ----- Katie rapidly headed into the bathroom when they arrived home and barely got wet as she showered before changing into her PJs and saying goodnight. "I've got some reading to do and then I think I'll have an early night. See you in the morning." As she returned to her room Katie picked up a couple of items she felt she might need while she studied. --- Justin's hardness eased into her virgin cunt. He was going to fuck her, to make a woman of her. THAT thought made her laugh. Why was getting a hard chunk of flesh pushed into you a measure of adulthood? Would she have been less of a woman if she had stayed fooling with Tyler? (Although, now she had been introduced to rug munching she certainly felt more alive during their Sapphic encounters.) "Damn!" she though, "That broke the mood. Now I'll have to start all over." Katie pulled the carrot from her body. As indicated in her little fantasy, her hole had not yet felt a male member, though there had been one or two (she hadn't really been counting - okay maybe sixteen or so if you wanted to treat each distinct digit separately) fingers and thumbs, male and female, feeling around in there. The condom-coated carrot, serving both as a basis for practising the "Rubber Rollout" and for giving her a clue what to expect if she ever actually got Justin to take her cherry, waited with infinite patience for her to rewind her mental images so she could pick up the story line when it was reasonable for the carrot to transform into Justin's penis once again. She had started with the narrow end. It was similar to the tapering penis she had once witnessed on a dog. She shunned that idea for the image of a loving young man and was ready to reverse the carrot for a more reasonable comparison with Justin's appendage once she knew she could handle it. The carrot was worked back and forth, Katie taking a little spell every few strokes lest she come too soon. It was okay but not great and Katie regretfully pulled it from her body so she could change the condom to the other end - perhaps that would be better. She had sliced the greenery from the top so that end was the blunt base of a cone rather than the pointy top. It needed a little effort to work it past the entrance to her vagina but, once inside, it was easy to manipulate. She worked it in and out, in and out, getting nothing but pleasure from the object inside her and the brushing contact of her fingers through the juices leaking from her body. A couple of firm bananas had gone missing from the kitchen as well and Katie let the carrot rest inside her for a little while as she partially peeled the banana. Katie might only be playing at fucking, checking out what if felt like to have something "Justin-sized" inside her before she took the big step of checking out what it felt like to have something "Justin" inside her, but she had at least some experience of fellatio. Enough experience to know she lacked adequate experience. That is why she now worked the banana back and forth between her lips while resuming the gentle carroty thrusts. The flavour was no more reminiscent of Justin than the food had been at dinner but at least the shape and size was familiar. The banana was more pistol-shaped than an even curve and Katie held the skin-covered grip while her tongue massaged the barrel as the pale yellow fruit moved past her lips. Katie found herself synchronising her hand movements which meant that the banana started moving a little faster than she might have expected from Justin. It DID feel nice, as nice as she anticipated he would himself but she couldn't deal with the mounting pressure while trying to see what she could do with the banana. Besides, none of her imagined couplings with Justin involved him in two places at one time - no-one could do THAT no matter how nice it would be. At least she was lucky enough to have two other friends to join them so they could all experience having multiple people pleasuring them. But THAT didn't allow Katie to cope with her immediate problem and reluctantly fucking-Justin-substitute had to make way for blowjob-Justin-substitute. The carrot was placed reverently on the bed beside her, creating a damp spot - but a far lesser dampness than that beneath her sexy ass. Katie inhaled, sucking the banana into her mouth where her tongue could tickle the end. She relaxed and pulled it back. Suck in, pull out. As her tongue pushed up from underneath, the banana scraped against her front teeth. Unlike Justin, a thin layer was removed from the top surface successively thickening the coating on the enamel. Pausing to lick it off Katie giggled at the image of Justin with a skinless sausage. No, that WASN'T something she wanted to do to him; she had other plans for his sausage. She resumed her sucking, accepting a little ongoing damage as inevitable. Biting the end off wasn't. Still it WAS hard to have the delicious fruit in her mouth and not take a bite. Fortunately she wasn't similarly conditioned when giving a real blow job. Katie chewed and swallowed then tried again. This time she wondered how much she could get into her mouth at one time. The amputation hadn't removed enough to notice as she found out when she carefully pushed the banana towards the back of her throat. She struggled with the need to gag and then eased it just a little further. No, that was IT! There was no way she could manage any more. She pressed her fingers against her lips and held them in place as she removed the banana completely. 9 cm! Only 3 and a half inches! It looked so pathetic. Was that insignificant length ALL? Was it the best she could do? Katie tried again, determined to do better but to no avail. The slight increase in length (or should that be depth?) might have only been due to her fingers being moved as she reacted to an overwhelming need to gag. Her frustration was taken out on the banana, the firm fruit rapidly turned to mush that slid down her throat much easier than what she ended up with from Justin if she wasn't careful. It had all been fun (she didn't know if it had been educational though) but she didn't feel like repeating it with the remaining banana. As she picked up the latex- coated carrot she mentally compared the tapering object with the banana she had been sucking on and its wider mate, still with its tough green tinged skin. Katie pulled off the dried, black remains of the flower and swapped the condom over from the carrot to the banana. The loose tube at the bottom of the carrot was gone; the banana filled it right up. If it had been closer to Christmas Katie might have taken it as a sign she had been a good girl all year - if her stocking wasn't full, at least the rubber was. The wider object would have taken a little more effort fitting it into place than it did had Katie not been sopping wet. She eased it back and forth as she lay back with her knees bent so she could push up against the penetrating fruity phallus. This had to be more like how Justin would feel, surely. If it was even close her fantasies would make it even harder for her to hold out until her planned deflowering date. The presence of the bulk of the not insignificant banana inside her provided proof that any such deflowering would be merely symbolic. Some might even suggest that fucking herself with fingers, carrots and bananas was likely to put paid to any claim she might have to virginal innocence - and that was to ignore the balance of her sexual experiences to one side. Thinking of fucking Justin (eventually!) meant, for the moment in her private little world, that he WAS inside her. Katie responded to his thrusts with quiet encouragement. It had to be quiet - while she was as confident as a person guiltily masturbating could be that her parents weren't going to hear her from a couple of rooms away, her brother was just as likely to have his ear against her bedroom door. Having him listening would be worse than her parents hearing. THEY would be more understanding of a private moment of pleasure (though the use of greengrocery probably wouldn't sit well with them); the involvement of her younger brother - even if he was at fault for deliberately eavesdropping - would be a considered a different, and far more serious, matter. Her encouragement changed to stifled moans and a gasping for breath as one of her better orgasms swept over the bed and its regrettably singular occupant. As she recovered she had a thought. Perhaps Justin would like a banana to eat with his lunch at school tomorrow. ----- "Goodnight and thanks for everything. Goodnight Tyler." "Are you sure you don't want a lift?" "No, thanks. It really isn't that far and it's fine tonight. We'll be okay." "All right then. Goodnight to you both. I'll see you on the night if not before." Megan Waters watched them for a couple of minutes before dragging her daughter inside. It had been an interesting, indeed pleasant, evening. Tyler would have only agreed with the unspoken evaluation but for a completely different set of reasons. She and Tina had been able to accomplish enough that both were satisfied; though neither would have discouraged further games, it unfortunately just hadn't been the right time or place. They had come together and rested, recovering in each other's arms as they had weathered their own tempestuous inner storms within identical caring embraces. They lay across the bed, dishevelled and initially uncomfortable until the offending books were pushed aside, their lips now gentle as they looked into their lover's eyes. It was strange that they could feel such overwhelming passion and care so much for, indeed love, the other yet not feel the jealousy in many more "standard" relationships. The way the four had come together ("met" not "peaked") meant none of them felt they were being discarded by a former friend (and playmate); their circle had instead expanded. It didn't mean that they couldn't feel envious of the pleasure that two or even three of the others were experiencing on a particular occasion but they knew there was no exclusivity - they were welcomed yet free to observe, to join in, to seek other solitary or partnered pleasure or even to leave as they wished. Tyler felt that the whole arrangement was much better than some of the bitchiness and acrimonious break ups she and Katie had witnessed at or after school. The pair had freshened up and checked each other's attire before returning to the study where Megan had set up her sewing room. Justin was watching Megan demonstrate a final touch and then finished under the observant gazes of three sets of female eyes. "All done", he was relieved. "Not quite", Megan contradicted, "Now you have to try it on." The two girls laughed at Justin's countenance. "Oh well", he thought, "it was always inevitable; they are going to see it some time - might as well be now." "Wouldn't it be better to see how it looks against the others?" If he had to dress up, why couldn't they? He had Tina's view of the others but a glance in the mirror at her body wasn't the same as being there with them while they were scantily clad. The fact he had shared their near or full nakedness made no difference - clothes can be sexy too. "Good idea. Take your costumes girls and let me see the whole effect. Justin can change in the bathroom." Tina and Tyler wished they had thought of getting dressed up sooner. It would have allowed them to get stripped off with a valid excuse! Pity Justin was being sent elsewhere though. The trio disappeared while Megan turned off the power and tidied up the scraps and threads. She put the kettle on after depositing her rubbish in the kitchen's waste bin and was so busy getting cups and coffee ready that she paid little attention to the trio. Tyler had ignored her mother's direction and, copying her earlier seizure of Tina's arm, dragged Justin unprotesting into her room where she started stripping him. Tina closed the door behind and began to remove her own clothing. "Hurry up, we won't have much time!" "Time for what?" wondered Justin. As Tyler pulled his pants and underwear down to his ankles and THEN worried about his shoes, Justin lifted his t-shirt over his head. He only hoped Tyler's mother didn't decide to follow them in. Tyler pushed him onto the bed and ripped off shoes and socks before making him completely nude. "Get him hard while I change", she instructed Tina. "That won't be difficult, see!" Justin's penis was visibly growing as they stared. Tyler grinned and began pulling her own clothes off. Soon all three were naked together. On her own turf, Tyler was making plans as she went. She knew roughly how long they would have and was going to see if she could get Justin to come as well. There wasn't going to be any opportunity for fancy technique or for her and Tina to have more fun as well but they could get some pleasure from pleasuring him. Tina began to stroke and then suck on her brother's prick then let Tyler take over when she knelt beside her. She saw Tyler was partially dressed and took the opportunity to pull on her own exotic pantaloons. Neither girl stopped to consider whether their excitement would leave them starched. Tyler was bobbing her head, cheeks dented with the suction she was applying and it must have been having some effect as Tina could see light under Justin's backside. Tina climbed up beside her brother and let him lick on the nipple she dangled over his mouth while she proceeded to circle his with her tongue. "Soon" he warned, his fingers clenching Tyler's bedclothes. She would have to make the bed yet AGAIN when they had finished. Ignoring that for now she reached around on the floor and grabbed the panties she had so recently removed. They were still warm. Waiting until she felt him tense Tyler continued to blow the teenage boy and then, nearing the last possible moment, her mouth was replaced by the soft cotton clenched in her hand. Tyler covered the throbbing knob as the spurting started and massaged his prick through the doubled over fabric. It wasn't as nice as her mouth had been but, during the throes of his spewing release, Justin barely noticed. Tina released him with a kiss and went to don her top. She could stop Megan coming looking while the others cleaned up. It had been fun to watch Tyler making her brother come and she grew a little wetter anticipating reliving the experience when they next merged; she would make SURE that was soon while the memory was fresh. Gathering up her scarf she left them "to it". --- "Can you help me fix this in my hair please?" --- Justin helped Tyler attach her own scarf before exploring how easily her breasts were accessible under her top. Tyler's own hands were resting inside his waistcoat and she rubbed her thumbs over his nipples in imitation of his actions - though she, spreading her fingers in the same manner, had no soft masses to mould gently. Sometimes she wished Justin was a girl too - while at the same time appreciating the fact that he wasn't. They had to be satisfied with a quick kiss and cuddle; Megan would get suspicious of any undue delay. --- "Oh your hair's done." "Justin fixed it up for me." Megan couldn't really understand why he had needed to, for that matter Tina should have been able to do her own. Was something funny going on? Megan, ostensibly lining them up for comparison, was checking out other matters. Her daughter certainly was a little flushed; and her nipples made noticeable shadows on the front of her top. Justin too seemed to be filling out his outfit a little more than a boy "at rest" would have. "Oh, ho!" she thought, "Like that is it?" Megan understood about the birds and the bees and teenagers. She wasn't opposed to a little safe fooling around - emphasis on "safe" and preference on "little" - and Justin seemed likeable. She would just have to have another mother-daughter talk, the next in an ongoing series, and soon! She couldn't know that the talk would have been too late and, if it had also dealt with matters similar to the secret relationship between her daughter and the other girls, would have been several months overdue. Tyler, unaware of her mother's mild concern, merely voiced her approval for the overall effect. Even without the talk she was being careful and couldn't have been safer than in the arms of her three young companions and lovers. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Doppelganger Part: Chapter 15 of 31 Summary: Justin was born with a little extra - a set of female sex organs - but that was just the beginning. Keywords: MF, mf, ff, oral, f-solo, m-solo, voy, exhib, rom Language: English Copyright: 2005 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* INTRODUCTION Justin Rogers was born with something special - a complete functional set of female sex organs. Eventually he found they didn't really belong to him but to his twin sister Tina who spent much of her early life sharing his body. Since she is able to emerge from and rejoin him, they share their memories, their experiences, and their sexual desires. ********************************************************* In Chapter 14 Leslie has accidentally outed Tyler and herself as being a lesbian couple and, rather than letting the antagonistic Ainslie spread the news, they have gotten in first but all was not smooth at school. ********************************************************* They got together after school at Leslie's. Justin made a phone call and shortly after excused himself. Only away from the room for a few minutes, he returned with Tina who was dressed in shorts and an old sweater. "Very stylish love", Leslie laughed and gave her a kiss. "It was all I could lay my hands on. I came in a hurry." Tina moved on to greet Tyler and then Katie before publicly greeting Justin. Any opportunity for another snog. "A hurry is right - your mother must have had the car running before you hung up!" Leslie hadn't actually heard a car pull up but it must have, mustn't it? They sat down for a council of war; it became a brainstorming session where they threw wild ideas into the ring, letting others modify them so they became both more and sometimes less wild, and even possibly practical. "Kill her" had "slowly" appended, then was modified with "Hire a hit man to ..." before disappearing into the "wouldn't it be nice but it's totally impractical" basket. Plans to kidnap her were also abandoned when they suspected people might pay them to keep her, or even worse, simply refuse to take her back. They figured they didn't need the money THAT much. "Blackmail" showed more promise except they didn't have any clue what she could possibly be blackmailed over. "Compromising her" might prove tricky. Putting her in the same boat, labelled a lesbian, might be hard and might also be counter-productive; they would rather people were more tolerant rather than giving them someone else to hate. "Could we give her a reputation as a slut?" asked Katie. "Unfortunately even I would have difficulty there", answered Leslie. "She talks to the boys at school and when she's at dances but doesn't seem to date anyone. Have you heard anything Justin?" "No. There are a couple of girls with reps but not her." "Oh? Who?" Tyler nudged her girlfriend, "Keep your mind on ending the gossip about us, not on spreading more." "We really don't know much about her interests, nor about what she is planning for you two. We could use some bugs around her house." "I know what that's like. My brother, 'Little Einstein' that he is, made one a few months back. You could pick it up on FM radio. He's got a whole book with all the layouts to make different ones." "How big was it Katie?" Justin wondered if it was possible that they could make another foray into the enemy's lair. "It fitted in a match box but that was only because it was a convenient container; and he had a battery attached. I've seen one of the later ones he was working on and it used little watch batteries. He was trying to fit it in a fat marker pen." "That's better than our transceivers. Does it cost him much to make them?" "No he does it with his allowance." "Can you ask him if he can make us some. If he can set them to different channels we might be in the market for half a dozen." "Okay but how will you get them into place?" "Trust your favourite magicians there. I've still got a couple of tricks up my sleeve." "So if it works we check out some of the others working with her. Cool." "You'd better find out the range before he starts making them. We might have to use the transceivers instead; they reach a couple of kilometres but if they're on all the time they will go flat rather quickly." Tina thought of the size - mouthpiece and earpiece were mounted at each end of an adjustable head seat - it wouldn't be comfortable for her to get it inside the house without some drastic redesign. "A couple of kilometres would cover any of our houses but if Katie's brother can get a signal at least this far we should be able to set something up." They decided that they had found a plan which would give them an edge and possibly the material they needed to abate the nuisance known as 'Ainslie'. ----- Katie said goodbye to Justin and Tina and went inside. Her parents weren't home but her brother was - sitting with a bowl of cereal in front of the TV. "David I want to talk to you about the bug you built." "I didn't mean any harm. I wasn't going to tell anyone, honest!" "What are you on about? What have you been listening to?" David realised he had made a bad mistake assuming he had been caught out. He realised it far sooner than his big sister took to think through the possibilities of just what he had overheard. Murphy's Law meant he would have managed to get the most damaging information possible. "You've got the basement bugged haven't you." Once again his face gave him away and he didn't need to answer. "How long?" "Last month." That could be anything from three to - allowing that he would minimise the extent of his crime - probably ten weeks. At best he would have caught them only once but that would have been worth his while. More likely three times - they had spent a good deal of their time before that meeting elsewhere. "The little creep! So what's he going to do now I know?" "Heard plenty I suppose?" Now he grinned. He began to figure his might be the lesser crime in his parents' eyes and might even get forgotten along the way. "Do you really fool around with girls? God that Justin guy must have fun watching that. I wish I was him." "Well you can just keep quiet about it all. Okay?" "I already said I wasn't going to tell anyone. If you can't trust your darling little brother, who can you trust?" He put on an angelic face that had Katie laughing. "'Darling' I don't think and hardly little; you're thirteen months younger than me and you're already my height. Unless you're describing something else?" She glanced meaningfully down just to humiliate him. He did blush a little; perhaps she had scored. She needed to get his mind off of any thoughts of using the information. "I need your help. Do you have any bugs that would work at least 500 or 600 metres? They would have to be fairly thin ..." She held up her fingers to show the approximate size, "... and maybe so long." David looked at his sister in surprise. "I'd have to check the range but I think so. Why that size?" "To conceal them properly I think. Can you check please? Now?" "Okay." He went to his room; Katie followed. She rarely entered the messy environment and hoped he didn't enter her more pristine room. "Oh shit!" she thought, "what's he put in there?" Fortunately she hadn't needed to jill herself for quite a while; her needs were being more than adequately met in that area. "Are they hard to make?" Her unusual interest in his hobby distracted him while he was rummaging through a stack of magazines, some of which she was sure their parents didn't know about. She picked up one and noted his aborted objection. She leafed through it, turning the pages when an occasional photo needed interpreting from different angles to work out the bits and pieces. David was amused at her interest. "You can borrow it if you like." He expected her to throw it back on his bed but she simply closed it and said "Thanks". "Here it is." He looked through a soft covered book. "Narrow circuit board. I can wrap the antenna around the outside. I'll need to play around a bit here to get the frequency right. It should be good for that distance thought the frequency will wander if it's moving. Are you planning on leaving it somewhere or putting it on something being carried?" "Leaving it." "That will be alright then." He looked at the specs. "Drawing that much current you could expect about a weeks use - maybe up to nine or ten days but the signal will be weak at the end." "How long would it take to build maybe six?" Once again David referred to the parts list. He had most of the components. "I'll have to get some chips. There's still time tonight if it's urgent then half an hour each in a batch plus ten minutes testing each." "Could you start tonight?" "I could..." "And what would it cost." "Materials - probably around $50 all up. Time - What do you think it's worth? Why do you need them? It seems pretty urgent." "Someone's trying to hurt my friends; I want to stop her. If I can find out what she's planning or get some dirt on her I might be able to do just that." "Which friends is she after?" "Tyler and Leslie." His eyes glazed over a little at the memory of what he had heard or rather at the scenes he had imagined while he was listening to the groans, moans and strange noises coming from the basement. He liked the girls. Tyler had been coming around for ages and had always been friendly towards him; he didn't know Leslie as well but he was grateful to her for the images he had of her tucking into Tyler's gorgeous tits. "So who's on at them for being lesbians? Hey! Don't look at me like that. I could have spoken out about what I've heard them, and you, get up to but I didn't. I wanted to test the bug at first then I wanted to hear more; you are pretty interesting you know. But I didn't plan to tell anyone. I didn't want to hurt any of you and anyway", he grinned again, "if I did you'd only stop using the basement and where would I be then?" Katie picked up the magazine. "Wanking to these instead of my friends." David shrugged as if to say "guilty as charged". "So who IS your target?" "Ainslie Weston." "Tall, fairly skinny but nice tits?" "Considering that could be a good quarter of the girls at school depending on how you define 'nice', Yes she fits that description." "Hangs around with Simone?" "Used to. Simone's pissed off with what she's up to but isn't really siding with Leslie and Tyler." "Okay. I'll do it - for the cost of the materials, but I wanna watch." Katie looked at his wrist where he had a perfectly good time piece. "No dopey! I want TO watch; you with the girls, or just the girls together. You can arrange something can't you since it's in a good cause?" "You're joking!" "Why should I joke. I don't want to get physically involved - well I do but I'm not going to push my luck. One time only; I remove the bugs ("So there were more"); and I deny all knowledge of anything I may have heard in the past. If it's a really good show I'll even owe you one. What more can I say? Better make up your mind - the shops are going to close soon." "What if they don't agree? I can't make them." "Sis, I actually trust you. If you say you'll try your best I'll accept that. All I ask then is you put on your own show for me instead but that's the second prize. You've got to promise to try to get the others involved first." It was embarrassing either way but they did need to stop Ainslie and he wasn't asking for all he could. "Okay but get going. Would you be able to make me a couple before dinner?" "Should be able to. You got twenty? You can owe me the rest but its easier if I buy everything now and I only have about thirty." "Damn. Listen make two now and we'll organise the rest later. We probably need to test them out before making more. Besides, I'm skint until Friday." Her brother shook his head and headed off to the stores while she went to the phone. ----- Justin and Tina picked up Katie on the way to Leslie's house and heard what she had agreed to. Tina laughed, "The little perv. What is he? Fourteen?" "He's just turned fifteen but he does look a little older." "I suppose we can accommodate him but it really is up to you girls. You put up with me watching; is it much different if he does?" "You're usually resting between performances and we all love you. *HE* will probably just head off to the bathroom and jerk off halfway through?" "And you like that idea?" Katie was surprised. She hadn't thought of her younger brother as a sexual animal but rather as one of those "nasty little boys" who was always playing with himself and trying to see her in some state of undress. Thinking of him getting so hot watching them all together that he couldn't put off coming amused her and made her hot at the same time. "I suppose it is a bit of a compliment really. Maybe if he wants a show we'll have to put one on as well. Make it a condition we ALL have to be naked and he's not allowed to leave until WE say we're finished." Katie nodded with Justin's suggestion. He continued. "If he's not so embarrassed that he can't get it up I bet he'll get so worked up he can't stop himself coming." "That WOULD fulfil the word of the agreement and add some extra spirit as well." "So we put it to the others then. If they don't want to we can always organise something with just us three." ----- Leslie let them in and they went to her room. "Tyler will be here shortly." Katie laid the items out on Leslie's bed. Her brother had used the plastic vials that had contained the innocuous chemicals from a disused chemistry set. Rounded on the end they were slightly flexible and resembled aluminium cigar tubes. He had fed a thin wire through a hole drilled in the bottom and sealed a rubber bung in the end then he wrapped the wire around to keep it out the way. Katie straightened it out and asked Leslie to turn her radio on. Leslie moved the dial through the FM stations to one end of the scale and under Katie's instruction began to slowly traverse the frequencies. There were a few false starts but eventually the noise they heard was the feedback squeal from the unit. "How about we put it somewhere where we can hear it and go for a little walk with the radio over Ainslie's way to check out the reception?" It seemed a good idea and Katie slipped it out the way on a cluttered shelf in the lounge while Leslie spoke to her parents. They went outside and turned the volume up. "... aren't they. I'm glad they get on so well together, she needs some good friends who are prepared to stand by her at times like this." They blushed as Leslie looked at them. They were "happy to stand by her" and were "good friends" but it was a different matter to be praised for doing so. They saw Tyler approaching and went to meet her. As they walked they listened to the sounds of the television with an occasional comment from Leslie's parents. "Stop that. They could be back at any minute." "Isn't that what makes it more exciting?" The group, except for Leslie, couldn't help giggling. She too saw the funny side but was torn between turning the radio off to protect her parents' privacy and her sanity - she had to face them every day after all - and listening more closely to find out just what they did together. Prurience prevailed and she shushed the others. "Go on then. Get it out and come over here." What was her mother talking about? Was it too much to hope it could be something innocent? There was the sound of a chair creaking, a muffled footstep and then an unmistakable zipper - a reasonably short one. "Hello pet." It was her mother again. "Come and let me give you a big kiss." The giggles started again and this time Leslie joined in. It was awkward for them all to crowd close while they walked so they paused to listen. Had Leslie's mother approached what they all imagined had to be a blow job WITHOUT the weird comments, they would have felt somewhat ashamed of their eavesdropping but now it seemed more like a sexy game. "Does she spit or swallow, I wonder?" Tyler couldn't stop herself stirring her lover and received a thump. "We could make her a CS as well", Tina added. Justin knew when the ground was shaking and kept both quiet and away from any possible ricochets if Leslie let fly. Surprisingly she actually grinned at Tina. "And just how do you proposed we become cum sisters? Do you plan to suck off my father or should Mum go down on Justin?" She was just being facetious but the images were strangely attractive - especially if she could be safely ensconced with Tyler out of any suggestion of incestuous contact. Tina looked at her brotherly cousin. "What do you reckon? Fancy Mrs Frost? I know Mr Frost is a hunk. Do you agree Tyler or would you prefer Leslie's mum?" "I'm staying right out of it. I'm happy to have them as in-laws; or should that be out-laws?" "Shh! What was that?" There was a groaning and an exclamation from Leslie's father. "Thank you Sugar. Do you want a drink?" "Yes. And you can return the favour after the kids are asleep." "My pleasure dear. You know I like a little night cap before I go to sleep." "Well I guess she rates honorary status anyway." Leslie still had trouble seeing her parents in that light. She looked at the others. "How do you think she would react if I called her 'Sugar' when we get back?" Tyler answered for them all, "I don't think we really want to find out." They continued on to Ainslie's house and were more than satisfied with the continuing reception. It was now just a matter of planting the bugs on site. They hurried back with the radio switched off. Leslie was having second thoughts about invading her parents' privacy now it was too late. She didn't regret finding out about her parents' sexual behaviour for herself, and maybe Tyler, but wasn't sure it was right for the other three, close as they might be, to listen in. Still if they only needed one bug tonight perhaps she could move the other into her parents' room. The idea of hearing her father go down on her mother was getting her wet and she wished it wasn't a school night so Tyler and she could spend it together. Their parents might give an unspoken approval to their having sex but it wasn't permitted to interfere with her studies. Leslie's parents felt they were under intense scrutiny by the group of youngsters that trooped in together. They guiltily checked for any sign of their activity. "No! They couldn't tell. Could they?" Leslie distracted her parents while Katie retrieved the bug; she bent down while talking to her mother and licked her thumb before wiping it over her mother's chin as though she had something smeared there. "All gone!" Boy could her mother blush! --- Checking the frequency on the other transmitter was less difficult than finding another spare radio. Tyler watched them leave and turned to Leslie. "I can't stay long." Leslie responded by pulling her into a contour matching embrace. "So don't waste time." They kissed, and as they did two active and horny minds thought alike and their hands slipped under each other's school uniform and inside the waistbands of their not so uniform underwear. Both girls found their partner wet and eager for their touch and it soon became a race to try to make the other girl submit first. Since they were both horny the challenge was more interesting as neither wanted to lose by winning too completely. They eased back from a gallop as they felt themselves heading towards a satisfactory finish over far too short a course and managed to sustain each other at a steady pace for as long as they dared. They fell back on the bed together and pushed that little bit further, applying their whips for a nail biting photo-finish. They lay there panting, staring into each other's eyes and sure the room reeked of sex. "I love you Tyler Jude." "And I'll love you always Leslie Ann." They spent a little more time giving each other a slow rub down before Tyler had to go. ----- It was dark enough when the other three reached their destination but Justin and Tina had a couple of problems they hadn't thought through. Number 1 : Katie was present and they hadn't wanted to let on about their special nature even to her quite yet. Number 2 : Justin and Tina hadn't thought to bring a back pack this time so if Tina merged he would have to hide or carry her clothes - neither a good option if they had to run for it. And number 3 : It's bloody near impossible to shove something the size of their bug up inside the inside the human body without adequate lubrication - and the footpath is NOT a good place to work on the problem. "It's no good", said Tina, "I need a really good fingering and I'm not going to get it here. You'll have to do it Justin; at least Katie can get your motor running by doing little more than wrapping her tongue around your tonsils." Though Katie was confused Justin seemed to understand and agree. "Then we just need a place to change." Tina handed him the bug she had been trying to insert under her skirt. At least he wouldn't need to pick up her knickers - they were already scrunched up in his pocket. She went up to Katie, the street was quiet and dark enough that no-one would notice them kiss. "I've got to go now. I probably won't see you again tonight. Bye Katie." Stifling her urge to ask why, Katie returned the kiss. "Hmm", she thought, "If I didn't have Justin I'd probably have joined Tyler and Leslie in the office today. Tina is so nice to kiss." Tina headed into some thick bushes and Justin led Katie to a small park several houses from Ainslie's. "This might seem strange but I've got to get my vagina wet enough to slide the bug up inside. The plan was for Tina to do it but that didn't work. Will you help?" "Of course but I don't understand why that's necessary." "You'll just have to trust me for now. I'd like to explain but right now isn't a good time and it involves others." "Well it's certainly not a hardship to give you a kiss and a cuddle." "Tina was right about your kisses making me hard but you've got to get me dripping." "That shouldn't be too difficult, your kisses do that to me every time. Perhaps you'd like me to shove the bug up inside me?" "You know that's not what I'd like to put there." "If we get this job done quickly we might have time to think about doing just that." Katie nibbled at his neck while trying to rub his hardened cock through his pants without it being obvious should they be under observation. "You can't wait until the weekend?" "I kind of hoped you couldn't or is Tina getting all the mid-week action?" "Not quite like before. We might fool around a little but she understands that you and I love each other. And I certainly love what you're doing right now. Excuse me for a second though." He undid the zipper and exposed his organ to the cool night air and Katie's hot hand. While she manipulated the knob end in an extremely pleasant fashion, he reached under her and past his balls. It was an unusual situation; he couldn't recall ever masturbating his female portion while someone else was pleasuring the male part and it wasn't something he was likely to forget. "All those poor men who have to make do with only half the equipment", he thought. Their public escapade was successful, more so than they realised since they had forgotten the bugs allowed Leslie, now sitting alone in her room, to catch the discussion in stereo. She had missed Tina's departure and Justin's disclosure about where he wanted to place the bugs so she couldn't understand why they were fooling around instead of getting the job done. She wondered if Tina was putting them in place but realised that couldn't apply or she'd be hearing Tina and not the others. "Maybe they have to wait - at least they're spending their time profitably." Justin's voice came over the radio. "Loud and clear", she thought. "I think I'm ready. Katie dear, you can stop now. No I mean it! Well alright just a little more. Mmm. I thought you wanted to get this over with so we could do that properly. Ungh. No you'd better stop or you'll have to keep going. Yes, keep going now. Point it away. Oh! Lovely! I love you Katie, but you're crazy some times. What if someone had been watching?" "It's time for all the dramas - people are going to be stuck inside watching TV; you can see all their curtains are drawn. Besides, I was standing in front of you most of the time." "Not when you made me come. It was nice to have your arms wrapped around me while you kept pumping and your tits felt nice against my back." "Get this job over with and they'll feel nice against Little Justin." Leslie might not have liked to use "Sugar" but those two should have known better - "Little Justin" would get talked about for a while. "I think I can get them both in." Now what was going on? Justin had his pants down to his knees. "Yes. One is easy and feels quite good. Let me take it out and try them together. Stretches a bit but I can manage." The signal dropped and Leslie could only hear muffled noises as her friends spoke. The conversation had been puzzling and Leslie was frustrated that she couldn't be with them to find out what was happening. Justin pulled up his pants. "Okay. Give me a kiss for luck then you'd better stand over there in case I have to run. I shouldn't be long." He went down the side of Ainslie's house and carefully looked through a gap under the blind into her darkened bedroom. Enough light shone through the partly opened door to show it was thankfully empty. Justin dreaded the idea of being hauled up as a peeping tom. "Here goes", he thought. "Hope it's you and not me. We still haven't worked out how I can merge back with you if I appear naked - and now isn't going to be a good time to start trying." He saw a wheelbarrow further down and moved it next to the wall. He didn't know if a height difference would be a problem when Tina emerged - the last time they had tried this he had stood outside the door. Climbing into it, he felt the change even before his back touched the wall; Tina must be eager to get this over with as well. He put the barrow back and headed off to rejoin Katie. Tina had only briefly surveyed the bedroom on her previous foray into enemy territory. Now she needed to quickly locate a spot where the bug could work but where it also wouldn't be found. She squatted by Ainslie's bed to recover the tubes. Her fingers slid up the walls of her vagina and seized the ends of one of the bugs. It was slippery but she managed to regain her hold and drew it forth. The other proved much easier to manage. The shelves were too bare; the hi-fi was too close to the speakers and had little concealment. Wardrobe? Too muffled. Curtain rail? Too thin to slip it inside. Damn! Where could she put it? No good putting it in her bed; it was sure to be discovered. Ah! Ideal perhaps - a pair of old shoes, so coated with dust it didn't appear they were ever worn. Wiping off her juices and any potential fingerprints with the bedspread she slipped the tube inside and pulled the antenna out of the open toes so it could lie flat under a couple of other pairs. "Number one in place", she whispered at the shoe. It was hard not to say "Testing, testing, one, two, three." She peeped around the door and heard the TV in the lounge. As she listened to the comments it appeared the whole household was in there; it confirmed the darkness that covered most of the house. Toilet? Not unless they wanted grunts and groans. Bathroom? Shouldn't get much useful information there. By the phone would be ideal but where was it? "Kitchen!" she remembered. Going out into the hallway was risky and she decided camouflage was necessary. She quickly moved from bedroom to bathroom and wrapped a towel around her body then made a turban with another. People would have to look twice to see she didn't belong - naked they would have still looked twice but it wouldn't have been from necessity. There was a shelf of cookery books near the phone and she dropped the bug towards the back of them then hurried back to Ainslie's room after throwing the towels in the bathroom. "Let someone else pick them up!" She quietly closed the door and turned on the light. With the primary task accomplished she now aimed to collect what information she could. If disturbed she could just merge back with Justin - she hoped he was rewarding Katie for waiting when she got there. Remembering how her mother had found her contraceptive hidden in Justin's drawers she looked around - where would the good stuff be? Bottom drawers were used less often than the top ones. "Nothing in it; how about underneath?" Tina carefully slid it out. "Hmm? What's this?" There was a small packet of pills and a vibrator. Now, what to do with them? She distastefully picked up a pair of discarded knickers and used them to remove the contraband then she replaced the drawer as it had been. Ainslie's school bag was by the wall and Tina opened it. She would have loved to have put them inside Ainslie's lunchbox but that wouldn't be possible. Firstly, she wouldn't put her lunch in her bag until the morning and, secondly, in her attempts to stay stylishly slender Ainslie had forgone more than a piece of fruit at lunchtime and didn't bother about boxes. Her diary would be ideal for the drugs though. Provided she didn't need any notes for school she shouldn't need to open it until it was time to record her homework assignments. Tina hoped she could see it happen; perhaps she should go to school with Justin tomorrow. They had Home Economics tomorrow - cooking this week - and Ainslie had packed her apron. Tina unpacked it and rolled it up around the hard plastic cylinder before putting things back. "That should do", she thought and simply disappeared. ----- Before he met up with Katie, Justin had bundled up Tina's discarded clothes in her sweater. Katie just raised her eyebrows - too many weird things had happened tonight. "All done?" "Should be soon." Now what did that mean? There was no reason to hang around; indeed they were better off getting well away from the scene of the crime - if no-one noticed them they couldn't be linked to the bugs if they were found later. They were almost at Katie's house when Justin knew Tina had joined them. He felt a sense of disappointment - apparently a sudden regret he hadn't done more with Katie in the park - and then a sense of pride and delight. It was the first time he had received a seepage of Tina's emotions in such an obvious form. He recalled what she had done and could understand her pride. "Good work!" "What?" "We've had a more successful evening than I had hoped. There's one bug under her bed and another near the phone in the kitchen; plus there's a couple of surprises for her at school tomorrow if we're lucky. It looks like Miss A likes a little ecstasy and not the sort you give me." "You had to wait until now to tell me? Something funny has been going on all evening and I'd like an explanation." "I have to agree that you most definitely deserve one. You've had to trust me and I should show you that I do trust you. We really need to be somewhere better than the street because I have to show you some things as well. I'd feel better if we knew your brother couldn't overhear us though." "I plan on putting some music on in my room and in the basement and then scanning for a signal. Now he's shown us how to tune in we should be able to tune him out." "Unless he knows some other tricks. I know I could run some wires through the ceiling with a microphone on the end or base one next to a window - not quite so high tech and easier to track back but your test wouldn't pick it up." "Damn. What are we going to do in future then. We'll never know what he's listening in on." "Other than to do spot checks on him once he's shown us the bugs are gone or perhaps feeding him some shonky story and seeing if he reveals he knows it." "So when am I going to find out what you're planning to tell me?" "I'll show you when we get to your place but it does have to stay secret for now; not even Tyler and Leslie - okay?" "Okay if you say so. Since you didn't mention Tina I presume she's aware of your little secret?" "Let's just say I'll leave it up to you to decide if it's safe to share it with her. I trust your judgement - after all you chose me." Katie opened the back door. "I'm home." "Hello dear. Hello Justin. You're later than I expected; don't forget it's a school night." "I won't be staying long. I just wanted to have a word with David actually." "He's in his room." "As they moved down the corridor Justin turned to Katie. "Can I just drop these in your room for now?" "Are they part of the secret?" Justin smiled and gave her a kiss. "Be patient." She took the clothes from him and he reached into his pocket and brought out Tina's knickers and added them to the top of the bundle. That caused further raised eyebrows. "This had better be good!" Justin knocked on David's door while Katie put the clothes on her bed and then went to phone Leslie to check how well she was receiving the signals. "They're coming through clearly; it's funny, when you sit between the radio's you can actually hear someone go past one and then hear them approach the other. "What took you so long anyway? Didn't Little Justin want to come out and play? It certainly sounded like he came at least." Katie tried to think of what they had actually said and done. She laughed. "You're not jealous you haven't got one are you?" "No. With my Little Leslie I can get as many Little Justin's I want; though one Little Tyler is all that I do want." "Well I'll stick to the LJ I've got too. Have a good night's listening." "That's the trouble, I have to listen to everything. It's boring most of the time - and it's only been half an hour, then you worry if you missed something because you aren't paying attention when someone starts to talk." "I'll see if we can do about that. You don't HAVE to keep listening. It's only so we can get some dirt or stop her plans. ANYTHING we get is better than nothing but it's stupid to plan your life around eavesdropping. Get some sleep!" "Okay. Goodnight." "Bye." --- David invited Justin into his room. "Thanks for the bugs. They seem to be just what we needed. Do you make many things?" David and he discussed a few projects that he had worked on and some he wanted to do. "The bugs are easy. They actually sell them in kits but they have to call them 'FM Microphones' or something similar." "Is there anyway of finding where they are? What would give them away?" "Mainly tuning a radio past the right frequency - you get feedback if you're close or you hear someone talking that you recognise - that's how we find the exact frequency to listen in at. If you had a directional antenna and knew the frequency you could locate it - have you seen them tracking animals on the Discovery Channel?" "And how do we know how many you've hidden around the house?" The reason for Justin's interest became more obvious and personal. "There's only two. One in the basement and ... well that's the only one Katie has to worry about." "Listening in on Mum and Dad are you?" David had the good grace to blush. "I won't say anything - provided we get our privacy back. You wanted something from us; if you can be trusted to keep us bug-free I think that it might be possible to arrange something sooner than you thought. Deal?" David was eager. "Deal!" Katie arrived to hear the end of the conversation. "What is Justin arranging? He isn't planning on letting David watch THEM is he? At the very least he could ask her!" "Hello love. David was telling me about some of the things he has built." "Well he'd better recover them if he knows what's good for him." "He said he would." "I will Sis. Don't worry." "Do you know of anything we could use to be able to only record the bugs when there is something to listen to?" "You can get recorders that would do that. They only work when the sound is loud enough. I might be able to rig something up. I'll check if I can find a circuit." "Thanks." She looked at Justin as if to say, "Why are we wasting time here when we could be alone?" He took the hint but stuck his head back through the door before he closed it. "Trust me on this. Go and have a shower now." David blinked and watched the door close. He was initially suspicious that they were going to get back at him but then thought it unlikely. "After all they want me to build more things; don't they?" He was coming to appreciate the further benefits of an interest in electronics. Katie pulled Justin quickly into her room, pushed the door shut, threw her arms around his neck and thrust her tongue down his throat in one smooth movement worthy of a choreographer with the Bolshoi. When they surfaced for air she asked, "Are we safe here?" "If you're going to attack me like that I don't think I'm safe with you anywhere. Want to attack me again?" "I mean, do we have any eavesdroppers?" "No. I think we're safe. I suggested David go and take a shower." "Why? Oh! So he can't hear us if he has bugs here." "That as well." "As well as what? Are you going to stop being so mysterious?" "Why, when you look so beautiful when you get annoyed? Still ..." He fended her off. "... you look beautiful the rest of the time too." She was about to speak again when he put his finger over her lips. "Okay. Serious now. Where do you think Tina went when she left us?" "Home, I suppose." "What's on your bed?" Katie looked though she knew very well. "The clothes she was wearing?" "And did she have anything with her?" "No." "So she wore what home?" "Maybe she's sitting naked in the bushes by Ainslie's house. I don't know - you're supposed to be making this easier to understand." "What would you say if I said she was in your room right now?" "She's hiding pretty well then, or is invisible." "Not invisible, just hiding. You want to check the corridor is empty?" Katie went to the door; when she turned back Tina was standing there naked. "How? This has got to stop. You two are getting scary." "That's why we haven't said anything before. It takes a little getting used to. Hell, it takes a lot of getting used to. Do you want to see Tina hide and appear while you're watching?" "I'd better." Justin took Katie's hand. "Now she's here ... and now she's not." He didn't even have to look. "And now she's back. "Where did you go?" Katie looked from one to the other. They were treating it so casually that she couldn't be scared. Besides, horror movies had covered so many weird storylines that it took a lot to really freak out a modern teenager - like someone wearing the same shade of lip gloss; and that was only the boys. "I'm not exactly hiding. Justin and I merge together. Unfortunately my clothes get left behind." "You've heard men talk of getting in touch with their soft feminine sides - well you get to cuddle mine! Tina's not my cousin; she's really my very special twin sister and we've spent most of our lives together in the one body. That's the real reason I have a vagina; it's Tina's." "You couldn't have told me before?" Katie was a little upset the person she loved could have kept this big a secret from her. "Until now the only people who knew were my doctor and my mother - and I needed my doctor to calm my mother down. My father even refuses to acknowledge I have a vagina; imagine trying to tell him I'm 'us'! I'm sorry I haven't told you before. It's not that I didn't trust you or want to. It's..." Justin couldn't really justify his actions. "It's hard at times. I don't exist anywhere legally. We don't know what the authorities would do if they found out about me or us rather. We have to keep it secret and every new person who knows is one more person who could accidentally let something slip. I've almost done it myself by calling Justin my brother. I got Mum to convince Dad I would be more comfortable calling them that rather than Uncle and Aunt so I didn't slip up there. We're sorry. And we *DO* really, really love you." Katie wasn't cross, and the explanation did ease her hurt - a little. "Show me again." Katie took hold of Tina's hand; and was suddenly left holding nothing. Justin looked at her. "Are you all right?" "It does take some getting used to but I think so." "I'd better go; your mother is going to be in here soon to kick me out anyway. Sorry I didn't get to return the favour in the park - Tina thinks I should have then and there but she's got an exhibitionistic streak. Would you like her to spend the night in my place?" "Well at least then I know she won't be fucking you. Yes lover, I think I'd like to have my own big teddy bear to cuddle." "She's not that hairy unless you plan to cuddle her pussy." Tina appeared again. "You just let her cuddle whatever she wants!" "You could hear us?" "We share Justin's ears, eyes, everything when we're together. And don't worry about me fucking him; I know he thinks of you when he's doing it." It was a harmless half-truth, one she thought would help ease Katie's acceptance of her unusual role in Justin's life. He might not actually think of Katie when he was with Tina but it seemed like his mind kept coming back to her during every other waking moment and he did compare their love-making. Tina understood why he preferred to be with Katie while being quite happy herself to "use" Justin and be used by him for their mutual pleasure. He did love her as well as Katie, just as she loved her brother. "I'd better go. See you tomorrow love." He kissed Katie. "And you - whenever you decide to come home." He gave his sister an equivalent kiss. "Have fun you two." "I'll be back in a little while." Tina gave Katie a quick hug and disappeared. "Why did she go?" "She agreed with me that it might pay to give David a little incentive as well as a reward for services rendered. She won't be far away." He paused as they walked down the corridor and rested against the locked bathroom door. The sound of flowing water could be heard from inside. "Okay. I'll be off then." Katie saw him out and returned to her room to get ready for bed once David had finished in the bathroom. ----- There was a small draught as the shower curtain was pulled aside and David whirled around, his hand still clenching his soapsuds-coated erection. "What?" His horror at being disturbed in that most private of moments for a young lad disappeared as he looked at the naked vision before him, then returned a hundred-fold as he looked at her face and saw she was looking down at his clenched fist. "Oh Shit!" This was NOT how he had ever imagined any of his fantasies turning out. Tina simply said, "Move over", and stepped under the water. She stood behind him and the touch of her breasts against his back soon restored vigour to his wilting stem. He started to turn to face her but she put her arms around him instead. "Here, let me wash that for you." He had released his penis on realising his discovery and now felt the girl wrap her hand around the shaft while her other hand reached under to cup his balls. David had to put his arms out in front to support himself. Tina began to gently slide her hand over the twitching shaft. She didn't expect him to be able to last any time. "Hell, Justin would have blown his wad by now, the first time we got under a shower", she reminisced. She kept the stimulation to a minimum, gently squeezing the glans and fingering his balls. "Do you like this David?" She got a shaky response which she interpreted as an affirmative. "Would you like more?" He could only nod his head, flinging droplets everywhere, while he concentrated on sports or maths or anything but what she was doing and the gorgeous vision he had seen. "Well that might be possible, just remember ...", she squeezed his scrotum gently and David lifted up on his toes as she dragged the contents forwards and up. "... you play ball with us ...", she relaxed her hold and began stroking, "... and we'll play ball with you." David went rigid and began to coat the shower with his emissions while Tina pumped until he was empty. "That was fun", she thought. For very little effort, and no real involvement, she had made him much more interested in pleasing them as a group. She liked him though, he was a nice kid. Almost as tall as Justin, and hence herself, he hadn't filled out and still had slender arms and legs; almost scrawny. She didn't find him exciting sexually, which he would have found depressing, but she didn't mind helping with his fantasies. She washed the cum from the tip of his penis and released him. "Perhaps you would like to wash me now?" It was a silly question and he turned to face her. He couldn't believe it had happened and his hopes of being able to brag about it faded rapidly when she looked at him with her big baby blues - she had to put a finger under his chin to raise HIS eyes so they were actually looking into hers - and said, "You realise that this and any future favours are conditional on your complete and utter silence about anything you have or will hear or see or do, don't you?" This time David found his voice. "I promise." "And the bugs disappear from anywhere we are going to be? I don't mean that you have to shift the other one." "She knew?" David didn't think Justin was going to mention it; perhaps he just meant not to David's parents. David wasn't sure he wanted Katie to suspect he might be listening in when they went to bed. Though if he had to tell the truth so far it had been pretty boring. What hadn't been daily catch up, or farts, or snores, tended to be smooching and a little quiet loving where he couldn't make out as much as he could in the basement - at least Katie and the others told each other what they liked or wanted or made lewd and cheeky remarks about the others' activities. The best he had heard was his father reassuring his mother that Katie was a good girl and they needn't worry about her having a boyfriend since she always had the others around as well. THAT was good for a chuckle after he had listened in to what went on in the basement! "Okay" He decided the bug SHOULD disappear from the basement. He had a better one in mind that they wouldn't find and, if he didn't say anything, they wouldn't know; and what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them or him, would it? If he could get into the neighbours' house there was a cute eighteen year old who had her boyfriend over frequently - that could be almost as interesting. Plus he had that parabolic snooper he wanted to build and if only he could get his hands on a cheap laser he'd been reading about picking up the vibrations off of a window. Maybe the others could fund his research. He shook his head. What was he thinking about! Katie's friend Tina was standing in front of him, NAKED, and had asked him to wash her, and he was thinking about bugs! He decided there had to be something seriously wrong with him as he reached for the soap. With an awareness that his dream could end at any minute and that he would surely wake in his own bed with cum- stained PJs he decided that it was more important that Tina leave with sparkling clean breasts than he waste time in other areas of her body and he subsequently miss out on the good bits. "More gently", she instructed. "Great", he thought, "she WANTS me to touch them. Where is this going to end?" As with most young men, David was nothing if not optimistic about his chances. "They're beautiful." He didn't realise the phrasing of his intended compliments reduced her to a set of breasts. Tina let it pass. She had made the conscious decision to give him a reward. "Let him learn how to behave on his own time", she thought. She wasn't intending to become his full-time teacher though she was sure that this was probably his fondest wish right then. He improved his technique as she guided him, more as a matter of self-interest. She took the soap from him and began to wash the bits he was missing. His hands paused while he watched her hand move between her legs. "Damn", he thought. "I should have done there too." It was a mistake many a tit-oriented youth may have made - if they were ever lucky enough to have been in his place. Tina noticed the attention he was paying to her ablutions and when she put the soap back and began to rinse she made a show of rubbing herself while really only washing the last of the suds away. He had grown hard and she had an idea. "You wanted to watch us in the basement. Would you like to watch me make myself come now?" The pointing penis noticeably jumped at the suggestion. It was funny to see the head swaying like a metronome, moving up and down in time with the beating of his heart. "Yes please. Would you really do that for me?" "On one condition, over and above what you've already promised. You have to do something for me at the same time." "Anything!" Tina smiled - he would have to learn not to give his word so rashly. "I want to watch you doing what you were doing when I came in." He had to think. "Jerk off?" "Yes. Only fair, don't you think?" Since he didn't think he could stand watching her without coming, and probably without touching his prick, David didn't see what he had to lose other than by having the door burst open and Katie's friends all yell "Surprise!". He looked across - no it was snibbed - but then he had thought he snibbed it when he came in earlier. Still, opening the "locked" door was even easier than building a bug. "Okay." Tina rinsed off her tits as well and stepped out to dry herself. David offered to help but she put him off. "You just stand over there and get dried." She stood in front of him and let him watch as she worked the towel around her body from top to bottom. He paid particular attention as she patted below and beside her breasts, wishing she would let him help. He also watched closely as she rested a foot on the side of the bath to dry her pale and slender thighs, feeling ashamed that he didn't dare kneel at her feet to see more clearly. Tina folded her towel to make a padded seat on the side of the bath and sat with legs spread wide. "Come on", she encouraged, "let's see what you can do." David hadn't tried to hide his erection; having had Tina stroke it in shower made any denial of its existence impossible and besides, he felt it looked much more impressive that way than when it was shrivelled up. He did however feel more sensitive about jerking off in front of her, even in exchange for watching her do the same. Still if he didn't, it was likely that this would be the end of any encounters even if he was allowed to watch one time. He wrapped his fingers around his appendage and began to stroke. As he did Tina smiled and reached down with one hand to part her lips while the other began to encourage her pussy to ooze its sweetly scented lotion. As it flowed onto her fingers she spread it across the sensitive surface and then plunged them deep within. David watched the digits disappear and decided, "What the hell!" He sat cross-legged before the masturbating girl and continued to pump his cock while enjoying the much closer view of the butterfly wings trapped by her spread finger and the two fingers rhythmically fucking the pink hole in the middle of the reddish brown pussy. He leaned back, holding himself upright, and his cock jerked. Cum fountained through the air, landing on his chest; he pumped again and a second followed. He looked at Tina and saw she was staring at his spurting member, her smile disappearing as her mouth screwed up when she pushed her fingers incredibly deeper into her sopping hole. She relaxed and stood. "Well done David." She offered him her fingers and with little hesitation he let her slide them into his mouth. "Oh that tastes lovely", he thought, wishing he could try it from the source. She recovered her hand and passed her fingers through the slime sliding slowly down his chest. David was much more hesitant when she offered her fingers this time. "You should know what it tastes like if you're going to expect a girl to swallow it." He gave in and licked his cum from her extended hand. "Perhaps", he thought, "it isn't such a big deal if a girl refuses to let you come in her mouth." Tina leaned down and gave him a quick kiss, taking the opportunity to scoop up another sample of his boy juice. "See you later David. Can you hang up my towel please?" She let herself out after checking the corridor and opened Katie's bedroom door. David, stunned by all that had happened, simply sat on the floor and said, "Bye." Katie looked up at the unexpected intrusion. "Tina! I didn't think you were coming." "With a bit of luck we both will." Katie stood and the naked Tina carefully embraced her. "I've got something special for you." She held up her fingers and licked one side as she offered them to Katie. Katie copied her and then they kissed. "Has Tina been with Justin? Then how did she sneak back? If she could appear anywhere then why did she use the door? And why couldn't Justin have said goodbye to me outside - I would have given him another hand job if he wanted one." Tina smiled strangely. "Guess who?" Katie immediately answered "Justin" and then realised it quite possibly wasn't. "Where had Tina been?" "No - guess again." Her body still had the freshly washed dampness that a quick towelling didn't quite remove and Katie recalled Justin's instruction to her brother. There was a touch of horror in her voice, "David?" "Is that a problem love?" "It's not something I would deliberately have considered but I suppose not." She didn't really know how she felt; it wasn't quite incest but it wasn't quite right. The taste hadn't bothered her any more than Justin's did; she could take it or leave it. At least David didn't know what she had done - or did he? "You didn't tell David you were going to give it to me did you?" "He doesn't even know I've tried it; though I did make him taste it after he'd wanked himself. Katie found herself wishing she had at least seen his performance. Did she REALLY want to watch her brother? She self-consciously took Tina's hand and cleaned the residue from it. "I suppose I am really a cum SISTER now!" ********************************************************* Continued in Chapter 16

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: FILF Part: Chapter 1 of 4 Universe: --- Summary: Father I'd Like to, well you know the rest. Keywords: Mf, rom, exhib, no-sex Language: English Copyright: 2010 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* Howard, Richie and I - Jerry - were almost interchangeable. For a start, we all worked at the Timber Mill that drove the economy in our small town. I ran Payroll, Howard was in charge of maintaining the equipment and Richie managed the Purchasing and Stores sections. We were all in our mid to late 40's - I was 44 (the baby), Richie was next at 46 and Howard was a revered sage at 48. We had all been married but were now single. My wife had died of cancer five years ago, Richie's of septicaemia not long after his youngest child's birth and Howard's got fed up with life in what was really a small company town and divorced him once she'd moved to the big smoke. He'd been single for seven years now. Then came our families. We each had two daughters, the youngest of which were all graduating high school together and the oldest were employed around town in various businesses that supported the mill and its workers. My daughters Prue, 17, and Nichole or Nick (never Nicky), 23, were so much like their mother it hurt at times. Nichole was a dental nurse - except they called her a technician since she didn't do much nursing. Howard's daughter Fiona, 26, looked like him - though as a girl he was quite stunning. Angela or Ange - another 17 year old - had her mother's looks and, while she was a pleasant girl, I kept wondering if her mother's irritating tendency to snide remarks was just waiting underneath the surface. I tried not to let my feelings show; she'd been abandoned too at 10. Fiona ran the office, the subscriptions and the classifieds for our local 20 page newspaper. Richie's oldest Cassandra or Cass worked in the local fuel depot. At 21 she was old enough that the drivers felt they weren't cradle snatching and young enough that they were all convinced she was naive enough to fall for their charms - regardless of whether or not they were married. She flirted because it helped make the day go but none of them attracted her, not even the younger ones. His youngest Michelle, who went by Shelley, was attracted towards a Goth outlook that was literary rather than musical or scene. I suspect it had more to do with romantic poetry and, while she dressed in what I considered costumes, they were not black and she didn't favour darker shades of lipstick or paler shades of face powder. --- We three met each Friday after work, drank a beer to end the week (except when we were required on Saturdays which is what we each had subordinate staff for in most circumstances) then went home to our adjacent houses. (There was another couple living in the house between mine and Richie's while Howard's was located on the other side of the road from our joint neighbour forming an equilateral triangle between our front doors.) Saturday nights we rotated through a four-weekly schedule with us each taking turns hosting a BBQ or similar dinner and then having the fourth week free for other activities or just relaxing. Sunday mornings we were up early (well, after our Saturday nights it often seemed too early) for a 10 am tee off. We played our 18 holes and returned home for a late lunch with our families. Howard's wife might have been right that we were in a rut but the alternatives were a little scary. I could have picked up a job elsewhere - payroll is payroll - but renting a company house didn't give me any equity that I could apply to a new home elsewhere. The savings I had would make up the difference but then I'd be working to pay off a mortgage or I'd be paying city rents for an apartment or else I'd end up having to travel into the city every day rather than strolling down the street and getting enough exercise with Howard and Richie to keep us all fit. Howard's savings were worse off than mine, having been divided with his ex. I'm not sure how Richie has been managing but I think he feared two big weddings on the horizon. --- +-----------------------------------------------------+ | Jerry STEVENS (44) : Nick (23) : Prue (17) | | Richie WAINWRIGHT(46) : Cass (21) : Shelley (17) | | Howard BECK (48) : Fiona (26) : Ange (17) | +-----------------------------------------------------+ It was Richie's Saturday and Cass and Shelley had worked together to cook us a good sized roast. My two provided dessert while Howard brought us a selection of nice wine. When we entered, Nick joined Cass in the kitchen where they hit the cooking wine while Cass released Shelley to play hostess to their younger guests. Prue went with her and when Ange arrived a minute later she followed without needing to ask where they were. Howard joined Richie and I as we assessed whether to dress the inside table or the outside one. There was enough of a chill for us all to look towards the dining room. We could have all just grabbed as seat at random or been divided into three aged-based triplets. We lived in each other's pockets though and found it more interesting to spread ourselves around so we actually spoke to the people outside those closer knit circles. Formal dinner parties with paired guests sit "boy-girl", usually separating the couples. We sat "Papa Bear-Mama Bear-Baby Bear" and never called it that. This week the two sisters each sat approximately facing their own fathers. I had Howard's oldest Fiona on my left and Richie's youngest Shelley on my right. I complemented Shelley and Cass on the meal as did the others. It was cooked perfectly - at least by my standards and no-one chose to disagree. We tried to avoid returning to the same old topics as we ate and this time there was something new to discuss. Our high school wasn't huge but there were quite a few children that came in from the farming properties and even smaller towns in the district which helped keep the numbers up. Graduation was approaching and the school had its formal dance about three weeks beforehand. This was our little girls' moment to shine yet all three were subdued. "There is absolutely *NO-ONE* to go with!" complained my Prue. "Well there is but *I* wouldn't want to go with them," Shelley agreed. "The good ones already have steady girlfriends and those left are so far off the mark it's not funny." "There is Adam Bishop." "True. He isn't doing drugs, recycling other people's cars without their approval or banging his sister." "Shelley!" "Sorry Dad but if you saw some of the people at school you'd swear the brothers and sisters had parents and grandparents who were brothers and sisters as well." "So why hasn't one of you hinted to this Adam Bishop you'd consider an invitation favourably?" "He's fourteen Dad and short for his age as it is. I don't mind looking at the top of a guy's head if we're dancing but I don't want to rest my tits on top of it!" "Angie!" I was glad it wasn't just my daughter who was prone to ill-advised remarks. "There is one girl I know who is going with someone from the lower class and three at least have dragged out cousins. Another has conned her older brother to skip a date to take her. We don't even have those options." "So you're going stag?" "Stag?" "By yourselves. No partners." "I guess, though wouldn't that be doe? I'd rather have someone male to dance with, though I'd rather go without than have to take a brother or cousin." I couldn't understand one point that had been raised. "Why don't the three that have cousins trade them so they have actual dates for the night rather than relatives?" "That's a good idea. I might suggest it to them." Cass grinned. She liked to throw a cat among the pigeons when she got a chance. "You three should look to the eligible bachelors around you. They don't actually look as old as we know they are and, if you trade your own dad, you won't be going with relatives." It was only natural we would look at the young lady by our side before looking a couple of seats away at the other one who might be interested. "Ah, Miss Shelley, would you give me the pleasure of this dance?" She stood when I pulled her chair back and then I took her in my arms and waltzed her around the music-less room. The room wasn't big enough for all of us to get up at the same time but Richie put some music on and we took turns demonstrating that we old farts could move. And of course, Cass insisted she not miss out so when Howard returned Prue to her seat she was ready to take him back onto the rug before he could sit down. Richie followed and then it was my turn to ask Fiona. The track changed before we were in position and the slow ballad naturally led to some slow dancing. Fiona had no objection and moved even closer to me. It had been far too long since I'd held a woman close and Fiona didn't have many opportunities of her own. She rested her cheek against my chest and I leaned mine against her head. We swayed together until the music ended and the cat calls started. "Get a room, Dad." And thank you, Prue! Fiona gave me a final squeeze and stepped back. I followed her back to the table - conscious of the slight bulge in my pants. I wasn't hard but I was firmer than when I started dancing. Fiona stopped suddenly to turn to thank me and her hand collided with my crotch. It was suspicious but she made no effort to grope me. She did cast her eyes in that direction though when I sat and I noticed both Cass and Nick watching her watching me. "So?" asked Shelley when I was settled. I looked at her. "What was it you said? Oh, right. I would look favourably on an invitation." I thought she was joking - until Prue turned to Howard and Ange nudged Richie. "What? You're not serious are you? You wouldn't want your dads there!" "We'd have our dates there - who just happened to be our friend's dad - *AND* we wouldn't tell the girls taking their cousins and brother." "Hell, those Promise Keeper types go *WITH* their fathers." "Not that there is any need to make promises not to have sex in *THIS* town!" I found I wasn't the only one nodding in agreement with my older daughter's sentiment. I certainly wasn't shocked by it. I looked at Howard, imagining him as my daughter's date for the evening. He looked sophisticated; much like Sean Connery, he had improved with age and I could see that Prue wouldn't be embarrassed dancing with him. I wouldn't have to worry about some guy taking her parking at least. Richie and Ange didn't look that odd either; he was a little short and she was taller so they had been face to face while dancing. I considered my own appearance as well. I wasn't embarrassed by it and Shelley didn't seem worried about being seen with an old fart. So... "Michelle, though I am concerned I may be out of place there and I will not be offended in the least if you weren't serious, I would be delighted if you permitted me to accompany you to the ball or hop or formal or whatever it is being called. I suggest you hold off giving me an answer now though in case someone more eligible asks you. I won't be offended if that happens either." "Mr Stevens, there *ISN'T* anyone more eligible than you - don't you realise that?" My Nick backed Shelley up. "She's right Dad. If you look around the town all the women your age are already accounted for, not that there are many men left over. Among my age group most of the men are either cutting or driving all day and drinking most of the night. Those that remain sober have women; those that don't aren't worth having and the surrounding towns are much the same. And then there is the situation at the high school where there are four or five girls for every three boys." All the women folk around the table were nodding their agreement and I doubted any of the menfolk would disagree with Nick's assessment. We all knew how hard it was to find someone our age anywhere close by. There might be plenty of younger women around but we weren't about to make fools of ourselves in a small place where even asking for a date could leave us open to ridicule - "What on Earth was he thinking!? He's almost twice her age!" I could imagine that. It wouldn't be a problem if the lady in question said yes since then they would be inclined to awe or envy but even a polite no would raise sniggers from the likes of those the womenfolk at the dinner table had rejected. "I'll concede defeat then but still treat me as being only on standby if you *DO* get asked, okay?" "If you insist." My fellow fathers followed my lead. "You realise we probably would have had to go anyway," pointed out Howard. Richie and I raised our eyebrows. "They will be requesting parental assistance for chaperones and we probably top the list for responsible male role models around here too. I certainly feel like the poster boy for chastity." Even the girls laughed. --- What we didn't know at the time was that our older daughters put their heads together about our dinner conversation. "You and Shelley were right Nick. Our dads *ARE* the only guys around here worth looking at unless you feel like stealing someone else's man." "And if he'll drop them for you, you'll always be wondering if he's about to skip with someone else." "I have to say I do like your father, Cass." "Are you just getting in first so I say I like Fiona's dad rather than yours so she isn't left out? It's alright Fee. I actually think Howie is rather sexy. What! Just 'cause he's your father doesn't mean he's not distinguished. If you had your pick would you choose my dad or Nick's?" "*IF* it was a choice between the two of them I guess I'd say Nick's dad - not that I think there is anything wrong with yours." "Doesn't matter - Nick's already got her claws in him." "I just said..." "Doesn't matter, as I said. We know the three of them are the only really eligible men around. We don't have any dispute over which one we prefer and we know that all three of them are going to be receptive to a seduction since they are all horny *AND* that they will likely feel guilty enough about it afterwards that they may feel it is necessary to make honest women of us." "I don't want to trick anyone into marrying me - I don't know that I want to get married, not yet." "I just imagine having one of you as my step-mother and the other as my step-daughter. Hey, that would make you her step-grandmother. Hell! We'd *ALL* become step- grandmothers!" The ensuing laughter did not detract from the important fact that none of the three young women saw anything wrong with the idea in principle. --- We men were all duly advised two weeks before the event that not one approach had been made to any of our younger daughters and that our services would be required. "At least *OUR* escorts will be able to drive us. A few of the others have to have their parents drive them." "We could always drive our own daughters and you could meet your escorts there." "Daddy! You wouldn't be so mean." "Well I'm not too sure about letting some strange young man just drive you around the town. I mean, you haven't even brought him around to introduce him to me." Ange shook her head, got up from her seat next to me, and walked around to Richie's chair where she stood partly behind him with her hand on his shoulder. "Dad, I'd like you to meet Richard Wainwright. Richie, my father Howard Beck. Richie has asked me to the School Dance and has his own car. He promises he will drive very carefully if you'll allow him to pick me up." "I don't know. Have you been driving long - Richie, is it?" As you might have guessed, we make our own entertainment around here and if the quality of our humour is not always of a high standard, the quantity of our bullshit matches the great plains when the bison still roamed supreme. Howard reluctantly gave his approval and then I had to consider his request to drive Prue to the High School. Richie was a bastard and was going to say no, 'since he was going to be there anyway' until I threatened to change my mind which would have a flow on effect. Both his daughter and his date argued in favour of my being permitted to take Shelley myself. --- Our regular dinner was abandoned two weeks later as our older daughters greeted their sisters' dates for the evening in our absence. I don't know what our neighbours thought of us playing musical driveways. In each house, a "young man" waited for his date to descend while the substitute parent warned him to be on his best behaviour and not to keep his date out too late. "Needless to say, I expect you will refrain from drinking!" "Yes Ma'am." "Good. Ah, here she is. Now I'd just like to get a couple of photos of the two of you please." I dutifully stood beside Shelley while we had our photographs taken then I handed her a box with a small corsage. It was something we three men felt appropriate though we doubted the tradition persisted to the same degree as it had when we were seventeen going on eighteen. We each felt the need to let our dates know they were appreciated, even if we were three old farts. "Would you pin it on please?" Ah, I hadn't expected Michelle would be wearing a dress with spaghetti straps. "It's alright - just there." I had to slip two fingers inside the top of her dress to make sure the pin didn't go into flesh - and Cass was there with the damned camera to get me groping her sister! Okay, it wasn't a grope but I felt the softness behind the dress even if it was because Shelley leaned forward into my hand and her gothic bodice was designed to be braless. Flower in place, I was told to put my arm behind Shelley while Cass got a few more. "You're loving this aren't you," I chided. "Are you saying you *DON'T* like having your arm around a beautiful young lady?" "Of course not..." I began but Shelley turned and looked at me. "Are you saying you think I'm beautiful?" "What? Well, yes I do. You look lo..." "Thank you." I had no chance to say more. Shelley had her hand on the back of my neck and pulled me forward to kiss me - presumably in gratitude. Did I mention the damned camera? I was sure Richie would kill me. "I think we should go." It was the first non-fatherly kiss I'd received in ages. --- I was somehow volunteered to take another couple - though none of our daughters thought it reasonable to travel in the car their own father drove. The pickup was on the way so I didn't really mind and I had no reason to want to be alone with Shelley; indeed, after that kiss, I was better off with the company. "Is it okay if I call you Jerry for tonight?" "You're old enough that I don't think it matters if you use my name any time." Shelley beamed and hugged my arm. "Thank you." I was conscious of her lack of bra. Gloria's parents were surprised that I was Shelley's escort as well as chauffeur and insisted we both had time to stand with Gloria and Adam for a combined photo at Gloria's request. I had to stand behind Shelley and she grabbed my hands and held them around her waist. I could feel her breasts resting on top of them and hoped the photograph didn't reveal my state of mind - and that my state of arousal wasn't obvious either to the girl pressing back into me or to the others in the room when she moved. When we left, Shelley turned around and leaned over the front bench seat (I told you we were three old farts!) to talk to the couple in the back. The conversation was mainly over their dresses and Adam and I stoically waited for the enthusiasm for fashion to die down - we arrived before it did and then seeing the other girls only fanned the flames again. The others were there already and Shelley and I joined them after she'd led me over most of the decorated gymnasium first. "You should have gotten here earlier - there were less people in the grand tour." I smiled at Howard then heard Richie address his daughter. "I thought you had a bra on earlier, young lady?" "The straps were visible, Da..., Richie." Shelley grinned cheekily. "Richie!" Ange rested her hand on his arm. "She looks lovely - and it is a special night." "What Saturday?" So I wasn't the only one going by my first name. Adam and Gloria joined us more out of courtesy. Gloria was happy enough being with her friends but he seemed a little awkward in our presence and they were the first on the dance floor when the music started. Of course, we all had to join them and I felt a little foolish swaying around. I felt something else watching Shelley's breasts swaying around. Damn, it had been far too long! I saw her eyes drop to check my response then she looked at me and smiled. This was going to be a long evening. At the end of the song she wasn't the only girl to embrace her partner. It covered me adequately until the next song started and people were busy again. We stayed through three songs - perhaps twelve minutes - and then she took my hand and led me back to our corner so I was hidden behind her. Howard and Richie asked their dates if they would like a drink but, when I did the same, Shelley suggested I wait a couple of minutes - and avoid the rush. Her hand rested briefly on my knee when I agreed. Richie would definitely kill me. Shelley leaned against me. "I assume that is for me. Thank you, it's flattering. I was worried you thought of me as too much of a kid. Tonight is special for me - and not just for the dance. I want to thank you for bringing me." She put her lips to my cheek as I watched my daughter Prue smirking. I waggled a finger at her and she only grinned wider. Ange was as bad but I wasn't *HER* father. Prue made a point of thanking Howard in a similar fashion then Ange thanked Richie. I presume since they hadn't witnessed the first kiss Shelley felt it necessary to prove something to Howard and I got a second. The night continued much as these affairs do with two exceptions - slow dancing started far earlier in the evening than I would have expected and most of the girls who had dates allowed their dateless friends to share their escorts for one or two songs. "Don't they worry that the other girl will try to steal their date?" I asked Shelley, conscious of the excess number of females at the school. "The girls all want a guy but if they get accused of stealing one the other girls will gang up on her. It can get pretty lonely especially when those with boyfriends arrange for them to ostracise the new couple as well." That was just before she was asked if she minded me dancing with some other girl. Shelley looked at me with a grin, "Just remember - you don't want to have no-one to talk to, including Prue!" I felt my new partner fit her body against mine on the dark, crowded dance floor - as Shelley had done and then Amelia and Francine during earlier "ladies excuse me" - and wondered if I was being set up. Surely they weren't all independently checking me out! I looked around and noted Richie had some girl grinding herself against him though most of the High School boys seemed to be getting the same treatment. Howard was being similarly treated though the girl in his arms reached down to pull his butt towards her as the song came to an end. They parted and I was shocked to see it was Prue. Howard's expression was of surprise and then he looked across the dance floor and realised I'd seen too. Surprise changed to shock and then panic. I didn't know what to say when he leaned towards me when we got to the edge of the dance floor and whispered in my ear. "I'm sorry. I haven't been doing anything to lead her on or encourage any of them but they all seem to be behaving much the same." I couldn't say "It's okay" but I offered him a little reassurance. "So it's not just me then." When we asked Richie he grinned and, though his blush wasn't so obvious in the strobe lighting, we realised he was embarrassed to admit he'd been enjoying the attention. I didn't want to be the chaperone or the father but I needed some answers for my own peace of mind. I separated Prue from the herd. "What was happening with Howard out there?" I think she could tell I asked in concern and not anger. "The other girls were so busy checking him out whenever they had a chance I thought I'd better remind him who he was here with." "So all the bump and grind isn't premeditated?" "Premeditated? You think I want them getting that close to him?" "Then why?" She looked at me as if I was slow. Hadn't we had this conversation already? "Because he's one of the hottest guys in town. All three of you are - though I never said that about you, okay?" "We're all in our forties!" "So? You're experienced. You know how to treat a girl nice and, without being mercenary, you can afford to do more than these guys." She waved her hand to indicate the High School boys. I leaned over and pressed my cheek to hers. I doubted she wanted a kiss from her dad. "I just want you safe Prue." "Can't I be safe and happy?" What did that mean? "That would be good but perhaps for now safe is more important." "I like him, Dad." "Howard?" "Of course Howard!" "Can I suggest you ease off a little then, without upsetting you?" "Why?" "If you want someone to know you're interested, you don't scare him off by being too eager." She looked at me. Who was I? She'd expected a lecture when I started; instead she got advice - advice that made sense. She nodded. I patted her arm and we rejoined the others. From her look I knew I wasn't to say too much to Howard. The same obviously didn't apply to the huddle of teenage girls. "What's up?" "She just got carried away. Apparently we are minor celebrities tonight." "Well we aren't the only stars of the dance floor. While you've been chatting, we've been comparing notes. That taller boy over there..." "Yeah?" "He's had his tongue down the throats of three different girls at least while he's been out there and over in the shadows." I looked. There was a boy with two different girls. He had a hand on a butt cheek from each girl and I wasn't at all sure what the two girls were doing with the hands that were hidden between them. "And there are three or four pairs of girls that are doing more than dancing together. I'm thinking of signing up to supervise next year just for the show! It seems all they have to do is make sure no-one is drinking, doing drugs, or actually fornicating in the gym." "And they have to act as bouncers if any older guys try to gatecrash." "As opposed to them getting invited so they can be mauled by infants." "They didn't feel like infants squashed up against me." We laughed at Richie while agreeing whole-heartedly. Our daughters apparently came to an agreement while they discussed my conversation with Prue since all three behaved less brazenly and all three became more possessive of us, declining any further requests for us as partners even when they were feeling like sitting out a song. I still felt Shelley's breasts pressing against me when we danced but her groin only made the sort of casual contact with mine that would be normal when dancing. I somehow managed to keep from full erection though I went up and back to semi-hard quite often. Eventually there was only the last dance and it was super slow with the lighting dropped even lower than before. Having gotten out onto the dance floor we had to just stand where we were and sway. From the little I could see, this song was more for tonsil hockey. Shelley threaded her fingers together behind my neck and stepped left then right then back again. Her dancing mainly involved rubbing her chest against me. She added some weight to my neck and pulled me where she could talk into my ear. "Thank you for bringing me Jerry. You've made this a wonderful night." I turned slightly to say "You're welcome" but Shelley turned too and slid her arms around my neck instead of just her fingers. Before I knew it her tongue was between my open lips and - I blame the surprise - I was rubbing my tongue across it. I could have, should have, put my hands on her hips and pushed her away. I did eventually straighten but that was really only because Shelley had taken a break. "Wow. That was nice." I resisted her efforts to draw me back for another. I did have to work with the parents of many of those around me. "What? You didn't like it?" Shelley looked as though she felt she was a failure. "Too much. Yes, it was nice." "Good!" She rested her cheek against my collarbone and her arms slid over my shoulders to pin my arms where they were wrapped around her. Two seconds before the song ended some mischief-maker turned the lights on full. With my hand shielding my eyes I still managed to note Richie and Ange parting from a kiss of their own. I didn't search for Prue and Howard. I didn't really want to know and I think I would be happy if "what happens at Prom Night stays at the Prom!" Gloria made her way back to us with Adam in tow; he looked rather excited. "Mr Stevens, there is an After-Prom party and I wonder if you would mind dropping us off? My dad will pick us up about midnight." "You're sure?" Hell if I was going to get all protective about some teenage girl when I wasn't overly concerned about my own! "Yes. I wouldn't bother you but the boy who was going to take us left early and now we have no way of getting there unless we walk." "Where is it then?" It turned out to be reasonably close so I agreed. In a small town we tend to have a good idea who to trust and I knew Gloria's family. Besides I'd give her father a call when I got home, just in case. Young people had to be shown you trusted them to act responsibly - up until the point you found them doing otherwise. One advantage of not being there officially was that we didn't have to wait until everyone else had left and the place was secured. The girls said goodbye to their friends and we headed for the cars. Our dates had gone in on our arms - now they all wanted to hold our hands. Gloria and Adam sat in the back again and Shelley slid right over next to me. When there were some noises from the back that indicated the other couple were continuing the last dance she turned to watch and giggled. "Don't mind me - and Jerry has to keep *HIS* eyes on the road." I decided they would do whatever they were going to do whether I played the parent or not. I remembered what I got up to at that age. "Almost there." I heard a shuffling and "leave it" from Gloria. I pulled up and my extra passengers thanked me. "Could we just have a peak inside please Jerry? I don't want to stay but if someone says what it was like I'd know what they were talking about." I shrugged and turned the engine off. Shelley scooted out after me - I suspect to give her more opportunities to brush her tits against my arm and then my back. I recognised the name on the letter box and when we wandered down the driveway towards the noise and light at the back my sudden appearance caused Les Evans to straighten suddenly. "Mr Stevens! Welcome." "Thanks Les and it's Jerry. I've just dropped a couple more guests off for you and Shelley and I thought we'd have a look-see if you didn't mind. Must say you're a glutton for punishment though. He grinned. "Feel free to stay or have a look round. I figured I wasn't going to have too many more chances for my son to play host to his friends if he's off to college next year so this would do for a post-dance party and a graduation celebration. At least I don't have to worry about gate crashers like I hear they have in the city." "There are quite a few things I'm grateful for when I think about living here and the nature of our young'uns is one thing on the list. There were quite a few at the dance and I didn't notice anyone inebriated." Shelley sniggered beside me. "Well apparently I missed one (snigger) or two." She remained blessedly silent. "You expect a little disobedience. I've told them here that any hint of alcohol or weed and I shut the party down and call their parents. I know some of the parents couldn't care less what their kids are up to but I think those here are eager enough to stay to make sure they police themselves." He looked at Shelley with her arm through mine. "You can speak to them if you want." He couldn't understand her shyness - though it might have just been civility - not wanting to walk out on the adults while they were having a conversation. "I'm okay thanks. They can see me." She hugged my arm. "So I'm just on display, am I?" I teased. "I want them to be jealous." Les looked a little surprised. "This is your daughter?" "No. Shelley's my daughter's friend, or my friend's daughter. I'm her date tonight." I expected more surprise but I think his expression was one of admiration. "So - do you want to speak to anyone?" I asked. "No, I'm okay. I just heard the yard was going to be decorated and I wanted to have a look. Thank you Mr. Evans." "You're welcome and you can still stay." "Thanks," I returned, "but I think I'd only make them nervous." Les probably thought I was more eager to get Shelley on her own. Damn! I'd be squelching rumours for weeks. I shook his hand and we returned to the car. In an effort to get Shelley to sit on her side of the seat I opened her door for her. Once more, she planted a kiss on my lips and climbed in. She was in the middle sat and buckled up before I had my door open. The minx had also moved my seat belt under her leg so I then had to ask her to lift it up. While my fingers were beneath her she dropped lightly down - trapping my hand - then lifted again with an insincere apology. I started the car and Shelley leaned against me. She rested her head on my shoulder and dropped her hand onto my leg. "I don't think you should put your hand there, Shelley." "Well I can't hang onto your arm in case you need it and if I put it where I wanted to I'm sure we would have a crash." "Michelle!" "Oh, and you haven't been excited all night! What makes you think I'm any different?" "Twenty odd years." "So you can get hard about a girl 'twenty odd years' younger than you but I'm not allowed to get wet about a guy 'twenty odd years' older?" "You can get wet. You - We - aren't allowed to do anything about it." "You do know I'm 18 in a few weeks." "And I'm 44 so it's 26 years. That just means we would be allowed legally, not that we should." Shelley didn't remove her hand but she didn't move it anywhere worse. I pulled into my driveway - it was too late for the earlier nonsense. Both of the other couples were home already; I would walk Shelley to her door. "Jerry, I have a little thank you present. You've been a wonderful escort and I had a lovely time. You've put up with me and all the hussies - other hussies - teasing and exploring and I just want you to have something to remember tonight. I was halfway through saying it wasn't necessary when the spaghetti straps slid over her shoulders and Shelley pulled the front of her bodice down. She was most impressive and I never finished my sentence. I guess I just sat there in the car staring for a while. Shelley's giggles - and subsequent jiggles - brought me out of my trance and I suddenly remembered where I was. I looked at my house - good, no-one at the window wondering why I wasn't coming inside - and then around at Richie's. Whew! "You are lovely Shelley but I really think that's enough." "Only if *YOU* give me a kiss goodnight." Did I say she was a minx? I leaned forward, a willing victim of her blackmail, and kissed her. Shelley's tongue caressed mine as she opened her lips to admit it and when we parted she looked satisfied. "That was as nice as before. I thought you might limit me to just a peck." "Would you have been satisfied with that?" "No, but I might have let you get away with it. Would you like to get my door?" Moving around the car gave her time to settle everything back into place. She held my hand and stood with her face raised when we reached her doorstep. I bent forward and gave her another kiss, quickly backing away as I heard footsteps inside. Cass opened the door with a smirk on her face. "Trouble getting the seatbelt undone?" "Why, yes actually." "I'll bet." She left the door open and Shelley thanked me again. I went home and, as Shelley had probably intended, jacked off to the memory of her tits. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Day Of No Triffids Part: Chapter 4 Summary: In a world gone blind a few remaining sighted must try to preserve what they can but how will just 6 men manage to keep 400 women happy? Keywords: MFF, rom Language: English Copyright: 2003 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* *** August 28, 11:00 pm - Nancy A tired Nancy had found Fran and Paul a little way apart from their other friends. She would have to get them back together tomorrow; it was too much trouble now. "How are you settling in?" "Okay" "Not too bad", said Paul, "but I've been asked politely, with just a hint of a threat, to keep my prick away from Fran or any of the other women." "It'll only be until I'm pregnant then it will be okay" said Fran. "How are you coping?" she asked Nancy. "It's been a bitch of a day. I can't bear to see so many people who are going to die." She told them about the body in the liquor store and broke down crying. They both cuddled her as she sat on the mattress next to them. "There, there. It's been a bit of a shock all round but you came for us and are keeping us alive and things are going to work out. You'll see. It might be bad for a while but then it will be over and we will be looking to the future and the bad things will be in the past." Her sobbing eventually slowed and she sniffed. Paul had a handkerchief and apologised that it was rather crumpled. "You're not the first to cry today." Nancy wiped and then couldn't hide a yawn. "Hey you've worn yourself out. Where are you sleeping?" said Fran. "I've got a room a little way down the hall." "Well you should get there." Fran wanted her friend able to cope with the nasties she was likely to face in the near future and she wouldn't be able to if she got too tired. "I know but I don't want to be alone. Would you come with me?" "Me or us?" "Both silly. Would you?" "Of course." Paul added his agreement. Nancy stood and they fumbled around for their bowls before joining her. "We need to get you little bags of some sort to keep all your personal gear in. Something more for the whiteboard." "Whiteboard?" asked Paul. "Just an ideas list that anyone can add to. Uncle Len's going to go over them at breakfast. Our survival is going to be something we all have a say in. Come on." She led them back to what must have been the Principal's quarters. She had been allocated it by lot and managed to get a large lounge, a small private study and a reasonable bedroom with a double bed. More importantly for her weary body, the bathroom had a full length bath. Nancy described each room for her friends. "There's even a walk in robe. Hmm I wonder how you'd look in a black cassock?" "The bath is what you need then a good night's rest. Point me to it." It was strange to have Fran fussing over her like this but she did enjoy it and the blind woman soon had found the plug and got the water at a nice temperature. "Get undressed then." Nancy looked at Fran even though the other woman had no way of knowing. Then she realised that getting undressed in front of them was not going to be an issue. She sat Paul down on the edge of the bed and then turned to drop her clothes over the high back of a stool type chair apparently designed to keep one's suit tidy. Though he couldn't see her, Paul could hear each garment coming off and his mind filled in the pictures accompanying each swish or zip. He shifted slightly as the images caused a reduction in the blood flowing out of his organ and a resultant discomfort in his tight jeans. When Nancy turned back she was observant enough to notice the bulge. While not wanting to upset Fran she was adventurous enough to stir the handsome man up a little. Standing naked in front of him she first put her finger against his lips, warning him to be silent. He started at the unexpected contact but it did stop him doing more than jump when the finger then traced over the front of his jeans. He heard her turn away to join his girlfriend in the bathroom. Fran unnecessarily helped Nancy into the bath, something Nancy found comforting. She could understand how the landed gentry got to depend on all their household staff; having a personal maid could be both enjoyable and habit forming. Fran found the soap and a flannel and got Nancy to lean forward so she could wash her back. She was grateful that her friend had sought her out and that she was also willing to have Paul there. Fran felt she could cope having to become pregnant to someone else (the idea was a bit scary - she hadn't planned on motherhood for some time yet and she hoped she liked whoever she ended up with); at least Paul would be by her side. If doing little things for Nancy made Nancy's life easier then Fran felt she wasn't quite the imposition on her friend that she would have been otherwise. Nancy leaned back into the hot water and Fran, without a conscious decision, continued washing her front. The murmur from the darkness before her made her realise what she was actually doing. "Oh sorry. Here." She thrust the soapy flannel out in front of her. Her hand was pushed back to the soft breast. "No. It's nice. Please." It was hard for Nancy to actually ask another girl to touch her breasts, even with a wash cloth, but it felt too good to have her stop. Nancy had opened her eyes to see what her friend's reaction would be and noticed the dark patches on her top. "You're getting wet and we don't have any spare clothes yet, unless you DO want to wear a black cassock. Why don't you take them off? Hell, if I scoot up you can get in with me. You probably need a good soak too and it would be silly to wait until the water's cold. We can get Paul to wash your back if you like; let him earn his keep." Nancy regretted her last comment as soon as she had spoken. Everyone before the disastrous events of the last couple of months had had to earn their keep some way but now the simple comment seemed more hurtful. Paul's options were now far more restricted, as they were for them all. Fran took it to heart though, not condemning her friend for the observation which she realised was not intended to reflect their dire straits but rather realising THEY would have to find some way to support those who supported them now. At the very least it would help defeat the boredom of simply uselessly sitting around. She stripped off in front of her friend, dropping her clothes by the wall she orientated herself by, and turned to find the side of the bath with outstretched hands. Nancy was appreciative. "You look lovely. Paul is a lucky man." Fran was helped into the bath and sat between Nancy's legs, her cool back against the damp breasts she had just washed. "Unfortunately, looks aren't going to count for much any more." Nancy realised her friend needed comforting and put her arms around her, hugging her as she rested her cheek against the short dark hair. "It doesn't matter. You and Paul are here now. I will try to keep you safe and I WILL try to remember to tell you how lovely you both are from time to time so you don't forget." She looked over at the doorway. "Paul! We need you in here!" When she heard him stand she added, "You had better take your clothes off there. You're likely to get them wet." A surprised naked man carefully felt his way towards the sound of their voices. He had heard them talking but couldn't make out the words. When he stood in the doorway, a hand on each door jamb, Nancy couldn't resist a cheeky whistle. She laughed as she hugged Fran again. "Looks like you might be the lucky one after all." Fran put her hand on the other girls arm as it lay across her chest. "He isn't bad, is he." She assumed Nancy was getting a full frontal. "We'd better not tell him though or he'll get a swollen head." Nancy laughed again, relaxing and reinvigorated in their company. "I'd say it wasn't his head that was swollen." Paul turned around. "If I'm going to be the butt of your jokes maybe that's all I'll show you." "Don't be a spoilsport. Come over here. Fran needs someone to wash her back and you're elected." Carefully Paul crossed the strange bathroom and knelt by the side of the tub. Nancy put the freshly re-soaped wash cloth in his hand and he reached out hesitantly to find his girlfriend. Fran had leaned forward and Nancy back to give him room but as he found his target and went to work Nancy straightened slightly so that the back of his hand brushed across her nipples. Once again he kept his silence, uncertain whether his acquiescence constituted a betrayal of his girlfriend's trust. Fran wasn't stupid. She sensed how the pressure against her back varied, how he paused to circle his hand occasionally - always over each shoulder blade, how Nancy's thighs gripped just a little tighter. Her first thought wasn't jealousy. She was instead a little worried about the future. Nancy had said Paul would be valued because as an electrician he would be able to instruct them when they needed power. Nancy was also apparently interested in him which was understandable considering the shortage of men. Did she need Fran? Would she simply take Paul and let Fran be passed from one cousin, or uncle, or even her father, to another? Fran was determined that she and Paul would remain together and was willing to do whatever was necessary to achieve that. She had been prepared to die with him rather than to leave him behind; she could share him if necessary, at least with Nancy. Fran moved her hands a little further up the sides of Nancy's leg from where they had been resting and pressed them against her sides as she leaned back to trap Paul's hand between their bodies. It was a tacit, though unspoken, approval for him to touch the other woman's body without fear of her disfavour. Nancy put her arms around Fran again and squeezed her, Paul's hand still trapped between hard back and soft front. His erection grew unseen beside the bath. "Fran's already made sure they're clean. You had better wash hers." Nancy released Fran and leaned back again so Paul could retrieve his hand. She took Fran's shoulders and pulled her gently back against herself as she slipped a little lower down into the water. "It's lucky this is an old school. The bathtub is gi- normous compared to ours at home." Fran's head nestled between the other girl's mounds as she lay immersed with her knees bent. It did feel good to have a hot soak. She had only had showers in the last few days and, though a shower with Paul was a very pleasant experience, there was nothing like a hot tub for relaxing. Paul soaped up the wash cloth again having felt the soap fall as the girls rearranged themselves. With plenty of suds he began to smother her chest and belly. He was a bit self-conscious that Nancy was there and could see him. Not normally concerned about his nudity before others (certainly not before Fran nor with sporting team-mates) he never-the-less kept wondering if she was looking at him or at Fran or at what he was doing or simply if she was simply just lying there with her eyes closed. The imagination can be a powerful thing. Working his way down to Fran's pubes he collided with a hand on his way back up again. He'd noticed Fran's arms beside her though he didn't notice her gently stroking Nancy's legs. Obviously the digits splayed across his girlfriend's tits were not her own! He hadn't complained about a touch on his cock so he supposed he couldn't very well complain if his girlfriend was getting the equivalent. He did wish fervently that he could get his sight back, if only for an hour. The wash cloth moved down over the taut clean belly and then along the ascending trail of Fran's leg. He moved along the side of the tub until he could reach her foot and started to rub the sole. "Oh, that's lovely." He hoped Fran's praise was directed at him. When he paused he was rewarded with "Don't stop love" and then "Yes, you will have to do Nancy's next" when he continued. He kneaded the flesh tenderly and stroked each slender toe in turn. When that foot was done he reached across the tub for the other. He could capture the end of that limb ("Oh how beautiful it had been to look at them") but the angle stretching across was inconvenient. Nancy noticed. "Why not sit on the end of the bath?" Paul stood and reached along. The bath ended in a narrow tiled edge that was just wide enough to allow him to sit though both tiles and the wall pressing against his back were chilly. "Still", he thought, "it's just one of the many sacrifices a man must make." He reached down and lifted Fran's foot to rest on his lap. What he didn't consider was the view he provided to Nancy as she looked directly down the bath and between his parted legs. Silently she congratulated her friend on her choice of boyfriend and then included herself as one of the lucky ones, she hoped. As she watched she absently continued to play with the soft mounds on Fran's chest. They had flattened as she lay back but were by no means boyish. Nancy had started with just a casual touch, "accidental" as she brushed her arm past. She was encouraged by Fran's initial action in washing her tits and when Fran gave no indication that her attentions were not welcome she gradually increased the sexual nature of her caresses. She had had a brief experimental experience with another girl friend but both had shied away before it had gotten serious. It had spoilt their friendship a little, more because the other girl had begun to feel guilty and had turned to more "normal" relationships. Within three months she was pregnant and discarded. A sympathetic Nancy with no ulterior motives had been rejected when she called to see how the gravid girl was and that had simply been that. She hoped Fran would not feel the same way, though Nancy could have lived with an initial rejection if that had been how things had turned out. Paul let Fran's foot slide back into the water and Fran thanked him. "Nancy's turn now." She felt along the leg and tried to lift it past her hips. Not exactly wide they did provide a barrier to the easy passage of the other girl's limbs. "Let me get out. You'll have more room and I'm washed anyway." Nancy gave a half-hearted protest and let her up. "There are two towels just in front of you; a bit further. I'll have to see if there are some more somewhere." She turned back to Paul. "You may as well sit down in the water." She lifted her legs onto the sides of the bath and Paul lowered himself into the still warm water. His hands found her legs just before the ring on the top of the plug found his ass cheek. He gave a little jump, pressing down painfully on Nancy's shins. "Sorry." "No, I'm sorry you got the plug end." Paul took the smooth limbs and lay them across his own legs and rubbed the spots where he had hurt her. At least it was a distraction from sharing a bath with one woman while another, and his girlfriend at that, was drying herself just an arms length away. He remembered his "job" and took one of Nancy's feet into his hands. Nancy looked at the long delicate fingers as they soothed her aches. "Looks like it is true what they say about the length of a man's fingers." Fran had dried herself and knelt beside them with the towel thrown over her shoulders. "What's that?" "Oh. Just that they are proportional to a certain other body part." "I certainly can't comment on the general principle but I agree it does seem to apply to him." She reached out to find his hand as it massaged Nancy's toes and then reached down with a keen sense of direction and found his cock, erect. "Oh! No! Much longer than his fingers." He pushed her hand away. "She said 'proportional' dearest. That's doesn't mean they are the same length." "She might have meant when it wasn't sticking up like that." Paul suddenly realised Nancy was able to see his erection and, while he personally had never felt anything but pride in its size, the discussion did have a deleterious effect on it; if your blood rushes to your blushing cheeks it is inevitable - it can't be in two places at once. "Oh now look what you've done", Nancy chided her friend. "What?" Fran reached back and found her fellow's phallus. "See it is the same size as your finger. Well length anyway. Your finger is much thinner. Oh here it comes again." With her touch, stroking really, the limp prick began to surface again, protruding from the water like the periscope of a bath toy. "I suppose I'd better get that clean too." "Let me get out and we can both give him a wash. He deserves it for those marvellous foot rubs." She disengaged herself before sitting up and then standing. "Scoot you ass around this end. You can lay back and I guarantee there are no plugs to sit on." She took the other towel and quickly dried herself off as she watched the man turn around in the tub. As Fran started to scrub him down Nancy checked a narrow cupboard and found a supply of towels and wash cloths. Taking one of each she hung up the towel before kneeling next to Fran and pinching the soap. Fran had his torso so Nancy would start at his toes and work her way up. She wondered who would get to do his "proportion". The two girls teased him and each other and found themselves increasingly comfortable with the unusual situation. At one point Fran reached up and found Nancy's chin. Cupping it she leaned in and gave her a brief kiss on the lips. As she turned back to her boyfriend Nancy put a damp arm around her and gave her a hug while she rested her head on Fran's shoulder. Nothing was said and Paul missed both events being busy talking at the time. "I think he's clean enough. His feet are starting to wrinkle and I'm getting cold sitting here." The damp towels had been okay initially but the girls had inevitably gotten wet again as they washed the man. The night air, though free of draughts ,was cooling as was the water in the tub. Fran suppressed a shiver and agreed. Nancy reached between the wrinkled skin on his feet and pulled out the plug then passed the towel to Fran before taking Paul's hand and helping him out of the bath. It was too cool for the trio to do more than give and receive a brisk rub down. Paul would have liked the opportunity for a bit of fondling but that was not to be. He was told to "Put your hands up", "Put them down", "Spread your legs - wider" and that was it. He wasn't even sure who had wielded the towel around his balls and up the crack of his ass. "Come on", said Nancy, discarding the towels in the now empty bath and pushing them ahead of her through the walk in robe and dressing area and out into the bedroom. The click of the light switch was the only indication that the illumination had changed. Black remained black. Nancy stood them facing the bed and picked up Paul's clothes. These were thrown over a chair as she walked around to the other side of the double bed. "Get in before you freeze", she said. "It will be a bit of a squeeze but it's only for a few hours and then I can try to organise something else. That is if you want to stay with me." As she climbed in between the sheets she felt she had to add, "You don't have to. I really am happy that you are keeping me company tonight but it's not something you have to commit to, especially right this minute. Sleep on it." The pair of lovers each decided not to make a commitment without having a chance to speak with their partner. Fran pushed Paul into the middle of the bed and got in after him. "Oh it's cold", she said. "Cuddle up then" said Paul, who would benefit from the warmth of two bodies once they had taken the chill out of the bed. The young women hastened to comply. Nancy held Fran's hand as they both rested their heads on Paul's chest. "If you two want to ..., you know, it's all right with me." Fran shook her head, a difficult task when it was resting on a manly chest. "We can't. I promised I wouldn't get pregnant to Paul and I'm around about my fertile days so it's a bit risky unless you've got some contraceptives?" She "looked" up, or rather tilted her head towards his face. "No. We used the last of them. Sorry." "I'll see if I can find something tomorrow. I just didn't want to think of Paul lying here with blue balls after all our teasing." Paul laughed. "I haven't had blue balls since early puberty. There's always other solutions." "Oh?" said Nancy innocently. "Like what?" Paul wasn't sure where the conversation was leading and just how much leeway he had. Before he could respond though Fran spoke up. "If you two want to ..., you know, it's all right with me." Hearing her own words shocked Nancy slightly but the effect was nowhere near as great as on Paul. His own girlfriend was telling him to screw her friend? Fran noticed him stiffen. "I just thought we got on well together and you and I can't have sex for a while. I have to get pregnant to someone else, please find someone nice for me Nancy, and if Nancy wants to get pregnant maybe she would like you as the father?" Nancy thought about the offer before replying. "I don't know about getting pregnant yet. It sounds a bit selfish when YOU have to; and you don't get a say. I'm on the pill; I've kept taking them and I suppose I can find more when they run out so I won't get pregnant right now. My uncle said an extra pair of eyes is probably more important just now and I think he is probably right." "I do like Paul though and I will admit I wouldn't mind making love with him, but he is your boyfriend and I don't want to mess that up. I'd rather have you both as friends and find someone else if I have to." "There isn't really a lot of choice", pointed out Fran. "Thank you very much", said Paul. "Shut up", said Fran giving him a gentle thump on the chest. "Yes", said Nancy, "we were talking about you, not to you. Now be a good boy and rub my back just above my shoulder blade please." Paul did as he was told. He didn't really think he was being treated as the only choice available. Nancy could always go hunting for a suitable male, or more of them, for herself - provided she didn't leave it too long. He also wasn't opposed to the idea of being shared but he too didn't want to damage his relationship with Fran. He did love her and though Nancy was, from memory, attractive and felt decidedly nice against his body, if he had to choose between them it wouldn't be a hard decision and Fran would be the winner. "If you like him, and he's agreeable, why not at least ease your tensions tonight. I can vouch for him; and he is house-broken." Nancy looked up through the dark room at the profile next to her face. He sensed her attention and simply said, "I find you attractive. I find you desirable. I love Fran and so long as you realise that she will always be number one for me I would like to make love with you if that is what you want." His left arm, around Fran, held his girlfriend tight against him during the statement. He DID love her and she needed to know that. If Nancy needed him he would be there for her as she had been there for them, and in time he may love her too, but he loved Fran, now and for always. Nancy's reply was quiet but not unexpected, "I'd like that too." A decision had been made but it's implementation was just as complex. Fran was prepared to sit in the study with a rug around her until they had finished but Nancy pleaded with her to stay. "You are my friend and I don't want you to feel like I'm stealing your man. I want you to be a part of it with us. Paul loves you though he's willing to help me. If I can share your love it makes it special, otherwise I may as well just jill myself and we can let Paul wank off in the bathroom. Please stay and help me too." Fran stayed. She moved over to the side of the bed so her friend could climb over Paul and, once he too had moved, Nancy lay down in the middle of the bed. Fran snuggled against her side and waited for her boyfriend to lay over the woman she was about to share him with. Paul wasn't in a hurry to start screwing. He didn't know if this was a once only occurrence or whether this was the start of a lasting relationship. He did know that giving anything but his best would lessen him in the eyes of all three of them. He lay down next to Nancy and put his hand on her belly. Feeling Fran's close by he found it and held it while he nuzzled Nancy's shoulder and neck. Fran had laid her head back down as she had on Paul and found her cheek resting against the soft tissues of Nancy's left breast. She held her lover's hand and squeezed it encouragingly when she heard the sound of his kiss being met and returned. It started a fire in her own loins which surprised her; she thought she might get upset or at least be completely neutral. She turned her head and kissed the soft flesh; another woman's breast! Fran had thought about sex with another woman. It was hard not to with actresses coming out and films or TV shows with lesbian characters and girls obviously more than just friends at the mall. But she hadn't ever found someone she was comfortable enough with to consider it and then Paul had entered her life and sex with ANYONE else was no longer on the agenda. Until now. Circumstances had changed. Had they ever! Her friend had shown an interest in her, one she did NOT find the least repulsive. In fact the gentle caresses in the bath had been very nice and Fran would have liked them to continue longer. Nancy's hand, though softer and her touch gentler, hadn't really differed much from Paul's. Paul had apparently been comfortable in touching Nancy's tits and must have noticed Nancy touching hers yet he hadn't said anything. She had heard him comment favourably on some girl-girl scenes in a porno video (though she hadn't seen it and now never would) and so supposed he wouldn't object, unless it was because it was HIS girl in the girl-girl scene. He certainly hadn't seemed the type to be threatened by it. She supposed she would just have to suck it and see, literally. Nancy had pleaded with her to "help me too"; was that what she had meant? Fran kissed the breast again but this time searched around for the nipple she knew had to be there somewhere. "Ah! Got it!" Her lips parted and she moistened them with her tongue. She seized the nipple between those wet lips and gently sucked. It slid in until the mound blocked off further entrance. With a flick of her tongue she released her hold. The lips parted and the pressure dropped allowing the breast, and its now firmer protuberance, to return to its former position. This was fun! Nancy, with Paul's tongue in her mouth, felt the same. He had placed his hand over her breast and was gently kneading the firm orb while their lips were locked together. He hadn't yet realised the part his girlfriend was playing in the evening's amusement but it wouldn't be long! Nancy had an arm around the other girl and hugged her to show she liked what Fran was doing. Her other hand was by her side and she wriggled it below Paul who lifted to allow her access to his balls. The soft furry sack filled her hand and the hard prick pressed against her forearm. "How long IS it?" Nancy asked herself. She wiggled her arm again and measured it against the width of her palm. There was still a little left after she had measured off two "grips" at the awkward angle available; she would have to measure it one day, for purely scientific purposes of course, but the actual length was not of great importance at just that moment. She hadn't had a hard cock in her for quite a while. She had a little vibrator but that wasn't the same. To feel the muscles of her vagina spread and clench around the massaging organ, the weight of a male body suspended over her, the rising passion and the final release, both male and female, was something only poorly imitated by the thin plastic substitute. Holding firmly to his hardness, Nancy drew Paul closer to her. He understood her want, though he had thought she would have preferred more stimulation; Fran always had. As he moved his body closer to her he was surprised to bump his hip against her slowly moving hand. He released the breast he had been tenderly manipulating and reached out. There was Fran, and an arm, obviously Nancy's; he felt for her head and found it closer than he thought. The understanding didn't shock him, it was one of his unspoken fantasies after all, but he did wish that he was able to see as well as feel the action beside him. Fran moved back as Nancy gave her a couple of quick taps. She figured that was what Nancy meant; it was certainly a different signal than the pressure applied to the centre of her back when she had tentatively rested her hand on the trimmed patch of curls. Fran was used to touching herself but had never even seen a crotch shot of another woman. The diagrams in medical brochures were stylised line drawings which gave no indication of the variation between women. The surprising difference in feel excited her and encouraged her to explore further, giving pleasure to the object of her study in much more than an incidental manner. As Paul lifted himself between Nancy's parting legs, Fran reached up to hold his knob. Her fingers touched Nancy's just as they were releasing their own hold and Fran briefly gripped them before they were withdrawn and Paul's abdomen descended to cover her friend's. Knowing what it was like to have Paul inside her, Fran was briefly, but intensely jealous. The acceptance of their fate changed this more to envy. She wished with all her heart that she could be lying in Nancy's place; the idea of Nancy still being by her side hovered through her mind as she recognised the movements of her lover as he prepared himself for penetration. Lying beside them she could not miss the thrust and matching ascent of female hips. Nancy's arm was still around her and she was pulled in against both bodies. Paul was still kissing Nancy but as their lips parted he turned his face towards her. Poorly positioned, she moved up the bed slightly, reluctantly having to get Nancy to remove her encircling arm. With her face now level with their's she was able to receive the kiss from her lover's now shared lips. His tongue caressed hers and she put a hand behind his head to delay the inevitable parting of their lips. Nancy's hand joined hers and pushed Paul's head against Fran's. She might be borrowing Fran's boyfriend, perhaps on a long-term basis, but she certainly didn't want to steal him. When the two women let him up Nancy turned her own face to Fran and their lips met for a tender kiss. This grew more passionate for Paul, hearing and feeling their kiss, began to pump harder as his imagination took control of his loins. His thrusts caused Nancy's mouth to jerk against Fran's and their tongues were forced apart only to seek the delicious contact again and again. His pubes ground against Nancy and stimulated her clit as he forced his prick deep inside the hot wet hole. When he arched his back before collapsing in happy exhaustion over her she too found her body trembling with a wave of pleasure. She wrapped her arm around his back to hold him close and kissed the side of his face. Fran was able to kiss the other side. They lay there for a little while before Nancy had to get up. She gave them both a quick kiss and a heartfelt but simple "Thank you" before ducking into the bathroom. She returned a few minutes later and helped Paul into the bathroom from where he had been sitting with his hand stroking Fran's hair. He assured her he could find his way back after she put his hand on towel rail and basin and she climbed back into the now warm bed. She cuddled Fran again. "Are you all right? You don't mind?" "A little but I realise things have changed. I don't suppose I'd really love him if I didn't mind a bit. It was nice to be here with you though. Thank you for letting me stay." "I wouldn't have wanted you anywhere else and after you started sucking on my tit and rubbing my pussy I don't think you would have been able to leave. It was very nice." Nancy was sleepy but realised her friend had "sat" through a very erotic encounter, contributing to Nancy's pleasure but failing to get any herself. It didn't seem fair. When Paul felt his way back to the bed Nancy kept Fran in the middle and got Paul to take the bathroom side of the bed. "I think we owe Fran something for her patience, don't you?" Paul thought how best to please his lover. "If you take heads, I'll take tails... this time." Nancy hadn't thought about eating Fran's pussy. Now Paul had implied that it would happen she found herself imagining it. "Hmm maybe. Yes a definite maybe." Paul got partly out of the bed so he could kneel between her legs. He spread them as he kissed his way up from her knees finally planting a big kiss on the top of her furry triangle. The scent of her arousal spread through his senses and, like Pavlov's dogs, his saliva began to flow in anticipation of the gustatory delight awaiting him. He was unaware of what was going on "upstairs" but hoped Nancy was enjoying finding ways to please Fran as well. He needn't have worried. Knowing what she liked, Nancy applied the same to Fran and was soon snuggled up under her arm with a tit in her mouth and a hand on the other. Fran was having fun. The big problem with having only one lover attending to your needs was the limitation in how many places they could attend to at once. Fran was now experiencing the pleasure that she had, in the past, had to provide herself. Paul's tongue in her cunt was a good second choice if she couldn't have his prick. Her parents hadn't been too pleased that he was a few years older; if she had been older herself the age difference wouldn't have mattered to them but she was their "innocent" and he was the "seducing man of the world". The funny part was that she had effectively seduced him, not that it was hard, but he initially had been "hunting" someone else. It was a seduction he had not regretted and he thanked his lucky stars that he had been stranded at her parents' house when the world went to pieces. Initially faced with certain death, he had found that Fran was willing to accept her own if she couldn't save him too. Then he expected he would have to live as a gigolo, surviving on the crumbs from Nancy's table; the reality instead was that he could expect to have the loving attention (if not actual love) from two sensuous women that he ENJOYED being with. A gigolo's life maybe but at least one where he had his self-respect. And if his professional skills could actually help the group then he would be able to hold his head up high. Now he concentrated on the thick syrupy flow that threatened to engulf him. Fran had always, in the few months they had been together, produced copious quantities of lubrication. In fact she often had to rinse the tell-tale starchiness from her knickers before letting her mother have them to wash. On one occasion he had taken her into a restaurant after describing what he planned for "afters" and a number of fellow diners had looked up sniffing the delightful scent as she passed wondering whether it was someone's perfume or some special dish which a waiter had just brought from the kitchen. The ancient Greeks had a name for it; Ambrosia, the food of the gods. At least that's how Paul thought of the juicy treat. He wasted no time in cleaning up the musky fluid that threatened to leave the bed damp. Many were the times when he had returned from taking her home to find his bed too uncomfortably cold to lay in. And it was the men who got the blame for the wet spot! In doing so he probed at the source with his tongue and ran it along the hair-lined furrow to tickle the clitoral bump in a motion that Fran found irresistible. Fran needed to kiss someone as her passions soared and Nancy was the nearest one; besides she had no intention of interrupting Paul. She pulled the other woman away from her breast and leech-like fastened her mouth to Nancy's. Nancy found the forceful nature of Fran's response to their attentions to be rather overpowering. She had experienced a man's single-mindedness as he approached orgasm but in the past had been so caught up in her own that she hadn't appreciated how a woman could be every bit as insistent. She didn't mind one iota. Paul and Fran had delivered a fantastic "good" to her and she was determined to return the favour. It was fortunate that Fran kept her nails short as her fingers were pressed painfully into Nancy's back while she gasped expletives into her mouth. Paul had found the particular right spot for the moment, something that differed depending on how they had been making love and for how long, and every stimulating action served only to push her higher. The Earth did seem to move for all three of them that night but it was "merely" the wild thrashing of Fran's body as she was held by her two companions. Their mattress moved on the bed and Nancy looked forward to Paul taking her to similar heights. It had to be possible; it wasn't something that nature would only let Fran experience would it? The spasms and hugs eased and Paul crawled back up into the bed to hug the now shivering woman as she recovered from one of the best experiences in her short sex life. He leaned across to kiss his accomplice and Nancy tasted the obvious flavour of a woman. "Yes", she thought, "it WILL be my turn at 'tails' next time." They settled down together and let the after-sex soporific effects take them into a well earned rest. ***************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Day Of No Triffids Part: Chapter 9 Summary: In a world gone blind a few remaining sighted must try to preserve what they can but how will just 6 men manage to keep 400 women happy? Keywords: mff, MFF, oral, inc (cousins), exhibition, voy, rom Language: English Copyright: 2003 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* *** August 29 am - Michael With Michael fixed up it was finally possible to consider giving the women their long-deferred bath. Michael was prepared to supervise but the doctor who had instructed David in the care of his brother's injury didn't want him to risk getting his scalp wet yet. He would be allowed to sit with them but Nancy would have to be on hand for any emergencies. She was still upset over the incident and having to supervise the group would prevent her brooding over it. Leaving David and Nancy to get them organised, Michael went off to see how Rachel and Stacey were getting on. He had left them sleeping when he and Nancy had gone out but by now they should be awake and would probably be hungry. As he walked to the door he heard David's announcement to the people in the gym. "Attention please. We have set up the pool as a bathing area and if you would all like to get ready we'll take you there now. Please leave your clothes on your bed, we have some robes for you when you get there. You will be able to feel your way and there are toilets there if you need them." There was some commotion as the women, and an occasional man, discussed stripping in front of David and whoever else was there but Michael left that behind as he headed for his room. He opened the door and found the bed unmade and empty. "Rachel?" "In here." He headed into the bathroom and found Rachel and Stacey at opposite ends of the bath, knees up. "Stacey, this is my cousin Michael." "Hello Stacey. You're looking much better this morning." Stacey gave a weak smile. She had put her arm across her chest and had closed her legs when he had called out to her friend. She felt awkward to be in the bath with a stranger present in the room; at least with Rachel they were old friends, and more. Michael was different, and then there was that strange dream. "Hello Michael. Thank you for coming for me." "You should thank Rachel, she insisted we check if you were all right." "I did." "Now, are you sleepy-heads hungry?" "Starving", said Rachel before thinking of her friend's recent state. "Oops" "Yes thank you." Stacey hadn't noticed the faux pas. She had been unable to feed herself following an unsuccessful attempt to join her family in their suicide pact. She hadn't wanted to die but there had seemed no hope and she had taken the tablets shared out. When the stories of the illness had started spreading her parents had sought scripts for strong sedatives from an obliging doctor friend and had filled them at a number of stores. Stacey would have joined them in their permanent sleep except she had vomited up a large proportion of the capsules before they had had a chance to take effect. Narrowly avoiding choking she had collapsed and had been so weakened and dazed by the cocktail of drugs that she had been able to do little other than fall off of the bed she had intended to share with her little sister. It had been there that she had been found by the pair now in the room with her. "I'll take you down when you're ready." Rachel stood up. "Dry me off then." Michael wrapped a towel around his cousin as she stood in the tub. As his arms passed behind her she wrapped hers around him and drew him in for a hug. "Thank you for a lovely evening too. When can we do it again?" Used to sharing confidences, Stacey had been told about Rachel's new "arrangement" with her cousin but hadn't expected her to be quite so open about it. She heard her friend's giggle as she was lifted out of the bath and a hum of pleasure through the sounds of a kiss before Michael responded. "I'd love to now but I think we'd better wait until tonight." Rachel pouted. "Spoilsport. You'd better make the wait worthwhile." Michael rubbed her down, enjoying the feel and sight of her young body. "Go on then. I've brought you a bath robe; it's on the bed. Do you want me to dry you too Stacey?" When Stacey hesitated over her answer Rachel butted in. "You'd better let him. You're steadier but you don't want to fall over because you're trying to do too much too soon and besides, he's already seen all you've got. He's also got a tender touch." Grinning to herself, she felt her way back to the bed and found the robes. Stacey was blushing from her chest to her scalp. Okay, Michael and Rachel HAD gotten her cleaned up apparently but she thankfully hadn't been aware of it at the time. Now her so-called friend was encouraging her to expose herself to the young man. Rachel might be comfortable with him but Stacey only knew him as Rachel's cute relative she had seen once when she had been around Rachel's and his family had come visiting. She had a feeling that she would like him but wasn't sure if that was simply gratitude for being rescued. She just wasn't ready. "Can I have a towel please?" "Certainly." Michael got a dry towel and held it in front of the girl. Stacey held it over her front as she stood with Michael's hand on her arm. When she was up he reached behind her to wrap the end around, handing it to her to secure around the front again. "I think it's safer if I lift you out. You're no heavier than Rachel and I can manage her. Okay?" "Okay" Michael put his hands on her waist and lifted her up and over the edge. Stacey put her hands on his shoulders and leaned forwards which unfortunately pressed her chest against his face. Michael gallantly neglected to mention it but Stacey's cheeks and shoulders reddened again. When she blushed it involved a major portion of her body! Michael put her hand on the towel rail. "Hold on here for a minute." He pulled out the plug and then knelt with another towel and began to dry Stacey's legs. He dried each foot then worked his way up her left leg. "Say when." Stacey let him reach just above her knee before issuing a shaky "w-when". Michael let the hem of her wrap-around drop and started on the right leg. Whether Stacey was expecting him to stop at the same height or was more comfortable in his presence or was simply enjoying being pampered, she failed to comment as he worked his way past her knee and was rubbing the towel over her inner thigh. With a sudden realisation she hastily interrupted him, "Stop! Er, When!" Michael chuckled as he let her leg go. He stood and dried her back and shoulders then passed the towel under her chin and lifted it slightly while he planted a very chaste kiss on her lips. "I'm glad you're all right and I hope you'll be happy here. I'll get your robe and you can dry the bits I missed. Will you be okay?" Stacey gave him an embarrassed hug before saying, "Thank you. Yes." Michael hung the robe over the towel rail where Stacey could reach it and returned to the bedroom. He decided Stacey's company would be worth cultivating and he didn't want to put her off by rushing her. He figured a little kindness, some unforced signs of affection, and possibly a little example from Rachel, and she would be willing to join them. Rachel hadn't mentioned her own experiences with Stacey to him so he was unaware of how close the two girls actually were. Rachel was sitting on the bed with the robe open. "You look good enough to eat." She lay back and spread her legs. "You are all talk!" Michael proved he wasn't. Her pussy was freshly cleaned and there was no sign of the juices he found so tasty. He looked at her exposed pussy and reached forward to spread her lips. It was different in the daytime. Rachel had spread herself wide to give him access and he had now spread the petals that covered the entrance to her centre of womanhood. Like a bee drawn to the nectar at the centre of a flower, Michael's tongue was drawn to the source of her liquid honey. He searched and found none; his tongue quested seeking the pleasant sustenance and, by it's actions, brought it forth in copious quantity. He buried his mouth against the fur lined cup and drank deeply, his attentions rewarded by the sweet outflow. Engaged in his cousin's cuntal secretions he failed to hear the hesitant approach and Stacey bumped into his back, one hand landing on his head and the other on Rachel's thigh as she stumbled forward. "Are you all right Stace?" asked Rachel. It was Michael who was more in need of care at that point though. Stacey had put her hand directly on the bandage that he had until then managed to keep away from Rachel's touch. His scalp was tender and her hand had pulled at the stitches slightly, fortunately not enough to cause him further injury. Stacey straightened and felt Michael turn towards her as she stepped back. He took her hand to steady her. "Yes. Sorry. Are you all right Michael?" "Yes, I'm okay", said Michael. He stood and led her towards the bed beside the other girl. "Have a seat for a minute." As Michael tenderly checked his head Stacey felt the bed and sat down. She noticed Rachel was still laying across the bed. "I suppose we had better go and get something to eat", said Rachel, wishing her friend had taken a little longer to dry herself. "Oh, well", she thought, "I didn't really expect to get that much." She sat up and took her friend's hand. "Come on then. You ready for some breakfast?" "Lunch", corrected Michael who had decided he would, once again, survive. "Lunch then." "Yes" said Stacey. Rachel stood and tugged on her friend's hand. She was mischievous and wanted to boast about her activities without actually mentioning them. "First we should give Michael a big kiss to say thank you." She grabbed her cousin as he stood in front of her and planted her lips on his. Her own scent filled her nostrils and she avoided wiping off any of the moist coating around his mouth. Her kiss made a drawn out exaggerated noise before she straightened and pushed her cousin onto her friend. "Er, thank you Michael." Stacey leaned forward with lips puckered hoping that Michael would actually kiss her and not leave her waiting in a stupid pose. Michael wouldn't have let the opportunity pass for such a poor reason and he met her kiss with a little more effort than their previous peck. He made no attempt to engage her tongue but he did detect her inhalation and noticed her tongue pass over her lips when they both straightened. She looked a little puzzled and then he saw the light bulb go off over her head. "That's quite all right. It is a pleasure to serve two such charming, and lovely, ladies." As he turned to offer his arms to them he noticed Stacey's tongue flicker out once more to lick around her mouth. It seemed she found the taste on his lips interesting too. ----- Nancy stood by the pool door. They had found a wedge and she had secured it and waited for the people to cross the space of about 10 metres between the two buildings. It was cool but the partitions David and she had erected kept the wind down. It would make them appreciate the warm water more. David was organising the naked assemblage at the gymnasium end of the line. Some took the opportunity to go to the bathroom while the others got ready, figuring there might be a rush at the other end. David got the ones who had stripped off quickly moving along the guide rope where he then assisted them to the door. He took the opportunity to review the different shapes and sizes and the odd surprises as the women and a couple of men passed by. There were some interesting "hair cuts", a range of tattoos that normally would have been well hidden and an occasional piercing that had him wondering. For someone who had rarely had a chance to look at porno mags and whose first and only experience of a woman's body had been during the previous evening, the parade was a revelation. Even the half dozen men provided examples of the variation in the human form. David greeted each person as they went past, introducing himself to those he found "interesting". At some stage he would have to "take" or at least get to know in a biblical sense a sizable number of these women. If they had some say in the choice he hoped a good impression may make them remember him when the time came. "Hello." "Hi, I'm David." "I like your tattoo." He recognised the doctor, not quite as formidable in his mind now her official attire was discarded. In fact she looked quite nice, considering she was probably fifteen years older than him. Still Vicki, a little further down the line he saw, was eight years older and she had been fantastic. He had had one teacher; the doctor had talked about him learning medicine from her, perhaps she could teach him some other things too? The women passed by and when Vicki, his former geography teacher and first lover, came up he gave her a hug and got her to stand next to him for a little while. Between encouraging people to follow the wall to his voice and greeting them he spoke briefly to his carnal instructor. Caressing her bare ass he asked "Have you been okay? I'm sorry I've been a bit busy this morning. (Hi I'm David. Just put your hand on the partitions and walk across. Nancy will meet you there.)" Vicki gave him a hug. "I've been talking to some of my colleagues. I've told them what a good lover you are." She paused while he "processed" a few more people. "I can't wait to show you some more things." David gave her a kiss. He would like that too but he also wanted to try out some others. He was young enough to be able, and willing, to do both. "Hi Mom." Now that was embarrassing. He had wondered what his mother would look like naked; now he knew. "Certainly nothing to be ashamed of", he thought. His sister followed her. "Hi Ellen." She poked her tongue out in his general direction. He gave her a pat on the rump as she passed by and she turned to display her tongue again. She couldn't get told off for being childish when only her little brother could see. David enjoyed his sister's display and barely noticed the tongue as he concentrated on the other fine features. He HAD managed to catch her naked once though it had been two years earlier when her body was nowhere near as developed as it now was. Besides she had only been rushing down the corridor from her bedroom to the toilet to throw up when she had a bout of gastro. She had just come from the bathroom with her towel wrapped around her when she had to change direction; the towel had dropped and she hadn't bothered with it as she barged past him. He had left the towel outside the door but the sounds within had driven him away. Today the view was much more worth while. David gave Vicki a kiss, tongue fighting tongue as she had shown him, and sent her with the others promising to catch up with her later. He had gotten rid of her just in time. A few more people went by then it was the nurses Janice and Anne-Marie. "Hello Janice, Anne-Marie." He took the opportunity to caress Anne-Marie's rear as he whispered in her ear, "You look absolutely lovely." She blushed at the compliment as she moved forward. A few more women went by and then a string of schoolgirls he had not yet had an opportunity to meet. Closer to his own age he appraised these very closely and was willing to pass favourable comments as they went by. "Very nice!" "Wow!" "I'm very pleased to meet you." No matter whether they were spectacular or only so-so he tried to make each one feel special, touching their arm as they went by. Finally there were only the stragglers; those who had attended to their needs first and those who had been reluctant to strip. There were few people remaining. His aunt Julie and cousin Graham had taken advantage of their own private facilities and saw no need to parade naked in front of the young teenager. His uncle Stan and cousin Walter were still with the six girls he had introduced them to earlier. Damn. They seemed to be getting on VERY well together; if only he hadn't had to fix Michael up. The girls looked very nice as they lounged in their robes. They weren't concerned with whether or not anyone could see between their legs nor whether the fronts were gaping open. One was even rubbing her nipple as he watched. David went around to the remaining three women. They were not willing to get undressed there with him watching so he suggested he walk with them to the pool where his cousin Nancy could see they got into the pool. He could come later and bring their clothing back when they were in the water and Nancy would give them robes to wear back. They agreed with this and he delivered them to Nancy. He returned to the gym and went over to speak with his new friends; he had no desire to get involved with his sour-faced aunt. He had heard her making her views known from time to time and didn't want to get in a discussion with her. Stan got up when his nephew greeted them and took his arm. "Can we have a little talk?" ----- The girls had sat on the kitchen benches to eat a bowlful of cereal each. Michael found a banana that was still edible though spotted and they shared it, Rachael and he eating their way towards a kiss while Stacey had her third sitting beside them. In the darkness she could hear their foolishness and felt a little lonely that she was missing out. Michael did seem nice. He rinsed the dishes and escorted his companions to the pool area. Uncomfortable almost as soon as they entered the hot and humid environment, Michael changed into one of the cooler bath robes lying in a heap and then sat back between them on a bench seat. He didn't spot Nancy at first. There were over two hundred people in a three lane Olympic length pool. Most were standing in clumps though the middle lane was set aside for those who wished to exercise by walking back and forth in a circle holding on to the floating ropes and the far lane was sparsely occupied by those who had been adventurous enough to find their way away from the more crowded area. -- Unknown to him, somewhere in all that naked flesh was his cousin; also uncomfortable in the muggy room, she had soon stripped off when she found it was necessary to get in the water from time to time but now that Michael was there she was a bit reluctant to get out. She saw him holding her sister's hand and that of some other girl; "Why that was Stacey! She looks so different." Some one called out and she turned to look. Another one had gotten a bit lost heading to or from the change- rooms. And it was so simple! David had set up some screens so that a person climbing out at one end of the pool merely had to follow the makeshift wall to reach the door. Once there most people could find a cubicle or washbasin without assistance. They had been practicing in the gym for over a day! Still there was always one who hadn't paid attention when it had been explained and took the wrong turn or who got out the wrong end. Nancy swam over to the other side and climbed out presenting Michael with a distant but respectable view of her derriere. Her swinging arms and direction blocked his view of her other attributes until she assisted the woman back into the pool and walked around the side to where she had left a towel and her clothes. She dried herself and donned a towelling robe from the pile before joining them. -- As Michael watched her dry herself he commented to Rachel. "Did you realise your sister looks a lot like you, with her clothes off?" Rachel elbowed him in the side. "Let someone else check her out, you've got me and Stacey to worry about." Stacey wasn't sure how she felt about being automatically included in the grouping. She didn't want to be parted from her friend and was finding Michael interesting but no-one likes to be taken for granted. Perhaps Michael should ask HER if she wanted to be "worried about"! She knew she wouldn't have said "No" if he did. Nancy came over. "Hello. How's the head?" "Head?", asked Rachel. "Yeah. Didn't he tell you he was nearly scalped earlier?" Rachel lifted her hand to her lover's head. "Careful", warned Michael. Rachel felt the bandage. "Why didn't you say something?" "It was all over and I didn't want you to worry." Rachel took his face in her hands and kissed him tenderly. Nancy watched in amazement. Her sister had only gone off with their cousin the night before and now, in the course of what?, 11? 12? hours she was all lovey-dovey over him! She neglected to consider how her own relationship with her friend Fran and Fran's boyfriend Paul had similarly developed over much the same period. She concentrated instead on the details that she was 18 and had at least screwed her boyfriend, now gone forever, while Rachel at 15 had been a virgin when she had left the gym the previous evening. After being told Michael had specifically chosen her over his other available female cousins, rushing his choice to avoid getting the second best but still permitting her to make the decision as to whether or when they would get together, Rachel had experienced a tender first time that made her appreciate her new lover. That he had shown a similar sensitivity to her friend when she was in desperate need had only reinforced her feelings. When he had shown it wasn't a one-night stand; that he was still interested in her and was prepared to look to her pleasure before his own, well... He just had to be the one didn't he! Rachel put her arm around him and rested her head against his chest. She hugged him, not realising her robe was gaping open to show her sister her young tits. "She doesn't look old enough to have a boyfriend", thought Nancy as she stared at her cousin. "I hope he treats her properly." Her attention was drawn back to the pool. She had gotten people in the water and was letting them have a bit of a soak and some exercise as they wished while the water was still fresh. She now put out washcloths, cakes of soap and bottles of shampoo around the pool and let the bathers know they were there. People took turns to use the items, helping each other wash with a sense of community, brought together by their shared losses. An occasional cake of soap was lost and there was a high- spirited search with people bobbing under to reach for the slippery bar. There was quite a bit of accidental capture of body parts and the former caretaker found the lack of resemblance between his organ and a cake of soap did not stop it's repeated capture. His age unknowable unless he revealed it and the women realising their identities were also protected, both parties enjoyed the not so accidental encounters as he gave as good as he got. -- Michael noticed his mother was down one end of the pool, sitting on the steps with her friend Deirdre. Looking closer he realised that Deirdre had an arm around his mother with one of her hands on her breast. There also seemed to be some activity between the women under the water. "Don't tell me Mum and Deirdre are getting it off!" Michael wondered what his father would say. "You're not going to believe it but someone is playing with my mother's tits!" The response was unexpected. "I wish I had half her luck." It was Stacey. "Feeling lonely sweetheart?" Michael let go of her hand and put his arm around her. "A bit." "Would you like me to ..." "I think so. Yes please, if it's all right with Rachel." "Of course Stace. You know we've always shared." "Not a boy." "There's enough of him to share. We are going to have to share him with some others too so we should probably get as much use from him before he gets all tired out." "Thank you very much!" Michael considered. The bench was away from the wall. "Would you girls mind turning around on the seat?" The girls were puzzled but complied. With them now facing the wall while he faced the pool he gently parted the robes and slipped and arm around the waist of each pretty young girl. As he looked at Stacey's body for the first time with her permission, he was pleased with the shape of her young breasts. He compared them with Rachel's. Rachel had small mounds which clearly showed she was female, there was no doubting that! There was enough "meat" there to cup in his hand; they were noticeable as breasts to his touch, it wasn't the same as holding her little pudding belly (and THAT wasn't fat either just a nice rounded shape). What he liked was the conical shape to her nipples. Stacey's were more like the erasers on the end of a pencil, with a little crease across the ends. Rachel's didn't seem to have a distinct existence, they were simply the end of a mound upon a mound. Those mounds were almost hemispherical, with the stubby cones added on top. Stacey's had more of a convex upper surface, a ski jump to the take-off point on her nipple then a convex lower surface giving a firm rounded shape to the breast. Both forms were attractive to Michael. After rubbing their backs and sides while he took stock of their beauty he slid his hands up and took a breast in each one. Both girls leaned into his touch. His hands were warm against their flesh and his fingers stroked the soft smooth skin. He squeezed softly, first on Stacey's side as he leaned to kiss her, then on Rachel's as he made her aware that his feelings for her had not changed by his acceptance of Stacey as another potential partner. Rachel felt between them and took Stacey's hand in hers. They had spent some time in their own tentative explorations and she wasn't sure how Michael would respond to that information. Stacey squeezed her fingers; she too had fond memories and wondered where these new shared experiences would take them. -- Nancy had observed them change around and realised what Michael was doing. The idea of surreptitiously petting with all these people around was something she too found exciting and she sought out her own companions. Fran and Paul had been chatting to people, making their acquaintances and getting to know their fellow "inmates". It was a bit like a large society party where you mingled with strangers and gradually got to know a few of them. When Nancy asked them to come with her they bid their new friends goodbye and slipped under the ropes to go over to the quieter side of the pool. Nancy sat on the side of the pool and whispered to her friends. "I'm sorry, I know it sounds selfish. It's just I was just so horny I wondered if Paul would eat me." Paul replied "Of course. Just ask any time. It's a pleasure." Fran however had other ideas. "Do you mind if I eat you instead?" Nancy hadn't wanted to ask her friend. She certainly wanted to try Fran but wasn't sure if Fran would be interested in reciprocating. "Perhaps we can eat each other?" "Tonight maybe", promised Fran, "let me just satisfy you for now." She pushed Nancy's legs apart, a simple enough task, and moved her head between her thighs. Paul stood behind his girlfriend, his cock stiffening against her ass, and cupped her breasts from behind. He couldn't SEE her eating pussy but once she started he planned on using his hands to feel the activity; by letting his imagination replace his eyes he would know what it looked like! Nancy looked around her, no-one was paying the trio any notice and Michael was apparently more concerned with his own companions. She looked across the room to watch him as Fran planted a series of little kisses over the surface of her pussy. It was a pleasing sensation, devoid of the hurried approach her former boyfriend had favoured; a light touch that warmed her without distracting her attention from the distant tableau. Michael was swapping kisses back and forth between the two girls by his sides. Nancy couldn't see his hands but when her little sister, holding hands with her friend, appeared to be stroking their cousin's penis she tried to get a better look. "Can we just move around a bit please?" From her new vantage point she sat directly opposite the young man and, while it gave her a better view of what was happening on that side of the pool, it also made her much more obvious. Michael met her gaze and smiled at her. He wasn't trying to hide and he must have been able to see the back of Fran's head. Nancy waved and he raised a hand from behind her sister and waved back. He nodded his head downwards, indicating Fran and Nancy lay her hand on the back of her friend's head. Paul had his hand in her lap and was holding her lips apart so Fran could kiss and occasionally lick a little deeper. Nancy nodded downwards in turn and made a sign to indicate the pumping hands and Michael caressed the girls faces, stroking their cheeks and gently rubbing their earlobes. "Paul could you stand next to me please?" Paul retrieved his hand and lifted himself out onto the tiles. He took his place as asked and a shower of water fell in a cooling spray as he shook his wet arms above her. He was semi-hard and Nancy cupped his balls, encouraging the organ to stiffen. She took it in her hand and began to stroke it, making sure that each movement was clearly visible to Michael. -- Michael enjoyed watching the counter-teasing and upped the performance on his side of the pool. "Stacey would you stand up please and put your robe on the seat. And Rachel would you put your robe on your side of the seat and kneel on it so you can suck me?" Though their love making had been in private (including Stacey's presence) Rachel realised that the people in the pool wouldn't be able to see her most improper behaviour. She didn't consider her sister's presence. Stacey figured Michael now knew enough about how her body looked that it no longer mattered, and like Rachel, she complied with his request. His touch had been thrilling and his kisses sweet. She was quite willing to trust him to continue the pleasantries. Rachel's tits didn't droop at all when she was sitting up and didn't seem any different as they now hung down. Michael made sure his fingertips were easily seen reaching up her side as he cupped one of the gorgeous breasts in his hand. Rachel began to lick and bob her head in a rather inexperienced attempt to blow the youth. Michael turned his head towards the other teen girl now standing beside him and took one of her tits in his mouth. He had her stand so his own head didn't obstruct Nancy's view. Stacey was most pleased that she had followed his orders. When he had fondled her breasts it had been nice but now it resembled the pleasure she and Rachel had shared during their "investigations" some months earlier. He continued sucking at Stacey's chest for some time and then paused to see whether Nancy had continued to watch and, if so, how she was reacting. -- Nancy had indeed kept her eyes glued on him as first Stacey and then Rachel had stripped and she had watched her own sister giving their cousin a mouth-fuck. It was a skill she, quite correctly, wouldn't have thought her sister possessed. Michael didn't however seem to mind, she must be doing something right. When Michael looked over at her, replacing his mouth at the standing girls breast with his free hand, Nancy released Paul momentarily and gave him a silent clap, honouring his performance. She then used Paul's penis as a leash to move him into position. She reached around behind him and griped his ass to force him to move closer to her waiting mouth. It was in some respects easier for Nancy than Michael; she could continue in her endeavours while glancing over the top of the penis to see what was happening elsewhere. Fran was getting into the swing of things, beginning to send shivery sensations up and down Nancy's spine as she thought eagerly about eating and being eaten. She didn't mind being the meat in the sandwich, this time. -- Michael remembered back to the days when he and Nancy had been just kids. There were photos as evidence that they had shared a bath on at least one occasion though neither remembered that innocent experience. Later however they had played a little "Doctors" which at the time had simply been an inquisitive "I'll show you mine if ...". Later still they had found each other to be convenient members of the opposite sex when it was time to learn how to kiss in a manner that didn't relate to visiting grandparents. At no time could he recall Nancy revealing an exhibitionistic streak, in fact once, when viewing a naked woman running across a sports ground he could recall her saying that she "could never do anything like that!" Perhaps she had changed or perhaps it was merely the size of the audience. He had to get Rachel to pause as he watched Nancy slide the stranger's prick into her mouth (he supposed this was the electrician she had talked about earlier - Paul? - and the woman who he could just see would be ... what was her name?) It was a case of too much of a good thing and he wanted to last as long as Nancy. Rachel had made up for a lack of technique with a high degree of enthusiasm. "Rachel, love. You didn't want to wait until later. Would you like to sit on my lap now?" He lifted her face from his lap. Rachel sat up and gave him a spirited hug. "Sure. What do you want me to do?" "Stand in front of me and then just sit back down on my lap." Michael scooted over to the end of the bench, leading Stacey by the hand. She could now stand where he could reach her without having to turn so far around. He wanted his cousin to watch him screw her sister with all these people unknowingly present just as she was doing her own secret sword swallowing act for him. -- Nancy was holding Fran's head firmly against her cunt flaps while she watched Michael and the girls. Paul found her own oral activity disturbingly inconsistent; she would get things moving nicely and then would pause for a few seconds as if distracted. He wondered if it was Fran's fault and once again wished he could actually see the girls together. Nancy did enjoy the continued efforts of her friend. If she hadn't been there Nancy would have had to bury her fingers deep in her twat; Michael was making her so hot! She was, for the moment at least, only using Paul to put on a show for Michael. She hadn't really considered what HE was feeling at the moment and would have been apologetic had she realised the strain she was causing. She took her mouth off of his prick and resumed stroking it instead something which disappointed him until she softly explained to them both what was going on. "My cousin Michael is across the pool watching us." Fran turned her face upwards while Paul unconsciously turned to where Nancy would be facing. "No. Keep that up please dear Fran. It is so nice. He has been fooling around with my sister and her friend and he knows I'm watching him too. I think he's getting as hot watching you two as I am, watching him." "What have they been doing?" asked Paul. Fran would have asked the same question but she had done as Nancy had asked and was too polite to talk with her mouth full. "Much the same as us, only he was sucking on Stacey's tits, that's my sister's friend, while Rachel was giving him a blow job. He's been watching me blow Paul and now she's moved onto his lap. She's naked facing me with her legs spread over his and I watched her reach between to put his prick inside her. I never imagined my little sister behaving like that." "I'm sure she wouldn't imagine you behaving like this either. You said 'little sister'. How old is she?" "Fifteen." "And your cousin?" "Uhm. Seventeen I think. He's cupping her breasts as she leans back against him and now he's taken one of Stacey's hands and put it on her breasts. He's looking straight across at us as they are playing with my sister." Her hand was gripping harder on Paul's penis and she began to stroke harder as well while providing the commentary. Paul put his hand on her head to steady himself as he resisted the impulse to rock his hips against the direction of her hands. "Fran why don't you climb up here and we can see if we can top that." Paul was quite willing to help put on a show of their own; At 22 he thought he could come up with a few things a 17 year old boy may not. Fran paused for Nancy's decision. "Yes dear. Let's see what this wicked man of yours has in mind." The young woman got out and Nancy handed here her towel. She patted herself dry as Paul made his suggestion. Nancy stood. Fran was lighter than her, so this time they would make a Fran sandwich. Nancy steadied the couple as Paul lifted his girlfriend and turned her upside down. Nancy checked their stance to make sure that Michael could see as her companions began their vertical 69. The angle of Paul's prick matched that of Fran's throat and she found that, rather than pushing against her uvula, his prick forced the back of her tongue down instead and lessened the feeling she was going to choke. Paul in turn bent his head and tasted the pool-tainted tang of her juices. Nancy stood behind Fran enjoying the perfect view of Paul's tongue passing over her clit to reach her damp hole. After unsuccessfully trying to reach Fran's breasts, Nancy instead slipped first one and then a second finger into the woman's cunt. Paul's tongue found her knuckles and followed her digits to plant a kiss on the back of her hand before returning to Fran's clit. He could tell Fran was enjoying the finger fuck as her actions had increased around the time Nancy must have penetrated her. Nancy's fingers tired and she changed around; one finger, the other, her thumb. She had to twist her arm around for the latter and decided to stick with her fingers instead. She was paying less attention to Michael now and more to the closer show. With two fingers buried deep in the other woman's vagina, her thumb was brushing against the puckered ring of her asshole. Nancy had heard of anal sex but associated it with male homosexuals. Her friend seemed to like her touch though and Nancy increased the stimulation. "What ever you are doing, keep it up Nancy. Fran is getting frantic." Nancy complied and instead of just rubbing her thumb past the sphincter she pressed against it. There was enough lubricant on her thumb to allow her to force the ring of muscle to part slightly and when she eased the pressure a little wall of flesh remained stretched against her thumb to fight against its withdrawal. She relaxed her thumb, leaving it still slightly inserted while she pushed her fingers deeper, wriggling them inside her girlfriend. Then she eased them out letting her hand rock to force her slippery thumb a little deeper. The sphincter widened and once again Paul encouraged her to continue. He didn't know how long he could last if Fran continued to hoover him but while it did last he wanted her to keep it up exactly like she was now. Rocking back and forth, Nancy strove to embed her thumb deeper. Fran's ass was drying though and, with some difficulty just before it came free, Nancy removed the intruding digit and wiped her fingers around her friend's ass cheeks. She knew from childhood instructions how important it was for girls to wipe "1-2" and not the reverse. She was willing to add extra juices where she could coat her thumb but wasn't about to stick it where she could infect her friend; she scraped her thumb over the smooth cheeks. Adequately lubed she tried again and this time found her friend's asshole eager to be invaded. With her digits stimulating front and back she again took the time to look across the pool. -- Michael had been enjoying the acrobatic display almost as much as feeling Rachel's hot cunt around his prick. He had asked her to sit still so that he could enjoy the show. He had been quite pleased as well when Stacey had been prepared to let him place her hand on her girlfriend's small breast. He didn't know it wasn't the first time but when Rachel felt him first place it there and then pat the back of Stacey's hand as she fondled her friend she decided it would be safe to let him in on their secret. "Michael, I've, well we've, got something to tell you. See Stacey and I have, well ... fooled around a little together. Not much but we have played with each other a couple of times." Stacey's hand griped the little mound. "How could she! What would Michael say?" Rachel patted the hand herself; "It will be okay", she seemed to be saying. "Great!" Michael was knowledgeable enough about what went on, or at least what had, in society and found the idea of a little lesbian action very attractive. "Did you enjoy it?" Rachel replied while Stacey was still a little stunned, "It was fun." She didn't want to turn Michael off making love with her; the experiences with Stacey had been interesting, educational, enjoyable and erotically pleasing but they had approached things as friends rather than as lovers. It had drawn them closer without initiating an exclusive relationship. "How about you Stacey? Did you like fooling around with Rachel?" Stacey's reply was rather quiet, "Yes. She was lovely." Michael's voice lost some of it's exuberance, becoming more pleading as he asked, "Do you think I could watch you some time? Or would you prefer to just be together?" Both girls answered "Oh no!" at the same time and then realised that he could interpret that as an answer to his first question rather than the intended second. "I want to be with you Michael. If Stacey's there that's fine with me and, if she doesn't mind, I don't mind you watching us. I love you Michael!" Stacey wasn't willing to declare her feelings, not quite sure herself yet as everything had been moving far too fast for her. "I want to be with you both too. I really don't know that we have done much together but I certainly don't mind you being there if we do it again." "You will have to tell me about it some time. Have you eaten each other?" Stacey knew she had interrupted something along those lines earlier and recalled the sweet musky taste on Michael's lips. It had brought back memories of the time she had smelled, then licked, her fingers after an early attempt to make Rachel come. ----- She had sat back against the headboard of her bed with her legs apart and with Rachel leaning back into her. They had stayed fully clothed in case Stacey's Mum came wandering by so she had slipped one hand under Rachel's sweater and over her soft bra; the other went under the elastic of the leg of her knickers. Stacey had always been a little more adventurous than her friend but Rachel could be counted upon to eventually follow the other girl's lead. When Stacey had found out about the joys of self- exploration she had shared her experiences with Rachel and later had suggested she demonstrate to her friend exactly what she had discovered. Rachel had been nervous that they might be discovered but the embarrassment she might have felt at her friend's touch was allayed by the need to keep her clothes on. Stacey had explained what she was doing as her hands moved over the young body cuddled against her. If the hand on her budding breast had been rendered less effective by the training bra, the touch on her previously undiscovered clit was earth-shattering. As she made her friend squirm her fingers slid back and forth, getting coated with the same slime she had found between her own legs. Rachel hadn't come on that day but she had found enough enjoyment to go exploring further and later to pleasure Stacey in turn. Rachel had lain there, gasping as she tried to recover. Stacey had hugged her and reached up to push her own hair out of her eyes. She caught the scent and breathed deeply with her fingers by her top lip. She hadn't mentioned to Rachel that she had actually tasted the sweet smelling secretions after masturbating and now she glanced down to make sure her friend didn't see her put her glistening fingers between her lips. She scoured those digits clean as she realised just how tasty Rachel was. Best friends though they were, intimate though their investigations had been, Stacey was still uncertain how her friend would react to the knowledge Stacey had tasted the slime from "down there". At that stage in their lives it was too "gross" to contemplate. Knowing now how they both tasted, Stacey limited their encounters to the manipulation of each other's bodies with their hands and an occasional suckled breast. Rachel, following her friend's lead, didn't suspect the larger world of experience she was missing. That night, Rachel's cotton knickers were soaked through and the next morning when she was putting her laundry out she found they had hardened like cardboard. It wasn't to be the last time. ----- "No", Stacey quietly answered Michael, "we haven't done that." "Oh you should try it", he encouraged. "I know Rachel is delicious and I'm sure you are too. Do you like your own taste?" Stacey was still unsure in front of her friend. Rachel seemed so tied up with Michael; she didn't know how things really stood between the three of them. Okay, Michael had put her hand on Rachel's breast and Rachel hadn't complained, but they hadn't really "touched" other than a weepy hug and friendly kisses on the cheek when she had finally been sensible to her new situation that morning. Rachel piped up in the growing silence. "I like it. It's yummy." If Rachel could say it Stacey supposed she could too. "Yes, it's nice." Rachel continued, placing a hand on Michaels as he gently rubbed her breast, "What is really nice though is tasting it on your lips." She laughed. Michael remembered back in the room and leaned against Stacey's cushioning breasts as he looked up at her face. "I think Stacey likes to taste it that way too." As he thought, her blush said it all. There was no confused look, she had realised what had been coating his lips when they had kissed. There was a faint call and he saw someone waving by the change room door. He glanced back at Nancy and saw she was going to respond. "Stacey. I wonder. I would like to watch you eating Rachel's pussy. Would you do that for me?" "Oh please do", said Rachel. "I'll eat yours after or Michael will. You can find out how absolutely dreamy it is." Stacey didn't want to say no and now she didn't have a reason to. "Okay, but I haven't done it before so I don't really know what to do." Michael bounced up and down on the seat as he turned round to face the end, keeping Rachel spiked as she travelled with his lap. He wanted to be able to lie back if necessary to give Stacey better access but for now he wanted to see her in action. "Just kneel down between my legs." He spread them wide and Rachel, her legs draped over his, thought she was going to be split open. "Now all you have to do is find her pussy and lap up those sweet juices. Is that okay?" "Sure." Stacey was getting her old confidence back. She knew she wasn't going to be treated with horror and was, as always, willing to try something new. Rachel had been the follower in the past. Now, if not the trailblazer, she was certainly the promoter. For something like this Stacey didn't mind following along. She placed her hands on Rachel's legs and walked forward on her knees so she was better positioned. She had to bend forwards so she lay her arms right over the soft thighs and reached around behind Michael to playfully grasp his ass cheeks under his robe. She ran the tip of her nose down Rachel's belly, seeking the hidden places she had not visited for, oh so long. Michael had "dined" at Rachel's table only a little earlier so Stacey was confident all would be tasty. She poked out her tongue and almost immediately found the hooded button she knew would turn the other girl on in a most remarkable way. It wasn't the object of her quest, just yet, so she drove her tongue further back where the taste was stronger. Rachel leaned back as Michael reclined slightly, maintaining his view over his cousin's shapely shoulder. "Stacey certainly seems to want to do this", he thought. "Much better to watch in the evenings than TV." Stacey found she could get deeper and poked out a flattened tongue intending to swipe it from dripping cunt to furry fringe. Instead she encountered a saggy sack of skin whose heavy contents she juggled on the tip of her tongue. Further along a tree trunk grew out of the delicious swamp and finally her tongue swept over the tessellations of Rachel's inner lips. Both Michael and Rachel enjoyed the feel of her carnal lick and waited eagerly for the next pass. Stacey had been aware of the male form (what teenage girl didn't have some idea at least) and she had held hands around Michael's penis earlier as Rachel had encouraged her to help stroke him. This licking of paired organs was something she had never considered before and the "naughtiness" of it excited her. The taste was as she remembered, a strange sweetness that left her wanting more. "Could it be addictive?" she wondered. She continued to stimulate them both, hugging them to force her tongue harder against their private parts. Michael was still trying to keep Rachel from moving too much; Stacey's tongue and the sight of his naked cousin approaching was stimulation enough. Though his body was screaming for more he was proud that, so far, he had been able to overcome those urges. -- Nancy heard the call behind her and saw the waving hand. It was one of the "regulars", someone who seemed congenitally unable to either listen or to follow simple instructions or else she was an attention getter. Nancy suspected the latter; the woman seemed to have had her body resculptured in an attempt to attract the male eye and wondered if that was the reason she had been scooped up by one of the males in her family. She carefully removed her digits, apologising to her companions. "Sorry. Got to go. Will you be okay?" Paul considered. "I think we had better lie down. I wouldn't want to have someone bump into us or to accidentally drop Fran." Nancy steadied them as Paul first knelt and then lay on his back, Fran's extended arm her only concession to their adjusted position. What dedication! She did get onto her knees once they were supine and began to really fuck Paul's cock with her mouth. She had been rather restricted in what movements she could make while upside down. She did make a mental note to thank Nancy later, possibly by deed rather than in words. Nancy watched them with regret as she quickly washed her hand in the pool before "dealing" with the annoyance. She led the woman to her friends, who seemed to be disappointed she was back, then looked over to where Paul and Fran were enjoying themselves before glancing in turn at Michael, Rachel and Stacey. The scene looked interesting and she decided to take a closer look. She was quite aware that Michael was closely examining her naked form as she approached them so she added a little swing to her swivelling hips. She saw his eyes follow the moving target as she had intended and a wry smile twisted her lips as she came to a halt in front of him with legs spread slightly and knuckles on her hips. Michael put a finger over lis lips; he apparently didn't want her to let the others know she was there yet. Nancy looked up from inspecting her sister's exposed form and the expressions of delight on her face to see Michael pantomiming something to her. "I have never been good at charades", she thought. "Okay. Licking, obvious enough. Michael wanted to lick something? No, he was indicating Rachel." He was pointing to his chest, then changed his mind and pointed at Rachel's breast instead. "Did he want someone to lick Rachel's breast? What, me?" Nancy pointed at her mouth and then at Rachel's small mound and raised her eyebrows. Michael shook his head. He pointed at Rachel again and stuck his tongue out and then pointed at Nancy's chest. "Oh! And he doesn't want Rachel to know." Nancy thought for a few seconds then grinned and nodded. She braced herself on Michaels shoulder as she leaned forward to rest a prominent nipple against her sister's lips. They parted and a tongue quested over the fleshy treat for a second or two before disappearing again. "Go on Rachel love. Suck on it." There was a puzzled look on the young girls face as she obeyed the young man buried inside her. Michael lay back as he watched Nancy's face when Rachel took the tip of her breast into her mouth and began to suck gently on it, working her tongue over and around the nipple. She was running through her mind who the other woman could be. It didn't take very long to realise it had to be her sister Nancy. It was only the unexpected idea of her big sister putting a tit in her face that made her think of some other possibilities first. Fortunately she was fond of her sister. They were born three years apart, close enough to get on their nerves a little bit from time to time but far enough that when Rachel had needed advice on reaching puberty Nancy was able to fill in where their mother had been reticent. She had gotten used to following Michael's suggestions and requests, they had proven rewarding so far, and other than a muffled "Nancy?" she continued to apply, with great success, the lessons she and Stacey had taught each other a year or so earlier. She did hear a quiet "Yes" as a hand caressed the side of her face and then held her head more firmly against her sibling's chest. It was too much for Michael. He had held out with super- human determination but the additional sight of "forbidden" lust put him over the edge. He pushed his hips up as he tried to drive himself deeper into Rachel's tight confines. Rachel had trouble keeping Nancy's tit in her mouth and put her arm around her sister's bare back. Stacey in turn had trouble keeping her face against the increasingly mobile pussy, her hands having had to shift from ass cheeks to hips. The taste of her friend's pussy changed, the sweetness being mixed with the salty bitterness of Michael's cum. Stacey didn't realise at first why the flavour had changed but then fathomed it our. To her credit she didn't let that stop her bringing her friend to completion. Rachel had experienced her first orgasm with Michael the previous evening and now her very best friend had proven that by giving her a second. She let go of the breast and hugged her sister to her instead. She was afraid she may have bitten down as Stacey's tongue took her over the top. As she rested there she had to get her friend to stop and then felt Michael slipping out of her as the firmness disappeared leaving a thick worm to find its way out of its burrow. Stacey gave a lick over Michael's now soft prick and decided she much preferred Rachel's unsullied flavour. She rested her cheek on Michael's thigh as she rested from her efforts, her thoughts centring around when it might be her turn. Nancy looked down at her cousin. He had just fucked her sister in her presence. He had encouraged her to put on a display while at the same time putting on one of his own and finally he had gotten her to let her sister suck on her breasts. She would have to have a talk with him. Nancy gave Rachel a kiss on the head and turned to walk back to her friends, recovering now from their own tumultuous orgasms. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: FILF Part: Chapter 3 of 4 Universe: --- Summary: Father I'd Like to, well you know the rest. Keywords: MF, Mf, Ff, rom, no-sex Language: English Copyright: 2010 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* +-----------------------------------------------------+ | Jerry STEVENS (44) : Nick (23) : Prue (17) | | Richie WAINWRIGHT(46) : Cass (21) : Shelley (17) | | Howard BECK (48) : Fiona (26) : Ange (17) | +-----------------------------------------------------+ "Why did you climb into our beds naked?" "Because. We like you. We know how you behave towards us. We respect you." "We love you," added Prue. To say we were stunned would have been an understatement. I don't know that Ange and Shelley would have said that to us yet but we could see they agreed, cautiously or reluctantly - I wasn't quite sure. "While not addressing that here - I think that has to be on a personal level both as fathers and as, well, boyfriends - we do need to deal with both the current legal issue and your sleepwalking." Howard and Richie let me continue with just nods of agreement. "The legal issue is straight forward. Despite any feelings you may have for us or that we may have for you, there can be no suggestion of sexual contact between us while you are under eighteen. That doesn't mean it is going to happen on your 18th birthdays though. In the meantime we have to look at what constitutes sexual contact since this is a small town and people see fire whenever there is even a hint of smoke. "I would suggest there can be no inappropriate touching. If you wouldn't touch your father that way or if you expect him not to touch you that way then it shouldn't happen. Secondly, I would suggest there should be no inappropriate exposure of body parts. If you can't walk down Main Street when the shops are open like you are then you shouldn't be exposed like that in front of us. "Thirdly, I would suggest we refrain from saying anything that would allow others to construe that either of the first issues have or are occurring. Can we perhaps first discuss these points and come to some agreement? Are there any other constraints I might have missed?" No-one raised any additional points. "Does anyone have any objections or amendments or even just questions?" Shelley raised her hand. "You can just speak up. Yes?" "Well, kissing. You said sexual contact and kissing isn't really. I know I kiss you a whole lot different to how I'd kiss Dad." I'm sure I was red. I felt my face was hot. It was easier when Prue and Ange both agreed vigorously - I wasn't the odd man out then. "Okay. When you're out on Main Street would you be kissing me there?" "*I* wouldn't mind." "Like you kiss your father or like you want to kiss me though?" "Well I wouldn't care much if it was like kissing Dad. I guess if it was like I want to then people might stare a bit. It wouldn't matter if we were alone and inside though - then no-one would know to care." "Unless you didn't know you weren't alone." "It would still be only a kiss. We did that at the Prom." "In the dark and it might have been a bad idea and could still come back to bite us. What about you girls? What do you think?" "I need more practise and I wouldn't mind Howard teaching me." Okay, I guess I now felt what Richie must have felt while his daughter had talked about me. I'm sure Howard was feeling as awkward as I had been about being in the spotlight - or was that the deer in the headlights? "I don't see why kissing is so bad. You don't have to be eighteen for that." "A peck on the cheek is one thing. Burying your tongue down Richie's throat is only going to make people think he is doing much more." I was glad Howard answered Ange's question. "But if I was at Richie's place..." "Like last night?" Howard interrupted. "Well, yes." "Where no-one could see you?" "Yes." "Except Cass?" "You're only saying her because she wants to go out with you." "It is true that I'm taking her out but what if it was, oh, Richie's sister that was staying there?" "He could send her home," Ange grinned cheekily, "or perhaps she could teach me how to kiss if I can't kiss him." "Angela!" "Oh Dad! Don't pretend you think that sort of thing doesn't happen around here. You were at the Prom weren't you?" "Yes, it happens, but that doesn't mean you can talk disrespectfully about Richie's family." "Er, guys. I don't actually have a sister - just two brothers." "And you don't really want to kiss Uncle Lee, Ange. Uncle Paul though... Nah! Not like that." "Girls, can I remind you that while there may be humour in the topic the consequences are quite serious." "I don't see why our sisters would make a fuss over a kiss. They would see us as competition and be interested in their own challenger but if I was to kiss Howard when only Fiona was there why would she care? She'd be more likely to support me so I didn't bad mouth her to Dad." "So you would favour her over me?" Shelley asked Prue. "No. That would be why she wouldn't complain. Think about it though. If I bad mouth her to Dad, she bad mouths me to Howard. The same can apply to You and Nick or Ange and Cass. It is in all our interests to remain neutral and to compete fairly. *THAT* is why they wouldn't complain about us kissing." I have to say I was impressed with Prue's reasoning. She could be wrong but her argument was persuasive. Shelley looked at her father, then Howard and finally me. "So, if we are in one of our homes where no-one outside our three families is present and no-one can see from outside then proper kissing is allowed, but in all other circumstances only hugs or kisses to the cheek are allowed while we are still seventeen. Is that acceptable to you?" We men exchanged glances; minute head movements provided a direction. I added a rider though. "Yes - provided you don't try to extend that to the issues of other touching or showing. Just because it's done in private doesn't make it any less illegal." "The only problem I still have isn't to do with the roles that apply to us but rather how we talked of competing fairly with our sisters. If we aren't allowed to have sex of any sort with you before we are 18 then they shouldn't be allowed to either. Before we are 18 I mean." "Perhaps until we are all 18 so one person can't start before the others." "That isn't because your birthday comes last is it Prue?" "What's two weeks extra? I'm thinking of Cass. She's likely to be upset if Shelley is having fun before she can try her best against me." "Hang on," I objected. "No-one has agreed to have sex with any of you nor with your sisters. All that has happened is that we took you to the Prom and things might have gone a little far even with just a kiss and now we have dates for the weekend. It is a bit of a stretch to assume that automatically leads to sex and then to assume that even if it did it would happen in the next six weeks." "How long has it been Dad?" Prue asked gently. "We know none of you have dated for years," added Ange. "And our sisters aren't much better off. We hear them - I'm surprised you three haven't." "So," Prue finished, "they are likely to hit on you, and soon, even if you don't start anything. If they do, do you really think you would say no? We just want our chance to convince you that you should say yes to us rather than to them." "What are you three proposing then?" "Well we are unlikely to get you to cancel your dates or even make them a one-time thing. We could go along?" "I don't think so. We're supposed to be considering punishments as well and that sounds like a reward - or a punishment for your sisters." "Then how about you make it clear that there is to be no sex before the Friday night after my birthday at the earliest and you each take the two of us interested in you out together that night so there is no advantage. In the meantime we get equal time with you - or a reasonable approximation." "And may the best girl win?" asked Howard. "Thank you," said Prue with a pleasant smile. "I intend to." A look shared between we men found no uncertainty or objection. We were human enough to enjoy the idea of being fought over and realistic enough to know we had no real control over who our daughters got "involved" with, or when it would happen. "We will have a word to that effect to your sisters then. Now you three have already had our company at the Prom, which corresponds to the weekend coming up, and last night which will correspond to another date. I don't think I'm ready to invite Fiona to spend the night naked next to me even if nothing happens. Actually ensuring nothing happened would be a challenge." Even Howard grinned at the idea of me having to resist such a temptation since he could visualise Cass in his bed instead. The girls accepted the retroactive application of the new rules especially if it was the only thing that kept their sisters out of our beds. "Now what do you girls think is an appropriate punishment?" Ange answered on their behalf. "We thought you might ask and put our heads together. Since you've agreed we should have an equal opportunity to see you then perhaps we should miss out on being taken somewhere special for our dates until we are 18. Then people wouldn't see us together either." "I brought you home around 6:30. We met here at 8:30. How on Earth have you managed to agree to anything, much less a punishment dependent on the conditions we just agreed to!?" The three girls just looked stunned and pulled out their mobile phones. "I think we've been out-played gentlemen. I'm sure it's not quite the punishment they want us to think it is but I vote we agree with the added punishment that they have to sit with their own fathers on Saturday dinners for the same period regardless of where their sisters *CHOOSE* to sit." The looks of dismay that spread over each girl's face convinced me and the others that this was perceived as a punishment. Each would have to look across the table at their rival getting cosy with their shared objective. "Agreed." "Unanimous." "Don't we get a say?" "You made your recommendation. We adapted it then adopted it. Further business? Meeting adjourned." Now we only had to discuss matters with the three older women. --- "They did what!? Prue, you didn't!? God, what were you thinking?" "You're just jealous that you three didn't think of it first!" "Prue!" "Sorry, Dad." "I'm sure." Nick had a smirk on her face. "Of course, now you've suggested the idea..." I punctured Nick's bubble with the results of our meeting in the park. "That's not fair! They misbehave and *WE* have to suffer. *WE* are adults; we should be able to make up our own minds as to whether or not we have sex and with whom." "I agree Nick, and we three men have decided to remain celibate for a little longer. There is no constraint in the agreement on you girls - any of the six of you - finding an *APPROPRIATE* (I looked at Prue) lover other than we three men. As your father though I'd be inclined to put my own restrictions on you Prue until you *ARE* 18." Prue and Nick glared at each other. *I* started organising Sunday lunch in lieu of our cancelled Golf game. --- The two sets of suitors met several times over that week while maintaining a frosty approach to their individual sisters and own fathers. Prue's argument that their counter-suitor would remain civil proved correct but their direct competitors brought the cold shoulder to a new level of artistry. There must have been plans and counter-plans from both groups. We men met at work rather than school or diners during *OUR* lunch breaks. The outcome was that we each still thought we were too old for either girl or woman interested in us but accepted that they both had a right to try to convince us otherwise and that none of us saw anything wrong in either daughter pairing up with one of our friends. If that led to sex, marriage or just friendship we were all agreeable. The only thing was to try and avoid a hurtful break up if it happened. --- I closed my office door earlier than normal on Friday and hurried to my car before anyone could call out, "Can I have just a minute before you go?" I showered and dressed quickly - neat casual rather than dressy - and wandered over to Fiona's house. Nick wasn't home yet but Prue watched me cross the road, every step closer to Howard's house an opportunity for her to have the evening free to woo him. She'd given me a kiss goodbye with the warning, "Have fun - but not too much!" and gave us five minutes to remember something left behind before locking the door and "visiting Ange." Step one in Prue's seduction of Howard was through his stomach. She knew some of his likes and dislikes from our regular dinners and Ange provided more information and made sure the pantry was stocked with the necessities. "Dessert's all ready," she told Ange when she looked at the baking dish in Prue's arms as they met at the door. "It was one of my Mom's recipes and will just need warming up. How was Fiona?" "Excited - and smug. I really hope Shelley convinces your dad to pick her." "We're going to have to fight hard to stop them getting an advantage." "You're going to have to give Cass equal time for this meal you know." "Yeah, but if she's always playing catch up it won't matter as much, especially if I get three or four evenings ahead of her. Your dad isn't going to be taking her out often enough to square things up and if she has to get all domestic to win, maybe she'll concede defeat." Ange helped Prue find what she needed and she started things cooking in a sequence that would culminate in some hectic preparation just after Howard was due home. Prue didn't want to make it seem too easy, nor to have the food spoil if he was delayed. With everything needed at hand and having helped set the table for two, Ange gave Prue a kiss on the cheek and went to cadge dinner off of Shelley. --- Fiona didn't crowd into the middle seat as Shelley had done and I was a little disappointed. I might be a dirty old man but I knew what I liked. She explained what she'd been doing during the week in answer to my query. There were a few stories they couldn't print for one reason or another that made good gossip. Half the town probably already knew and the other half would never find out since privacy often overrode the Public's Need To Know when the reporting staff at the newspaper had to live next door to those being reported on. The paper also got the national feeds which included those stories provided by the international press. Occasionally one of those was used as a feel good filler; either a story that dwelt on someone else's good fortune since those gave the readers hope they could similarly experience such luck, or one that made the reader feel they had the good fortune to avoid some personal or public disaster. Politicians getting their comeuppance were always popular. I could in turn relate some instances from the plant but most were "you had to be there" funny or else of a technical nature with little humour involved. Fiona probably heard about anything of real interest from Howard anyway. We arrived at the restaurant with the sun still well clear of the horizon though only because the ranges to the west were fairly distant and less impressive than the ones to the east. Our table was located by the expanse of windows. We could have sat outside but I found my meal cooled too quickly and one was at the mercy of insects or cold winds and showers depending on the season. We decided on a bottle of wine and Fiona showed an extensive knowledge of those produced in the not-too- distant wine region. "Don't you remember we had a large advertising section about two years ago? I had to go up to every winery that wanted advertising space and check through their copy while Tony sat down and got pissed so he could provide an editorial review of their products. A couple were pissed at him when they found his reviews were truthful when they would have preferred enthusiastic. I drank enough to be able to help him appraise them - though I could still find my way back to the hotel." "He wasn't trying to get you drunk so he could have his wicked way with you?" "Why? Is that your plan? No. I don't doubt he might have tried once but he would have been unable to do anything without help of a supernatural variety. Tony was a nice guy but no-one wants a drunkard. Walter was quite upset when he had to let him go. I don't think he would have let Tony do the wine article but Tony was too good at hiding his weakness before the trip and didn't seem to care afterwards." "You haven't let that put you off drinking though." "Moderation. In all things, moderation. Well actually, if you hadn't agreed to the *GIRLS* requests we *WOMEN* might have had you begging for a little moderation. Now..." she sniffed, "It might be too late." "What? You mean you won't take any notice if we beg for a rest?" Fiona returned my grin. "You'd like that Jerry, wouldn't you?" "Actually I think I would. I don't know how long I could last though. That's one of the things I struggle with. You - and Michelle for that matter - are young and vibrant. I appreciate your argument that you can't see anyone better around *AT THE MOMENT*. What happens when you realise I *AM* an old fart? That might be five, tent, fifteen years down the track - or next week. I'm not saying that one date means Happy Ever After. Life isn't a fairy tale. "If you intend us to just socialise that's fine. If you think we can tend each other's need, I think I can live with that. If you want something serious but expect someday to find your ideal Mr Right I could probably even go along with that though I might feel differently when the time came. If you want the whole hog, till death us do part, then I think we both need to work up to that point so there is no doubt in either of us that that is what we want. Maybe you don't know yet but would like to explore possible relationships along the way. "The thing I want you to be conscious of for your own sake is that you are 26 and I am 44. I don't feel old which is why, despite my protestations about being ancient, I enjoy your company. When you get to my current age I'll be, hang on, 62 and probably having trouble keeping up with your needs. You'll be 52 when I'm 70 and probably past it. You'll want loving and I'll want afternoon naps. "It can work now, if you want us to follow that path, but as I get older I may prove a disappointment. We need to just learn more about each other so any decision is clearly thought through." --- Howard arrived home about the time we were pulling into the restaurant car park. He smelled the meal cooking and at first thought Fiona was in the kitchen. He then remembered her date and was surprised that Ange could stir his appetite so successfully. Finding Prue in the kitchen was more than just surprising. "Hi Howard. If you'd like to freshen up dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes." She went back to the dinner, apparently expecting him to follow her suggestion. "You don't intend to try what you did the other night?" "I understand the consequences. I don't want anything - nasty - to happen to you Howard. I'm just making dinner for us." "Where is Angela?" "She is consoling Shelley." "Well your cooking smells okay at least. Thank you." "Wait until you've checked how it tastes. You might change your mind." "I'll let you know." He disappeared and Prue carried on. --- "Fiona's (air quotes) out, and Ange's father is busy tonight so I asked her to join us for dinner. That's okay isn't it?" "I would appreciate more warning but, yes, it is quite okay." Prue had bitten the bullet and decided to out-manoeuvre Cass - who had been thinking of calling on Howard later herself until she heard he was busy. Ange herself was hoping time spent with Shelley in Richie's presence wouldn't count though she wasn't sure who was adjudicating. Then there was Shelley, who had to consider how to outdo Fiona after tonight's date. I'm not sure which of us had the nicest meal. I understood Prue did an excellent job and the restaurant was enjoyable if nothing spectacular and Richie had learned a thing or two over the years so his daughters usually only had to add a few vegetables to whatever was defrosted from his weekly cooking session. Nick was probably the unlucky one, scraping together whatever she felt like as she dined in the otherwise empty house. The sunset and lights gave Fiona and I something to cover the gaps that occur in any conversation. She'd taken the time to consider all I had said earlier and made her response as we waited between courses. "Jerry, we three, or okay six, girls have grown up close to you three men. We've seen you with your wives and without them and know what you are like. I've no doubt that you're the one I'd like to be with for the rest of my life - I guess I was comfortable living across the road where Saturday nights were like a regular date, but without the sex. "When you took Shelly to the Prom I realised I was a little jealous. No, envious I think is more correct. I didn't object to her being with you - at the time - but when I really thought about it I wished it was me. I started thinking of being in your arms and realised how horny I was and how satisfied you would make me feel. "I enjoyed the erotic dreams whenever I went to sleep and hinted for a date - through channels. Of course, the rules you men agreed to make it hard for me to seduce you tonight, or at least to get any benefit. "As I was dreaming - and that includes day dreams at work - I did consider what I wanted. I realised I wanted to make you happy but not only in bed. I wanted to share your life. I've done the same maths as you and know what lies ahead of us. I appreciate it might be difficult in the end seeing you go downhill but we could both be killed going home tonight. If we spend our lives together I'll have a lifetime with you be it long or short. If I don't try, I'll miss every minute I'm not with you. You are right that we don't have to decide right away but I do think you are a keeper." Fiona's comments left me stunned though they weren't really too surprising. I could see the advantage for me in having a younger girlfriend - I wasn't so convinced marriage was on the cards or even wanted. I hadn't appreciated that these women might see a long term advantage themselves in having a much older boyfriend. We weren't talking May-December anyway, more May-August. At least I had some idea of how matters stood. I could better decide whether I could honestly let Fiona or Shelley dedicate their life to me without feeling I'd caused them to miss out on far more than I could possibly give. --- Prue put the dishes in the kitchen, telling Howard to get comfortable in the lounge. She cleared the scraps away but left the dishes for later. After all, though she had Howard to herself she couldn't guarantee for how long. They had talked during dinner and he had given her his thanks again and an honest appraisal. She'd made a Cajun Chicken dish and he had to suggest a little less spicy might have been better but he finished it all with obvious enjoyment and she was pleased. Howard took the three seater instead of his own chair anticipating she would want to sit next to him. Prue smiled and snuggled in under his arm. "Is this okay?" she asked. "As in 'won't get us into trouble'?" "Uh huh." "I think so." "I'm sorry I didn't think things through before. I messed up big time." "Well, a little. I admit I didn't mind you being there though. Waking up with a beautiful young lady beside me was almost enough to let me avoid the shock." "Can I sleep there again once I'm 18? Only sleep if you want but I wouldn't mind more." "I wouldn't object right at this moment but a number of things might happen between now and then." "What? Like you and Cass?" "I guess that's one thing." "Have you two even kissed?" "No." Prue scrambled around. "Then you probably should practise so she's not disappointed." "Oh! And who, pray tell, should I practise with?" Prue put her lips to his and showed him. A little while later she rested her head against his shoulder. "If Cass is disappointed, she needs to be certified!" --- Nichole had arrived home to a dark and empty house. She knew my plans but where was Prue? Both our friends' houses were lit and Nick assumed Prue would be visiting with Ange to get some quality time in with Howard on the side. She threw a quick dinner together and decided to visit Cass so she could see Richie as well. Richie opened the door and Nick embraced him, giving him their first real kiss even before she got inside. "Well hello. Let me close the door so you can ring again. I don't mind greetings like that." Nick just gave him another hug as he moved to invite her in. "We are going to have to move outside if we get many more people in." "Oh?" When they entered the lounge it was unnecessary for Nick to ask who was there. Cass and Shelley were sitting on one side of the table while on the other side Ange sat next to a vacant chair that was obviously where Richie had been sitting. They were engaged in a board game. "We've only just started. You can catch up if you want," Richie suggested. "Here, have a seat. We can make room." "Thanks Ange, but I think there is enough room down this end of the table." Nick pulled out the chair between Richie and Shelley rather than leaving Ange between her and "her man". "Where is Howard then?" "Busy tonight," offered Ange. "Oh? I thought his car was in your drive. I figured Prue might have been visiting you since she's not at home but if you're here it can't be *YOU* she's visiting - can it!?" Cass took almost a minute to consider her response then stood. "You can take over for me if you want Nick; I've got to go out for a while." Nick looked at Ange and smiled. "Take no prisoners." --- Fiona and I dawdled through dessert, enjoying each other's companionship. The town was a miniature patch of light in the darker surrounding forest. With far more than the alleged two lights, it was like a patch of glow worms in a cave and the image was only spoiled by the reflections of the well-lit restaurant in the windows. "Could we stop at the lookout on the way back?" "Your wish is my command." "I wish you hadn't agreed to the no-sex rule." "Sorry, no retroactive wishing." "I wish the girls were already 18 then." "Or wishing for the impossible. Do you really want to have them in greater competition?" Fiona took my hand and looked serious. "Would you really still consider Shelley if you had me?" "Probably not, but I'm not really sure of my feelings yet. Shelley is younger than you, no argument there. I still find her interesting, arousing even. Both you and she have come on to me. I don't mind that but I'm not sure what I want let alone who I want yet." I also found Cass and Ange interesting - though given their own stated preferences I wouldn't try to date either of them before they had lost their own contests. I wouldn't mention that to anyone yet, nor the fact that I could see there being a wider pool once I considered those of Shelley's class also turning 18 or those between her and Fiona's age or even a little older who I'd not investigated because I thought I was too old. Being hit on at the Prom showed how desperate some of the females in town were. I didn't want to hurt either Fiona or Shelley but my horizons were broader than I'd imagined possible only days earlier and it was this dinner with Fiona that made me appreciate the opportunities open to me. For the first time since we had agreed to the ban on sex I was glad Fiona and I wouldn't be able to tumble into bed together. I didn't want to feel obligated to her because of sex. Though I intended looking around town over the next couple of weeks I wouldn't be trying to get sex there either even if I found someone I liked. I didn't really want a series of one night stands though I thought that might be possible and a part of me was childish enough to be greedy. I held Fiona's hand and smiled. If she thought it was for her she wasn't entirely wrong. She was still there on the list of possibles and probably at the top. I was sincere in saying I didn't know who I wanted but I couldn't tell her why any more. --- "Ignore it. Ange and Fiona have keys." "You know I can't." Howard disengaged himself from Prue and went to the door. Cass had heard Nick greet Richie and gave Howard a similar treat. "At least he's not dishevelled and I can't taste pussy on his lips," Cass thought. She raised his right hand and kissed his finger tips. No sign there either. Cass didn't know how she would have taken his breaking of the ban if that had been the case but she knew how to interrupt Prue at whatever she was up to. She strode into the lounge and found it empty; the sound of water running led her to the kitchen. "Good timing. Grab a tea towel, Cass." Prue rinsed the suds off a plate and put it in the rack to drain. Cass just stared. "I'll need some space for the pans in a minute." "I'll get it. Sit down Cass; we won't be long." Cass wasn't stupid. "No. You sit and I'll get them." "If you're sure. In that case I'll put them away." Between the three of them they made short work of the clean up. Cass was confused by the domesticity she'd encountered. Hot lust? Yes. Housekeeping? Never. She wasn't to know that Howard and Prue had been learning about the inside of each other's mouth up until the doorbell rang. If it hadn't been for his willpower and their knowledge of what the consequences of going further could be, they might have already moved to the bed. Finished at the sink and having already cleaned up the work area and stove, Prue linked her arm possessively through Howard's and thanked Cass for her assistance as though it *WAS* her place to do so. She had coffee cups ready and only had to turn the kettle on. "Would you like a coffee Cass?" "Thank you." "Would you pass another cup please, dear? How would you like it Cass?" "White and one please." "Just like Howard. Thank you, dear." Prue wasn't worried about piling it on. Howard could see what she was up to and Cass was reacting as she had hoped. "Howard, why don't you take Cass into the lounge. It's cosier in there and I can manage here." She lifted her face and he obliged with a kiss. Cass glared at her and then followed Howard into the lounge. He indicated the three seater and Cass took the middle place thinking to isolate Prue from Howard. He mentally shrugged and took his former seat. Mischievous as well, and wanting to see if Prue could take as well as she gave, he put his arm behind Cass' shoulder and she took the hint and leaned in. She lifted her hand to Howard's cheek and turned his face to hers. "I'm looking forward to our date. Perhaps you'd like another preview." She kissed him, warming up even further when he responded. She broke for a chance to swallow and then, hearing cups being put onto a tray, she started over. Prue had expected Cass to fight back and wasn't dismayed. Cass had taken the seat next to Howard but she hadn't got the best of the deal yet. "Here you are Cass. I'll just put yours over here dear, they are a bit hot still." Cass thought, "Then why did you give me mine to hold bitch!?" She kept control over her tongue though. "It's nice sitting there with Howard. I guess you are entitled to some time next to him under the rules. I'll just sit here and watch. I might get some pointers." Prue knelt on the carpet and leaned between Howard's knees so he had to spread them wider. She rested an arm over the outside of the leg next to Cass, effectively isolating her, and then laid her cheek on his lap so she could look up at them. "I thought there was a no touching rule," challenged Cass. "I can't do anything I wouldn't do with my father. I used to lay my head on his lap all the time." Cass realised Howard was enjoying himself and the situation too much. "You like two women squabbling over you, don't you?" "Well I haven't exactly heard any squabbling. In fact Prue has been rather hospitable since you arrived and I certainly haven't heard much from you where you tried to stir up trouble." "Much? What?" "Well you did question whether she was following the rules. That might have been intended to get a bite but if so it failed and it's equally possible you were just looking out for my reputation." "So you're happy with her resting there?" "I don't see that she's doing any harm." "I guess I'd better leave then. It seems I'm intruding." Howard caught Cass' shoulder as she tried to stand. "Hang on!" Cass resisted. "Cassandra! Will you please sit down, drink the coffee you're about to spill and talk to me." "'s probably poisoned." "Nah. If you were Nick then I might put a laxative in it but you're okay. You can still go if you want." Cass poked her tongue out at Prue. "Finished?" "Not quite." Cass blew on her coffee and took a sip. "Tastes okay. Might not be a big enough dose to tell so I guess I'll have to finish it to see for sure one way or the other." Howard shook his head. "Young ladies, I'm approaching fifty - a lofty peak you probably can't even see from your youth. Prue is not quite 18 and, if I recall correctly Cass, you are 21." "Yes." "That's a gap of three years. With me it's twenty seven and thirty years. It will be a while before I'm only twice your age. Pass my coffee please Prue." He let her settle again so he could concentrate on not showering her with the hot beverage. "Thank you. Now many people close to my age would either consider me a fool or a pervert but I don't care about that. I enjoy the attention and the kissing and whatever and, yes Cass, I even enjoy the rivalry. Now I know what I'm getting out of your joint interest but I'm not sure if you realise the grumpy old fart you're both trying to land. I suspect Fiona and Ange are only after your fathers to get away from me. Nevertheless, I'll try to sell myself truthfully so you know I'm not just aches and pains." The young women looked at each other and shook their heads. One thing they could and did agree on was that Howard - indeed all of us - liked to exaggerate our age and pending incapacities. "While I was married I kept my wife happy, at least in bed. I haven't said anything to my girls before, and I don't know if they were already aware but I guess they are old enough to know now. My wife had a liking for ladies and occasionally we had a friend join us. Both of them were bi and I was called on to do my duty for both in turn. Now I don't pretend I have anywhere near the stamina I had then but I do know that everything still works and I don't need any little pills. What I'm trying to say is that perhaps there isn't any need for a squabble." Howard paused. "You want both of us?" He looked down at Prue and smoothed the hair on the back of her head. "It would solve one problem." "What? Making a decision?" "Well there would still need to be decisions. Firstly, could you both share a man? Then, would you want to? Not necessarily the same question. Then comes *HOW* would you be prepared to share him." "How 'How'?" "Taking turns, sharing a bed, sharing the loving." "What do you mean by sharing a bed and sharing the loving?" "Sharing the bed is like taking turns except you don't go somewhere else when it's not your turn. Sharing the loving means it's never not your turn - even if I'm not there." The fictional 'man' was replaced by a definite Howard. "What - with each other?" "That's what my wife did with her friend - up until the day they decided they loved each other more than me, or the girls. Small towns are too hard to come out in. They're too hard to have an affair in if you don't have your husbands approval. We divorced, they moved elsewhere. Life goes on." "And you'd risk that again?" "It has its attractions despite the risk." Prue and Cass looked at each other in a far different light. Could they be partners instead of rivals? "I don't know...," started Cass. "Could be fun," countered Prue, merely to be contrary to Cass' wishes and to appear to be the one more in tune with Howard's desires. "How about an experiment to see what is possible?" "What sort of experiment?" "Would both of you please stand up." He stood as well and turned to Prue. "Show me what kissing is all about." Prue wasn't the least bit intimidated by Cass' presence as she flowed against Howard's body, took his face in her palms and started nibbling on his bottom lip. Cass watched, and realised she had a fight on her hands - Prue might not have had much opportunity to practise in this small town but that hadn't stopped her reading up to be prepared. Hell, *CASS* hadn't had much opportunity! The nibbling changed to a mutual goldfish-feeding style of kiss that eased into some visible tongue interaction before Prue's hands met behind Howard's neck and her interlocking fingers held him in place as she drilled for oil with her tongue. The kiss seemed to last longer than it did and Howard cuddled Prue afterwards. "I bet you don't kiss Jerry like that." He released her. "Cass, you want to show what you can do?" Cass was willing to face the challenge and moved in closer to Howard as Prue stepped aside. She ignored his lips, placing her cheek against his as she took hold of his earlobe with her lips and then her teeth. Her breath tickled his ear and then she ran her tongue down along the bottom edge of his jaw. She kissed his neck and followed the hollow where his collarbones met, hinting at going lower before changing direction and travelling straight up over his chin. By that stage there was no need for any erotic stimulation of their lips and Cass pressed hers to Howard's before invading with an insistent tongue. She didn't dive deep but instead kept it active against his before finishing with three simple pecks against his lips. "Mmm. I like that too. Thank you." Cass turned her smile to Prue in a "so there" fashion. "Now, the experiment. Prue, do you think you could kiss Cass like you did me?" Howard chose Prue first since she seemed more adventurous and possibly had more incentive being the younger of the pair and thus the likely underdog. "You want her to what?" "Well choosing one of you would be hard; accepting both of you is an attractive alternative. If you both found you could accept each other as well then perhaps that is possible." "You're not just being a dirty old man getting off watching two young things together?" "Cass, of course I'll likely get off watching you two together if that's how things pan out. I agree that probably fits with being a dirty old man as well. I disagree with the 'just' part. While I was married, my wife and I enjoyed sharing our lives with a third woman. I miss that flexibility even more than the sex. "Now a couple of weeks ago there was no suggestion that I was likely to get any romance in what was left of my life and then suddenly I was being swamped. Both of you have said you wanted to date me though you have also said you both know me well enough not to need dating to be able to say you want more. "I can accept that but I'd be forever kicking myself if I wasn't honest with you even at the risk both of you leave never to return. I would like us to have the chance for all of us to learn to live together as lovers; if that isn't possible then perhaps we can live together with each of you being just my lover. We will have to see but the first test is still to see if you can be physically intimate in a small way - hence a passionate kiss." Prue hadn't needed the explanation. If Howard needed her to kiss Cass to gain his approval she was willing to do so. As had been seen at the Prom, a boy dating two girls with their knowledge and approval was accepted as one solution to the inequality between male and female numbers. Similarly two girls romantically involved was even more common - and accepted - since Howard's wife had left. Prue hadn't asked any of the co-girlfriends whether *THEY* got up to anything together but she didn't mind herself. Cass was different to cuddle against than Howard. She held herself more rigidly but Prue's first observation was that she wasn't conscious of his prick. Howard grew hard easily and she liked to lean into it regardless of the "hands off" rule currently in force. Then, Cass was also more pneumatic; when Prue's breasts pushed into Cass' the feeling was quite different from Howard's ribcage. Cass' cheeks were smooth; there was no trace of stubble, five o'clock shadow, when Prue lightly ran her fingers down Cass' face and back along her jaw so she could trap the young woman's neck between interlocked fingers. The actual kiss held only one surprise for Prue - she'd expected more differences between kissing a male and a female. There was a subtle flavour difference - Cass had drunk some herbal tea prior to Ange's arrival - but otherwise all Prue could pick out was probably due to Cass' initial hesitation. Cass found herself in a quandary. She didn't want to concede defeat and just let Prue have Howard but she hadn't considered kissing another woman before. Of course, except for the kisses she'd given Howard earlier, there had been quite a gap between any kisses that didn't involve family and there was little to compare with *THOSE*. Cass had been the aggressor when she had kissed Howard and now she passively defended herself against Prue's assault. It was exciting to have someone *WANT* to kiss you, to have them invade your personal space, to hold you, to enter your mouth. Cass no longer cared that Prue was another young woman, she accepted her and began to kiss back. When they came up for air Howard put a hand on each one's shoulder. "Wow! I'm ready to believe you two are lovers already. I won't ask whether you liked it but do you think you'd like to do it again if it wasn't an experiment?" Cass and Prue exchanged grins. Howard settled back onto the lounge, taking the middle seat and patting the cushions either side of him. "Now we know what's possible, let's talk about what we want - and perhaps I can get some more of your kisses as well. *********************************************************

Author: Pescador del Valle Title: Bruce's Story Part: Chapter 2 of 4 Universe: PdV's Boy Meets Girl Meets Girl Summary: Teens meet and learn together while out sailing. Keywords: MmFf, oral, voy, exhib, inc, rom Language: English Copyright: 2004 ********************************************* * WARNING! * * This text file contains sexually explicit * * material. If you do not wish to read this * * type of literature, or you are under age, * * PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! * ********************************************* Comments appreciated : see Pescador del Valle on www.asstr.org/authors.html ********************************************************* Sixteen year old Bruce had been asked to join his Uncle Frank on a weekend yacht cruise to provide some companionship for Maeve, the similarly aged daughter of Frank's new girlfriend Denise. At first Maeve had been cold towards Bruce but once she had gotten to know him they hit it off remarkably well. Their own expedition to a secluded beach while the "oldies" soaked up the sun on board had turned adventurous in other ways culminating in a mutual loss of virginity. ********************************************* Maeve's self-consciousness about her bigger than usual size and her inhibitions towards boys had been taken care of by a couple of large and overly strong rum and colas before we went for our swim. The result - a very pleasant interlude. We had been swimming around without the bottoms of our bathing suits using her top as camouflage for anyone watching from the boat. This had turned out to be ineffective when we had been forced to walk out of the water in the full view, as I only found out later, of my uncle as he was getting a drink for his sunbathing guest. --- It had been close to lunchtime when we set out snorkelling and had ended up on the beach. We hadn't wanted to eat so soon before going swimming but we had taken quite a while over our introduction to lovemaking (a desire to keep the experience going warred in both of us with a desire to achieve a release). Besides, fucking seemed to make us hungry! We reclaimed our clothes and grabbed the masks, snorkels and flippers we had left on the beach. An outcrop of rocks extended into the water from a headland on one side of the cove. With the ebbing tide dropping away to expose them it gave us ample resting points, if required, on our way back to the boat. This wasn't necessary as snorkelling didn't use up a lot of energy. However our route meant that we were coming up on the boat from a different, and thus unexpected, direction. The movement of the yacht about the anchor chain as the tide ebbed also confused matters for those onboard. And so we happened to reach the boat without detection. We hadn't called out in case the adults were hard at it. Who knows what little blackmail items we might be able to pick up. (Well points to win arguments maybe - "Why can't I - I saw you doing it with Frank" - that sort of thing.) I quietly put our gear into a crate next to the ladder without going on deck and we paddled down the length of the boat listening carefully as we went. A knotted rope hung down from the bowsprit to allow a swimmer to climb back up in case of emergencies and I eased myself up it while Maeve waited in the water below. As I peered over the side of the boat I realised it was a good thing we had been quiet. Denise was lying on a towel with another rolled up to cushion her head while Frank was on his stomach with HIS head buried between her thighs. I was looking almost directly from his feet to her head and could watch his head move around while she whispered encouragements. Her breasts had flattened against her chest and I could see no sign of those mounds from my viewpoint. I was reluctant to go higher in case I was spotted. I COULD see Denise's hands however. They were busy moulding her tit flesh like plasticine. I was trying to make a note of what she liked doing to herself - you pick up what you can, when you can and anyway you can - when Maeve gave my leg a tug. I slowly lowered myself to avoid making a sound and silently gave her a thumbs up; as we had expected, we had caught the oldies in a somewhat compromising situation. I indicated to Maeve that she could stand on my shoulders as a more stable platform to make her own observations. She hauled herself hand over hand up the rope using my knee, arm and shoulder for assistance while I held onto the bottom of the rope. Standing on her human platform she could just see over the side and was also treated to the view described above. Down below I had been slightly drowned by the runoff from Maeve's bathers but could now hear the action from above as Denise got more audible as her excitement increased. I personally would have kept quiet and seen what happened next but Maeve was feeling malicious. She might have come to enjoy the trip more than she had expected but that wasn't the same as forgiving her mother for insisting she came; I might have been a complete jerk and she would have then been stuck with me for the weekend, instead of being stuck by me - if she could manage it. I was horrified to hear her voice interrupting her mother's approaching climax. "Hi Mother! Watcha doin'?" Frank must have choked. I heard some scrabbling on deck and Denise spoke. "What the hell do you think you are doing there?" "We just came back to the boat and Bruce was helping me aboard." "Why didn't you use the ladder aft?" asked my uncle. "This was closer. Why? Would it have mattered? If you like we can swim back there and you can continue with whatever you were doing." "You be civil, young lady!" her embarrassed mother admonished her. "We just came back for lunch but it looks like you've already eaten." I was almost choking by this time. If it had been me who had interrupted them, I could expect Frank to let me know in no uncertain terms of his displeasure had it been anything other than an accident for which I was immediately apologetic. If he noticed the snorkelling gear he would know we hadn't come to the rope first - then where would I be. And now Maeve has to make double entendres - yes I DO know the term. Fortunately Frank, having gotten over the initial shock of having a teenage girl surprise him while he was busy eating her mother, was enjoying the low-level conflict between parent and not-so-childlike child. "You had better come aboard then but I think you should go aft." She did it again! "Oh! Do you prefer going up the back way? I thought the front way would be more fun." With that she stepped off my shoulders and dropped into the water beside me before either adult could venture a reply. We boarded the boat (now the gear wouldn't be an issue) and came forward to where Denise now had her second towel held over her bosom and covering to her knees. What a pity; I was hoping to compare mother and daughter a little closer. I wondered at first whether she had been in the sun too long but soon realised the redness only came from embarrassment. "Can we get you anything?" I attempted to defuse the situation. "No, thank you." Denise's only relief came from the thought was that at least it had only been her daughter who had caught her. "I'll go down and freshen our drinks." "Bite your tongue Maeve!" I urgently wished my thoughts to her. I led the way with Frank trailing behind, eyeing Maeve's ample ass as she followed me. It was now covered by the bottom part of her aqua suit and he thought back to his earlier view of us on the shore. This made him look past at me again. Yep! No mistaking my predominantly red trunks from the pale patch he had spied and he was also sure that Maeve had been partially naked as well. Maeve borrowed his cabin to change in and Frank took the opportunity to have a quiet talk to me. "So what did you get up to?" His "innocent" question produced the guilty reaction he had expected. "Oh there were a few nice fish around the rocks; a lot of sea urchins and some starfish. I spotted some angel fish types and a couple with bright yellow tails." "I saw a couple of white tails myself." He nudged my arm with his fist. "I hope you were careful. It can be a little dangerous when there are just the two of you and you get into deep water. I wouldn't like to think of you having an accident. It could affect the rest of your lives." He had been staring right in my eyes as he said this and, although his words could be taken literally, I read between the lines - his raised eyebrows showed he understood something had being going on. "Yes we were careful - as you can see we got back here save and sound." Frank put his mouth by my ear and whispered. "Okay. I haven't said anything to Denise. I'd appreciate it if you can get Maeve to ease off on her mother." Was this a bit of subtle blackmail on his part? He went back on deck while I continued to prepare a meal for Maeve and myself. When she came out she was wearing a light wrap-around skirt and a loose blouse. She said "Thank you" as I passed her a plate and indicated the selection of cold meats and salad we had available and then she grabbed me and gave me a warm kiss. I took the opportunity to test her mood by clutching her ass with one of my hands and pulling her to me. To my great pleasure she responded by putting her arm around my neck and her tongue down my throat. "Mmm, later - let's eat", she said with an implied promise. She sat at the small table and I asked what she would like to drink." "Can I have another of your mixes?" I must have looked doubtful. "Ple-e-e-ze - not anywhere near as strong though. I had too much before." Maeve wanted something to make her a little more carefree without becoming careless. I was more worried she was depending too much upon the alcohol to aid her fun and didn't want to be an accomplice if she was creating a problem for herself. We made quick work on our meal and as we ate I let Maeve know my uncle had seen us leaving the water and how I was pretty sure he suspected we had been fooling around in some way. I added his comment about not telling Denise about us. "He can talk! At least we were in private." "Well so were they or so they thought. He asked if you would please stop teasing your mother." "I suppose I could but I think we could get away with a bit more if you're game. Your uncle seems to be a bit easy going; how is he really likely to respond if I started to act a bit sexy towards you?" "Aren't you more interested in how I am likely to respond?" I joked. "He's alright. I mean I could always talk to him about sex and things. He gave me some good advice in the past; I just couldn't seem to put it into practice." We both grinned. "He's pretty open but he must fancy your Mum and might get a bit pissed off with us if we messed things up between them." "Mother is cock hungry; she's not going to let any man get away for long. I don't know that anything would turn her off if he's her only option until we get back home tomorrow. I'm sorry for him if he IS seriously interested in her though; her track record isn't too good." I was willing to be led around by my prick I suppose but regardless of the reason I found myself agreeing to go along with her even though she hadn't told me of any specific plans. "You tidy things up then join me up front. Just wear your swimming trunks." She grabbed a towel and was come. When I went forward I found Maeve sitting next to her mother with Frank leaning against the railing as he sat facing them. I joined him, looking straight at Maeve. Denise had put on her shorts and a t-shirt though I could see she hadn't bothered with a bra or bikini top under it. Maeve was ready to make her move. "I need to work on my tan", she announced. "When I was swimming earlier I noticed I was all patches of brown and ... white where my sleeves and straps have gotten in the way so, if you don't mind..." I don't think Denise noticed the little pause while Maeve looked directly at Frank before she said "white" but the emphasis was missed by neither of us males. She had been unbuttoning the front of her blouse as she spoke and, without waiting for any objections, removed it and turned to lie on her stomach. She had only flashed those lovely tits at us for a fraction of a second but her ante was on the table and she was waiting for the bids in reply from the other players. "Maeve! You should have more respect for your host; and for poor Bruce there." Maeve rolled onto her back - it was only polite to look at people when you spoke to them, after all. "Oh Mother! I'm sure neither of them is worried by a bit of tit. I mean Frank has been looking at yours for half the morning hasn't he?" Considering the size of those mammaries, any view would have to be described as more than "a bit". Frank wasn't phased in least by the large pale mounds. "It's not a problem Denise", he said, "and Bruce's parents have never been worried about the kids joining them for a swim in the nude in their pool." Maeve turned over to look at me. "You never told me that!" Frank had joined me in watching those orbs bounce into view as she turned and I looked over at Denise who wasn't impressed with his stare. She didn't want him distracted by her daughter. "You do look as though you need some sun and I'm really not much better; so, if the menfolk really don't mind, I might as well join you and get a little more sun too." She lifted her t-shirt over her head and dropped it to her side. Now it was Maeve's turn to be annoyed as I stared at her mother's equally ample chest. She was amazed though when she realised both Frank and I were moving our heads from side to side as we compared the mother/daughter matching outfits. It was like watching a long rally at the tennis. Denise's first bet had been made. Would Maeve raise, call or fold? "That's a good idea. My legs need a bit more sun too; they're nowhere near as brown as yours." She hiked the light material up to expose her legs to the sun and, as a consequence, "accidentally" revealed to my uncle and myself that she had forgotten to put any knickers on under the skirt. The fold opened to show an expanse of white thigh but her mother was not able to appreciate the additional view afforded us guys. I looked over at Frank and he turned to me and grinned. "Did you decide which fish you preferred?" "Definitely the white tailed ones, Uncle." Maeve got the message and smiled at Frank. Denise didn't quite understand and concentrated on keeping Frank's attentions. She hadn't counted on her daughter sweetening the pot even further - seen and raised. "Frank, do you mind if I take my skirt off? It's hotter than I thought." "Yeah, right - and being directly exposed to the sun will be so much cooler", I thought, admiring her guts in fooling around with an adult like that. He half-choked, "No. That's alright." "Bruce. Do you mind?" "No." She undid the tie and slipped it through the hole in the waistband, teasing us as she slowly unwrapped it from her waist and legs, leaving it on top of her towel. She had demurely closed her legs again so the view reduced to the triangle of thick hair covering her pubic area. "Maeve!" Denise didn't know what to say. "What Mother? It's only how you were sunbathing before after all and Frank and Bruce said they didn't mind." "But ...", she sputtered before deciding on an argument, "Frank may have been here but that's different; Bruce wasn't." "Er ...", I owned up, "actually I was." I thought I should make a little side bet of my own. "I was up the rope before Maeve. Sorry. I did see you, and if you don't mind me saying, you looked absolutely wonderful. You have nothing to be ashamed of." Uncle Frank's book of courtship rules - number whatever : "Always compliment a woman when possible but be sincere." I hadn't ignored his "lessons"; I just hadn't been that good at the practicals. Denise obviously had conflicting emotions. Was there anyone who HADN'T seen her getting her pussy eaten? But then Frank obviously liked her body and now a sixteen year old youth was also praising it. "I suppose it is a bit silly covering up; it is all fairly natural anyway. Oh well then, go ahead." Maeve added another chip to the growing pile. (I'll see you ...) "Why don't you get rid of those shorts then and finish off the tanning session we interrupted?" It wasn't exactly a tanning session we had disturbed but I wasn't about to quibble; Frank's head had been in the way before and I was hoping for a better view so I could further compare mother and daughter. Denise went with the flow, bending her knees then lifting her bum up to slip the shorts past. Her bush was at least the colour of her hair and matched her daughter's both in colour and thickness of curl. Maeve spoke yet again. (... and raise you ...) "It's a bit unfair the guys end up with tan lines though. I noticed Bruce needs to get rid of a few white areas." Denise looked over at my teenage body. I was apparently tanned from head to foot; the only areas that could be white were under my shorts. What was her daughter implying? "If it's okay?" I looked at Frank. He nodded. Well after all, the party was getting more interesting - there were two naked women on his yacht now! I didn't bother asking Denise - Maeve's few rules of engagement included simply to keep pushing the boundaries. And so my "vote" gave the Bare Ass Party a majority though I was a bit self-conscious of my semi-hard cock (make that hard now, damn!) being displayed before my "girlfriend's" mother. I turned to Frank. "Are you going to be the only piker?" The fact that we three were now naked shouldn't really have made any difference to whether or not Frank stripped as well. I know we had been naked around the pool at home with all the rest of our family and no-one ever exerted or would have submitted to any pressure to be naked or clothed; here though Maeve and I were trying to steer things our way. My comment was more a stimulus to get him to do what he already wanted without him having to appear a letch in front of "my" nymphette. (I later saw what Ruebens had done with his nymphs and thought Maeve would have fitted right in.) He decided that pulling off his shorts while sitting down was undignified and stood to proudly bare his "manhood" in an exhibitionistic display. To give him his due however, he had every reason to be proud of his "attributes". Maeve gave a gasp of amazement. She had been satisfied with my performance (and appearance) earlier in the day but had never imagined seeing something like this in the flesh. As Frank sat again she turned to her mother, "I see why you like him." Denise had the grace to blush. "He does have other qualities as well." "Yes I know - I saw, remember?" Denise had been trying very hard to forget and wished she could make the rest of us lose that particular memory as well. Maeve looked at me and her expression indicated I was missing a cue. I thought back over what had been said and hoped I was saying what she was wanting me to. "Denise, Frank. I want to apologise for watching you earlier. I didn't really intend spying (not-so-white lie!) but it was just so interesting. You both seemed to be enjoying it and I don't really know anything about making a woman feel god; I was just trying to find out a bit more." Maeve smiled; I was on the right track. "I know it sounds a bit strange but would you mind explaining it to me?" They both looked a bit doubtful. While it's obviously embarrassing to discuss your sexual activities with a third party, it was worse when one's daughter was also an observer. Frank was otherwise fairly comfortable about the idea of discussing sex frankly. If I had asked him alone I would have gotten a blow by blow (bad choice of cliche?) description of oral sex - both male and female. Now it was more than a little strange. I didn't give them a chance to say "No". "For instance, do you just kiss there with your lips or do you use your tongue?" The direct question had them in a quandary. Neither was prepared to say "just drop it" in case the other was thinking differently and I wasn't giving them time to pick up on any non-verbal clues; I merely got more personal. "Did it help you to squeeze your breasts as well?" This, directed at Denise, brought an embarrassed muttered "Yes". "So what do you actually do Uncle Frank?" He gave in and started describing how he ran his tongue along Denise's furry crack, picking up the sweet juices and pressing his anointed tongue against her sensitive clitoris. Well he didn't quite phrase it that way and he had to be nudged along a bit with supplementary questions but he did impart the knowledge not to dive straight at the clit! Maeve wasn't idle; while I researched Frank's knowledge and experience she was querying her mother about how it felt and what she particularly liked Frank to do. Our questions overlapped, one conversation raising questions for the other, back and forth. We both pleaded misunderstanding and ignorance (which I am sure Frank at least must have doubted). "You keep talking about Denise's clit. Where is it actually?" Frank tried to describe her anatomy but I kept having trouble following him. "Why don't you just point to it for him?" spouted Maeve. Frank wasn't sure how Denise would take this suggestion but she finally figured "What the hell!" Things were strange enough; what was one more. She bent her knees and spread her legs to display her pussy to us. Maeve moved around to watch as well; this didn't particularly please her mother but, short of getting dressed again, she felt herself trapped by circumstances. "Now look carefully. There are two sets of lips around Denise's vagina and clit." Uncle Frank was in lecture mode and we had better pay attention! Slim chance of us skipping class today. Denise's inner lips were folded together inside her puffier outer lips with their light covering of curly hairs. It was my first close up of a grown up's intimate details. In the past I had seen my sister's bare childish pussy - all puff and no appeal - and the exterior of those women (mainly my own mother) around our pool - all fur and no detail. Frank pointed. "At the front where the folds meet is the clitoris. It gets a little hard when she is aroused; when her body is ready for sex." Maeve and I looked over Denise's legs for a close look at her, up until now, relatively private area. "Where do the juices come from?" I knew the answer but also knew the opening to her cunt was concealed by her lips. "Mainly from the lining of the vagina - just inside the opening." "I can't see any opening." Frank was steeling himself to physically rather than verbally demonstrate (and wondering what Denise's reaction would be) when Maeve seized the opportunity. "Let me", she said while she was already spreading her mother's vulva to display the pink opening of her cunt hole in the browner skin of her pussy. Her mother didn't have time to react to her daughter's touch before it was too late; she was stretching the inner lips over the surrounding mounds which reminded me of levee banks along a river. "Oh she is wet already", cooed Maeve. "Here Bruce, put your finger there and see how wet she is." Frank and Denise had definitely lost the initiative. I reached in and dipped my finger into that wellspring. When I got no objections I thrust it a little deeper, Denise now lifting to meet my hand, then rubbed it along until the two inner lips met over a pea sized bump which looked like a miniature of the head of my prick peaking out of the surrounding skin. When my finger touched this Denise shivered and I drew my hand back. "Sorry", said innocent little me (with my cock standing at attention) "Did I hurt you?" "No it's alright but I don't think you should be touching me there." I raised my finger and smelt the juices I could see glistening on them. "You smell nice." Frank responded with his own compliment. "She tastes nice too." Maeve lay back and exposed herself in imitation of her mother. She spread her own lips with her left hand and proceeded to dip her right index finger into the entrance of her now wet hole so she could spread the juices around. Frank and I watched her masturbatory actions while her mother lay beside her trying hard, but unsuccessfully, to avoid looking at her daughter's hand movements. "If I touch myself here it feels good but I have to keep my finger wet. Does a tongue feel the same Mother?" Denise admitted she found Frank's tongue much nicer. "I wish I knew what it felt like. Would you show me Bruce?" We had gone past checking with Frank and Denise for permission. "I'm willing but I'm not sure how to; still, if you let me know if I'm doing things right or wrong, I'll have a go." Frank wasn't going to complain about seeing a live sex show. Hell, it was only what we had spied upon! Denise wasn't quite so sure her little girl should get involved. This warred with her prurient desires and her own need for release following the earlier interruption and all this talk. She had given in and was now openly looking at Maeve. Her maternal instincts hadn't put up much of a fight! I knelt down between Maeve's thunder thighs. "Is this right?" I looked briefly at Frank and then planted a kiss right on her pussy while he and Denise watched with mutual interest. Maeve arched her hips as I licked along her sweet trail. "Yes, that's nice. I agree with you Mother, tongue beats fingers hands down." She looked over at Frank's large penis, now no longer handing down. It hadn't really grown, just hardened, and was now pointing skywards and twitching as he in turn watched us. As I took a short break to find a more comfortable position Frank leaned over and rubbed his fingers through the juices I had only begun to taste. He raised them to his lips and ran his tongue across them while the women watched. "Delicious. You taste just like your mother." He wet them again right in front of my face, dipping his fingers deeper into her hot box. Then he gave me further instructions. "Just try to put your tongue in here as far as you can go." He pushed two fingers back in and Maeve wriggled at his touch. "Then lick along here ..." He moved his fingers between her inner lips. "... and across her clit." He pushed a finger tip on each side of that organ and Maeve gasped. Crawling over to Denise he offered his fingers to her. "Doesn't she taste nice?" Denise hesitated then finally tasted her daughter's slimy secretions. The whole idea was making her hotter; she grabbed his ear and pulled him closer. "Get down there and start tasting mine!" Like all good boys, he did as he was told. As my uncle went down on her mother and I resumed eating her, Maeve reached out and took her mother's hand in hers; their fingers squeezed together. Denise returned Maeve's smile, a little weakly; you weren't supposed to do these things with your kids present - Hell, most people didn't do them with anyone but their partner present and in some places it was in itself an illegal act! Frank was busy eating Denise's pussy while I was learning just how nice muff diving could be. Maeve's pussy was a wonderful experience for a sixteen year old boy; the smell alone was enough to get my blood racing, the taste was an unbelievable mixture of the sweet and the sensual, the feel against my tongue was all so new and different that I was too busy exploring at one stage instead of concentrating on Maeve's pleasure - she soon let me know she wasn't happy about that! Maeve didn't complain much though as she was enjoying everything I was doing anyway; it was just that some of the things I was doing to her were so nice that she preferred I kept doing them rather than changing around. I found my head being held forcefully to her pussy, one hand tightly gripping each ear as she guided my mouth where she wanted it. We were both learning faster than we could ever have believed possible. It is with a sense of pride that I can state that Maeve came well before her mother; and quite noisily at that. I don't know how much was showing off though. Denise was more of a moaner; she expressed her pleasure as a series of guttural grunts and sighs, sometimes adding enough voice to make it sound like she was in pain. Eventually both of them were suitably pleased by our individual performances that they hauled us up to their respective mouths where they could lick our lips clean of all their juices. I don't know about Denise but Frank couldn't seem to get enough - I know I would quite happily have gone back for more. Maeve let me rest my head on her chest so I was leering across at her mother's bare breasts. Denise didn't notice at first but then must have somehow sensed my stare. She turned suddenly towards me and caught me looking at her tits. At the movement of her head I of course looked up and found her watching me - boy, did I blush! Then she smiled and I felt things couldn't get any better. I was right I suppose as they seemed to actually get worse. Frank decided that it was time to up-anchor and I had to lose both my comfortable pillow and my pleasant view. Oh well, the "girls" were replete for the moment - we weren't going to interest them in much else until they had a chance to recover. ----- The sun was approaching the horizon as we pulled into a lovely seaside town and tied up at a convenient space along the short jetty. Frank had jumped ship trusting to me to gently ease the boat into place while he tied the mooring rope to a large bollard. We had secured the sails earlier and then motored in. He helped the two ladies onto the dock while I secured the cabin. Neatly dressed and arm in arm we strolled along an esplanade until we came to a small restaurant. Frank held the door open for the rest of us and we looked around at the dcor; the walls had been jammed with an excess of all things nautical. This at least matched the seafood-based menu. With fresh fish, prawns, squid, octopus and a range of shellfish to choose from in an even wider range of dishes, you would either have to be a dedicated meat eater or a full vegetarian not to find something you could enjoy. Though Denise ordered a carafe of the house wine and Frank allowed himself a light beer, Maeve and I were limited to soft drink since we were underage. Maeve only pouted a little before smiling at me to indicate she was only joking. Since there were other diners close by, our conversation avoided any mention of the day's earlier activities except for those specifically relating to innocent sailing matters. Maeve had had her interest whetted for matters nautical as well as matters carnal and plied Frank with a number of questions that showed she had at least paid as much attention during earlier part of the day as in the latter. At the same time her leg was rubbing against mine and occasionally her fingers would stray under the long table cloth to stimulate the head of my penis while she covered her actions by "innocently", if not politely, leaning across the table to help herself to the shared bowls of salad and salsa. The first time I almost gave the game away but after that I sat there wishing she would repeat her caresses more frequently. She told me later that she found me "cute"; I didn't think that was quite as good as the "charming" rating she had already given my uncle - she found him both handsome and witty, and appreciated how he was attentive to both of the women. I didn't doubt that he would appear more sophisticated than a sixteen year old but it wasn't entirely one sided; Maeve found it was easier to deal with someone who had a similar level of inexperience. We had an almost normal meal; an unusual double date - the sort of thing that one would expect would occur well BEFORE people got naked as couples, not immediately AFTER getting naked as a group. At the time I could only hope that when I had to go out with a "real" girlfriend's parents for the first time it all went as easily. I had no way of knowing whether that hurdle was actually being passed at the time. --- Denise was just a little concerned at how close her daughter and I were holding each other as we walked along in front of them; she worried that her "little" girl was growing up too fast, she was only sixteen after all. Considering what had gone on earlier, her concerns seemed a little late; Maeve wasn't worried, she was eager to get her mother off to bed so we could investigate further. I of course was perfectly neutral in the matter; I just wanted to go to sleep - Pigs! I cast off while Frank started the engine and he moved the boat out into the harbour so we could moor in sight of the town lights while not being under others' eyes. We had had coffees at the restaurant so, having dropped anchor, it was simply a matter of having a wash and off to bed. Franks yacht had a small shower and, though it was only a low pressure trickle, it was warm and there was plenty of fresh water at present so we could all have a quick splash - no room for anybody else though! Maeve and I waited on deck while first Denise and then Frank went through; we were enjoying the evening and each other's company and surprisingly were in no hurry to go inside. I know that I was excited by the prospect of further sex and suspected Maeve was similarly contemplating an erotic evening. The opportunity to just cuddle quietly under the stars for a while was too good to miss though; we had the whole night ahead of us after all! Besides - if Denise and Frank were busy in their cabin when we went below they wouldn't be as inclined to investigate any noises from our quarters. We had been bid goodnight by each of our shipmates as they turned in - Frank had really rushed through his shower - and were standing looking out over the broken streaks the town lights made across the water. At first Maeve's arm was around my waist and mine rested over her shoulder blades. We were still dressed up (no point changing twice) and the rapidly cooling night sea air was dissipating what remained of the heat from the day. Neither of us were about to strip off on deck though we could have bobbed around in the water quite comfortably with only our heads showing - if we were willing to risk the unseen approach of a Noah's Ark. That would have been only a slight risk but you only needed to bet wrong once at that table. We talked, we hugged, we occasionally kissed; it was the sort of evening sixteen year olds normally have at the end of their first or second date - or so had been my limited experience. Our first "date" had been more like a sixteen year old's wet dream. This date soon turned more dream-like itself when Maeve moved to stand behind me; she held the rail on each side of my hips and crushed her pubes against my ass. Then ... her hands crept towards each other along the railing, hugging me more tightly as they met centrally before my fly, which I then felt sliding down. I couldn't, and didn't want to, hide my erection though its existence did make it harder for Maeve to pull my penis out through the narrow opening. She really hadn't had any practise before so I have to say she did a reasonable job; it hardly hurt. Her grip was similarly unpractised but fortunately she had an experienced instructor present and she was quite as willing to follow the helpful instructions as I had been when she had guided me through eating her pussy, or earlier still sucking and fondling her tits. She allowed me to reach behind and lift the front of her skirt as she slowly stroked my hard penis. I gathered the material up and, after rubbing the soft curls and vulva through the light cotton of her knickers, found my way up and over the waistband so I had more direct contact with the warm dampness. I was amazed as how "right" my hand felt in that position. My wrist rubbed over her pubes, my fingers curved to match the shape of her body, overlapping where her legs formed a narrow chasm. I was free to reach up inside to coat my digits; I was free to slide them back and forth, matching Maeve's tempo as she continued to stroke. It seemed a good strategy as both of us were able to enjoy the feel of the other's slowly moving hand and then, as our excitement grew, the tempo increased as well. Maeve was squirming against my hand and I was yearning for the little extra that would push me over the edge and allow my semen to burst forth. Her finger and thumb made a circle that now rubbed more effectively over the slight bump where my dick head made a collar as it met the shaft. The vibrations as her "O" struck it over and over did the trick and when I called out "Hold tight!" Maeve's grip changed to allow contact with all her fingers. She felt my fingers pause briefly as her own detected the passage of the first surge along the length of my prick. She had been resting her cheek against my shoulder-blade and quickly looked over the top to spy the moonlight reflecting off of the narrow spray that shot out through the railings and over the side of the boat to land noiselessly in the water below. It was an experience she had not expected - none of her friends or acquaintances had ever mentioned watching a boy come like this though a couple had explained hand jobs as a messier exercise than she was finding it. As my body relaxed (I had to ease her hand away from my penis) I was able to return to pleasuring her. She wrapped her arms around my chest and pressed her cheek over my spine as she used my body to help her stand now that her legs seemed to have stopped working properly as her own release arrived. Eventually she too had to stop me and I slipped my hand out, accidentally snapping the elastic against her abdomen ("Sorry"), and turning to hug her to me. Fortunately I had slipped back inside my pants as my prick had "shrunk" so there was no sticky mess wiping over the front of Maeve's dress. No decision whether to dry clean or to keep a souvenir needed here! We kissed; passionate but not arousing - our recovering bodies saw to that. We hugged and she let me slip my hands up under her top to firstly hold her breasts through her bra and then to fumble with the eyelets until the straps finally separated. She lifted the cups up through her top and left them sitting bunched up over her tits before encouraging me to hold the bare skin. A breast is a wonderful thing. Penis' are a marvel of hydraulics. Aesthetically they are sometimes chiselled works of art and other times ugly extrusions (or should that be intruders?) Pussies can have an attractive burger-like appearance from one angle, an emerging butterfly image from another. They can be like the forested slopes of alpine hills and valleys or the same hills left bare by the loggers, perhaps with stumps located here and there. They can remind one of hot bubbling geo-thermal pools or even the mysterious caverns found by crawling through a narrow opening at the Earth's surface. Then there is the human breast in its many varieties - sizes, contours, colours and feel. Each body part can have its own attraction but I have to confess that my preference is for mammaries. And Maeve had plenty to share. Her ample tits filled my hands; there was no way my outstretched fingers could hope to cover their expanse. As my fingers roamed in the darkness I could see the shape from memories only hours old and I found my penis returning to its earlier rigidity. "Let's go in." I hoped Maeve was recovering at a similar pace and would be as interested in finding how comfortable the bunks were when shared. I quickly showered while she used the head and was in bed when she came out. She made no attempt to hide as she stripped off her clothing before showering - it would have been a bit silly though she had been half afraid I would be turned off by her bulky appearance. I smiled and beckoned her over when she turned after putting the last of her clothes on the other bed. She had brought a nightie but didn't even consider taking it out of her small case. She leaned over and kissed me. "Warm the bed up and I'll be back soon and you can warm me up." The sight of her retreating behind was a pleasant change from some of the girls in my class who looked as if they had been through a famine. I liked her appearance and I would tell her so when she returned. ********************************************************* Continued in Chapter 3

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c July 2000 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(M+/F, MF, Inter, MM, FemDom, Incest, Mdom, ) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Title: Family Bonding Part 3 Author: C.D.E. ABSTRACT: James, naive and virginal, is engaged to Judy, the daughter of the apparently loving, caring, sharing, closely knit Smith family. James begins bonding with his new in-laws during their engagement, and after he eventually marries into the Smith family, he discovers that outward appearances of the Smith Family's image proves deceptive. CAST: Judy Smith-Fiancee/Wife Judy's Mother - Mother Smith James Jackson-Fiance/Husband James's Mother -Mother Jackson James's Aunt- Aunt Jasmine &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& CONTINUED FROM PART 2 CHAPTER 9 EVENTS FROM OUR ENGAGEMENT: Dinner With My Aunt Jasmine As Judy and I walked to my Aunt's door, the delightful aroma of food could easily be detected. I was sure that at least I could count on my Aunt's good cooking to ease the depression, hurt, as well as the shame and disgrace I felt at that moment from the earlier events I'd been subjected to. I thought surely that the day couldn't get any worse than it had already. However, as things go for me, I was wrong again. I used my key to open the door and let Judy and I in. "Hello James baby!" "M-Mother! I-I didn't know you were coming." I replied in total surprise. "Yes dear, I wanted it to be a surprise. And this must be my beautiful new daughter-in-law to be. I must say Judy, the photo he sent me doesn't even begin to do you justice." "Hello Mrs. Jackson, happy to..." Mother cut Judy off. "Mother Jackson, dear. We're practically family. Come give me a hug." Mom said to Judy. I had mixed emotions about my mother being there at this particular time. I knew eventually, she had to meet Judy. I guess I was hoping later than sooner, even if the wedding, if one was to take place, was only 6 months away. You see, my mom is rather strong willed, like my aunt, and often they can embarrass me with their over protectiveness. They both still see me as a juvenile and often treat me as such, instead of the adult I am. Some may even think they treat me as if I'm a mama's boy. I was hoping mom didn't revert to such a protective mode tonight, especially after all I'd been through earlier in the evening. My aunt is a great cook. She cooked all my favorite items, including macaroni with plenty of cheese. As I ate ravenously, Mom and Judy were exchanging small talk. I closely monitored their exchanges for any hint of talk that could be embarrassing to me. However, as soon as word of the pre-nuptial contract surfaced, I knew it was time to be vigilant and be ready to intervene and not have the conversation focusing heavily into me and Judy's personal relationship. Again, this turned out to be a disaster for me. "You are too beautiful dear, I'm sure the guys hound you for pussy a lot, don't they?" "Mother!" I blurted out, not believing my own ears. "Shush! Baby. I'm talking to your lovely fiancee." My mother directed her comment at me without even looking in my direction. "I do get propositioned a lot Mother Jackson. Men are always after my body. That's why I fell in love with James, he looked beyond that. He and I communicate and have a loving and deep emotional relationship above the skin deep level." I was even amazed at Judy's very diplomatic reply. "I'm so glad to hear that you and James are so emotionally connected. Also, Judy dear, from talking to my sister, I want you to know that as his mother, I'm pleased you also understand the significance of James's virginity and that it is a treasured asset for him to bring into your marriage." "Mother! Please! This is not the time or..." "James! Please! It's okay for your mom to talk about what's important to her, and also to me, for that matter." Judy abruptly replied as she gave me a stern look this time. Again, I felt belittled in the worse way as she continued with her reply to my mom. As I looked around, I could tell that both my Mom and Aunt seemed pleased at her action. I felt even worse upon discerning that. "Oh yes Mother Jackson, I agree with you wholeheartedly. In fact I think of it as a sort of dowry he's bringing with him. My parents, and my family for that matter, are pleased that I'm marrying a chaste groom." "James, you have a sensible girl with high moral character. She's right to have you come to the altar as a virgin and dismiss your efforts to give in and do otherwise. If playing with you little thing is necessary to maintain it, then that's the way it should be nephew." I cringed in total and absolute embarrassment. "Yes, I totally agree. I've told James that I will not be a party to him throwing away something so precious. I definitely want him to be my virginal bridegroom. I'm just so lucky to be marrying him." Judy replied with a big smile. "Judy, you've got yourself quite a catch there. Now that y'all are virtually married, that is because of the contract, I presume in order to keep yourself comfortable, sexually that is, you have trained James in the proper art of oral sexual satisfaction until you're wed? Him putting his mouth on your cunt does not constitute any violation of or compromises his virginity, but keeps you relieved while you wait for the wedding day." "M-Mother please!" "James! Shush! I'm tired of repeating myself. You'll get your turn to speak. Until then, please be quiet!" Mother's words caused my face to turn even redder, as all the other eyes in the room seem to look right through me. "Oh yes. James has excelled in that department. He's quite a natural when it comes to pleasing me with his mouth. I guess it's alright to say this now that we're all practically family." "Yes we are dear, be as candid as you wish." My Aunt replied eagerly. "He's just loves to suck my pussy. Don't you James?" I was more than blushed at the explicit nature of the discussion and of Judy's candor. "P-Please, c-can we c-change the subject and..." "Nonsense! You've been so eager to talk, well now talk and tell us something you need to talk about!" My Aunt interjected loudly. "This is a critical and important topic for newlyweds. Now answer the question!" I looked at my Aunt. Her eyes were focused hard on me. I knew the best thing to do was answer Judy. "Y-Yes Judy, I-I do." I replied with my head hung low as I ate another forkful of macaroni. "Dear, be forceful, speak up. Tell her so like you mean it. Do it again for me." My Aunt said. "D-Do I-I have to?" "Yes! Tell your fiancee you love sucking her pussy! Say every word! Now!" I could tell my Aunt was on the verge of getting upset with me. "J-Judy, I-I love sucking your pussy very much." I said. "Thank you darling." Judy replied smiling with a slight smirk. "Very good James, that's the positive way you should speak when telling the woman you love, that you love doing things for her." "Judy, you can be very candid when you answer this next question. I'm a modern women, who only wants what's best for my son, and you as his future wife, as well as what's best for the stability of your future marriage. Judy, in regard to having adequate sexual relations, I presume a smart girl like you already knows that my son is not, well, er, not well equipped to handle your total bedroom needs. I assume you've made plans to get my son some assistance in that department?" I was more than devastated by the question and was too speechless to speak except to gasp at my mother's question. Judy was a bit surprised, but her answer was quicker than I thought it should be. "First of all, Mother Jackson, I truly love James. However, you're correct, his penis size will require me to seek some adjustment in our planned sexual relations because of his shortcomings. Yes I have tentatively considered the help of three former boyfriends to aid my future husband in his bedroom duties." Judy's firmness and confidence as she replied so quickly, left me little comfort as I wanted to crawl into a one-inch hole. Not only was I speechless, I felt even more belittled. "Since we all know you're the experienced partner in this relationship, can I also presume these three men are also rendering assistance to you now during your engagement?" "Yes ma'am you can." She said without blinking an eye. I was still stunned by what was going on around me. I was flabbergasted. Was I dreaming? This couldn't be happening at the dinner table with my mother and aunt, could it? "Good! Smart girl! James, your future wife is not only beautiful, but sharp and is preparing well to make your marriage a stable, and solid long-term loving affair. You must be sure and do your fair share. Have you been giving her oral caresses after she's had physically satisfying sex with her studs?" I almost fell out of my chair at that question. As best I could, I tried desperately to change the subject. I was severely reprimanded and made to respond. Having to admit that I'd sucked other men's semen from my fiancee's cunt, especially in front of my own mother and aunt was so debilitating. Worse were the smirking smiles by all three of the women. Their eyes seem to burn me as they looked upon my embarrassment. "James is so lucky to be marrying an experienced and beautiful girl like you. He's been a bookworm most all his life. Now Judy dear, after you're married, we know it's going to be necessary for you to keep your lovers because you not going get all the satisfaction you need from my nephew's tongue and his rather small thing. However, being as intelligent as he is, I'm sure he'll understand that he has to take a backseat, frequently, to better equipped men. James you do understand what I mean, don't you?" Mother words and her direct style of giving her message to Judy, not only made me blush even deeper, but almost made me choke on the food I'd just put in my mouth. All I could do was nod affirmatively for her. Everyone at the table smiled. To my chagrin, the three continued to talk as if I didn't matter. Realizing that it was useless to deter the three from emasculating me more, I continued to try and get some enjoyment out of the only thing I could at this dinner, the food. Hurting inside, I could only listen as my vivacious fiance responded to question after question from my aunt and mother about her three real men - Joe, Jeffrey and Judd. I was sure that Judy wasn't going to reveal her family secret, but she didn't. Judy's face was bright and warm as she described the penises of each of her studs in response to one of the questions asked her. To my utter amazement, she warmly held my hand as she went into graphic details, about not only the sizes, both erect and relaxed, but also what oral attentions each man liked done to his cock. My face went blank as I listened to what was being said. My shock was complete. I was totally speechless, especially when she added "They all like me to lick and suck their balls too. I like doing that for them anyway. It really makes me feel close to the man I'm fucking when I do that for him." Mother and Aunt Jasmine had the brightest smiles on their faces as they seemed to hang onto every word Judy spoke. "I think Joe shoots the biggest load of cum, however, Jeffrey and Judd aren't far behind." Was her reply to which one gave her the most cum when she performed blowjobs to completion. "Yes, I have a few times, but of course he wasn't aware of it." Judy said with a smirking smile and winking at me, as she replied to Mother's question about if she'd ever kissed me right after sucking one of her real men's dicks. I was totally humiliated and emotionally drained after such lewd talk and belittlement, the likes of which I'd never even dreamed of, not in my worst nightmare. After more similar talk related to how well the sex was with her three studs, the talk suddenly tuned to a topic near and dear to both my Aunt and Mother - corporal punishment of unruly males. I know it was all over for me now. I knew that my family secret was about to be put on the table. I didn't have to wait long. I was doomed. "Jasmine has already indirectly implied to you, that we are strong proponents of behavior modification via corporal punishments for James. It is because of it that he has turned out to be so well mannered and trustworthy. Now, since he is soon to become your husband, Jasmine and I see it as important that we properly pass the baton to..." "Don't you mean the paddle?" My Aunt injected, to which the room filled with laughter from the three. I didn't see anything funny at all about this discussion. Mother and Aunt Jasmine went on and on about the benefits and merits of properly applied punishment to keep a new husband on the straight and narrow. I knew it was useless to say anything, so I just sat and finished my dinner. The others had eaten only about half of their meal and now seemed to have much more interest in the current topic of conversation, which they were deeply engrossed in. "James, we're going downstairs, finish eating your veggies and no dessert until you finish." Mom said as she stared at me hard before leading Judy and Aunt Jasmine with her, as they went to the basement. Again, I was being treated as a juvenile, but I know I dare not say a thing to the contrary. I almost knew it was too late to try and salvage any semblance of me being the soon to be husband and master of my domain. Judy's family had pretty much taken care of me ever having any hope of doing that. Now with what my own Mom and Aunt were doing, it was pretty certain that their actions would forever seal me against even thinking about dreaming of being assertive with Judy in anyway. It was obvious my future was doomed. It appeared my fate was to be one of forever being subjugated and humiliated at the hands of beautiful, but dominant women. I was very concerned about what my Mom would be telling Judy about the basement corporal punishment equipment and both of their philosophies about disciplining me. Here I was hoping to get away from all that and here it was surrounding me all over again. After finishing my dinner, I cleared the table. I was fairly certain that the others did not desire to return to their cold plates. I also didn't want mother or Aunt Jasmine to order me do so in front of my fiancee. Especially, since they were sure to make me wear an old fashioned, long white, lace trimmed pinafore. They got it for me to wear when doing kitchen duty. "JAMES! COME DOWN HERE!" The loud cry of Mother summoning me broke me from my depressing reverie as I sipped on after dinner coffee. I took another sip and headed toward the basement door. "This won't take but a moment of your time James dear. We wanted to show your future wife how this whipping table would look with you properly mounted to it. You know what they say, a picture is worth a thousand words. Be a dear and come over here so Jasmine and I can secure you to it. We wanted Judy to see how to properly secure you down should you ever need some refresher discipline. This is going to be one of your wedding presents." "Isn't that nice of your Mother and Aunt to give such a wonderful antique?" Judy said. "An antique, James, that can be pressed into service should you determine that it need be, by your negative or unruly behavior, that is." Aunt Jasmine added. The three women continued to talk about the craftsmanship and surface finish of the old wooden device. But then their conversation quickly turned to the real functionality of the table. For the countless time that day, I was speechless. I stood there stunned as it was proposed that I demonstrate how a person is secured to the device for punishment. Slowly I was able to speak. "W-What! P-Pleases Mother... I-I just..." "James sweetie, please don't whine and waffle in front of your fiance. It's time to be a man and show her you're not squeamish over giving a little demonstration. Now if you're going to be obstinate, and non-cooperative, this could easily turn into more than a demonstration. You get my drift?" The harsh look on her smiling face signaled to me once again that my will or say so was not important. "Y-Yes m-ma'am." I hung my head as I replied demurely. I was choice-less in the matter and all three women knew it. The whipping table mother referred to was an antique that had at one time been used in a turn-of- the-century state reform school for wayward teens. The heavy oak table had a series of large iron rings for securing an individual as he was bent over forward, at the waist, across the flat, slightly inclined surface. The arms would stretch forward and be secured to a one set of heavy iron rings. The mid thighs would also be secured as well as the ankles. With these strategic parts of the body anchored, about the only movable part was one's protruding ass cheeks. And to be honest, the allowable motion was really more of a wiggle than any serious movement. I was no stranger to the table as a teen. Mother had it shipped to my aunt's place the first time my aunt and I had a disagreement about me staying out past midnight. Upon hearing the news of mother shipping it out, I quickly gave up trying to convince Aunt Jasmine of my need to stay out beyond midnight. It didn't matter, my aunt wrestled me on the table the same day it arrived and I paid dearly for my attempt at setting my own curfew, or lack thereof. Even though I was an adult, Aunt Jasmine has weight and height on her side. She easily subdued me. She had me across the whipping table in no time at all. The two other times, I was too scared to not voluntarily come down and willingly - even though pleading, begging, and crying for mercy and forgiveness - let myself be bound and punished. When I moved to my aunt's place, I thought sure that I would have more freedom than I had at home. However, the day after I arrived, it was apparent that my aunt had other ideas. Additionally, mother was not only encouraging my aunt in her dominance of me, but orchestrating a lot of it. I meekly positioned myself at the table and my aunt and mother did the rest. As they secured me to the table with the super strong Velcro type fasteners, they lectured to Judy. About the only thing I was thankful for was that they hadn't made me drop my pants. That would be a sure sign that this was going to be more than a simple tie-down demo. However, as in other instances in my life, I was soon to be proven wrong once more. "There now, see how easy that is Judy dear.?" "Yes, Mother Jackson, the fasteners make quick work of getting him tied down.' Judy commented. I hated the gleeful tone in her voice. The three women soon turned to the variety of whipping instruments hanging on the wall. I was left tied to the table and totally ignored as they discussed several of the homemade extension cord whips made by mother and Aunt Jasmine. For some reason both had an affinity for electrical cables, from thick to thin ones. I really hated the folded thin gauge electrical extension cord. It really stings for a long period of time. "Judy, of all the these I still think this simple folded extension cord is my overall favorite." I heard mother say as the three walked back toward me. I of course was still bent precariously across that infernal table. "Proper wrist action and downward force is necessary to impart your message to the subject. It's too bad, James has been so good lately, otherwise it would be great if I could give you a first hand demonstration." I heard mother sigh after making her statement. I didn't like the tone of her voice or the nature of the conversation. "Mother Jackson, you're correct, James has been very mannerly and always the proper gentleman with me lately. However, as you mentioned earlier, if he isn't reminded occasionally of what will happened if he doesn't continue to be well behaved, he may slip back into doing things that are unacceptable." "Yes, I did say that. But what is your point dear girl?" "Well, I was thinking that since it's been almost a month since his last time on the table for corrective discipline, maybe a brief demo could count as a deterrent, even though he hasn't done any bad deeds. Additionally, demonstration strokes could also count as credits against future misdeeds on his part." "I love your idea! James, you definitely have good taste in selecting your new bride." My mother chimed. "Excellent idea Judy! He's bound to get into trouble in the future, probably before the wedding. Didn't you mention earlier that he mentioned something about trying to lose his virginity and that he even brought up the subject of possibly having another woman aid him if you didn't?" Aunt Jasmine interjected. "In all fairness to James, he didn't say any of that, I merely advised him I would not tolerate him with other women even though I would be seeing other men, as I am now and after we're married." "P-Please M-Mother, I-I don't think that an actual w-whipping d-demonstration will serve no..." I finally managed to get my wits about me to speak when I was literally shut up. "This is another accessory that will come in quite handy. We call it a vocal cord protector." My mother said of the short strip of duct tape she placed over my mouth. I didn't even see her put it on me, as my back was to the three of them. "There now, we can continue our conversation without being rudely interrupted. Judy, you're after my own heart. I like your forward thinking. Yes, I quite agree with you. A little preventive treatment does go a long way. Plus James dear, you'll get credit for the few licks we're going to give you against future trouble you're bound to get into. I don't know why you should have any objections to this little demonstration, and especially so since it's for your new bride to be." Mother spoke as she began pulling at the belt on my trousers. I tried to prevent her as best by pressing the buckle against the tabletop. I could only cry out in a mumble with the tape over my lips. "WHAP!" I heard the sound of the wooden paddle hitting something. A slit second later, I felt the impact on my tooting ass cheeks. The hurt from the paddle was minimal since the jeans I wore softened the blow, but the shock was greater. However, Mother really got my attention. "Stop fighting me James! If you don't let me unbuckle these pants easily, I'll get a bullwhip and whip them off you in shreds!" Her threat quickly calmed me down. I knew now that it was totally hopeless for me. I was going to be whipped, not only in front of my new bride to be, but probably by her also. "Yes, the welts from last month are all nicely healed." Aunt Jasmine commented as soon as I felt air on my rear end. "Yes his bottom is in an excellent condition for this demo we are about to perform." Spoke mother. I felt several hands running over my upturned bottom, which I know was slightly trembling from anticipatory fright on my part of what was to come. "Now Judy, with the folded extension cord, you want to apply your strokes with the proper swing and strength to be assured that the proper message is received by your husband. Too little force in your swing and he thinks you're playing with him, which leads him to believe you're not serious about punishing him. Remember each instrument must be applied with varying degrees of force to get the best performance." As mother went on with the technical aspects of corporal punishment, I was mentally cringing and saying my prayers that they weren't going to do an extensive demonstration on me with every whipping instrument. "SWISH!" "CRACK!" "UMMMMMMPPPP!" My scream came out as a loud muffled noise. The surprised lash by mother caused me to strain against the constraints as the biting sting seemed etched on my bottom. I wiggled uncontrollably as if trying to shake off the burning pain left after the impacting thin cords. Mother had truly caught me off guard. "Now see that was a well placed stroke and applied with proper force. Now you'll notice that was applied such that it's placed at a diagonal across his ass. The idea is do a diagonal series from bottom left to top right and then the next series from bottom right to top left. After you do that, then you can apply a few level strokes across the middle of his bottom. The purpose is when he sit down, he'll really feel that he has had a proper punishment as the welts heal. Now you try it dear. Remember, with this thin extension cord, to get your point across, the best technique is to swing with all your strength and then back down from there rather than to go lightly at first." "SWISH!" "CRACK!" I reacted violently to my fiancee's first blow. For she did indeed seem to take mother's advice about using all her strength. "Good stroke. Now apply several rapidly to get your first diagonal done." "SWISH!" "CRACK!" "SWISH!" "CRACK!" "SWISH!" "CRACK!" "Very good! Now the other side." I heard mother's voice as I moaned loudly and jerked and tugged violently against the iron rings. My ass cheeks were ablaze with stinging burns. My poor ass cheeks were quivering and my muted sobbing taking second place to the technical instructions going on behind me. After Judy finished using the doubled thin extension cord, I just knew that the three would let me up. Again I was wrong. There was to be no mercy for me. My fiancee was then instructed in the use of the whippy cane and allowed to place 5 very well placed strokes over the mass of welts I'm sure were already swollen quite well without the bruising blistering effect of the cane. Only after a few minutes of technical discussion on welt formation was I freed from the table. My sobbing was uncontrollable as I immediately reached to rub my stinging burning ass. "Just look at our big baby with all those tears. You come right over to mommie so I can show your future bride how to apply ointment to those welts." "T-That's... SOB!... O-Okay, I-I'll... SOB!... D- Do it... SOB!... my..." "You'll do no such thing, now stop being stubborn and come across mommie's lap like a good little boy." Again, knowing the possible consequences of further resistance, I hung my head and walked toward where mother was sitting. My face was a mess as I continued to sob and cry. I tried not to look my fiancee in the face, but out of the corner of my eye, even through my profuse tears, I could see the most pleasant countenance on her face. It was more than obvious she was enjoying my misery, degradation, and subjugation. I winced and jumped as the rubbing ointment was massaged into the welts, a few of which had broken the skin. All the while, my aunt and mom praised my fiancee at what a wonderful first job she'd accomplished. All I could do was sob as softly as I could, as I was frequently reminded by Mother and Aunt Jasmine, that if I were more of a man I wouldn't be such a crybaby. Intermixed with the talk about Judy's performance were frequent references to `my weenie' and how it was indeed imperative for my fiancee to seek outside help for her sexual needs. My shame was great. All I could do was take the continuing verbal abuse and be thankful it wasn't physical. Later upstairs, I was not allowed to wear my pants or underwear, only my shirt and the lacy white pinafore, so that air could speed up the healing of the welts I also wore. Dressed in this manner, I was required to serve after dinner coffee to Judy, mother and Aunt Jasmine. As I expected, there were numerous comments about the designs on my rear as I walked around serving the three of them. As I was in no condition to drive Judy home, she called Joe, one of her three full time lovers, to pick her up. I was in the kitchen when he arrived and I overheard her introducing him to my aunt and mom when he arrived at the front door. I easily heard Aunt Jasmine and mother praising the two how well they looked together. You see. Joe is black. I also heard that he was taking Judy back to his place and that she'd probably sleep over. My guts burned upon hearing that, but what could I do. I knew I didn't have the slightest say so in the matter. I was more thankful that neither Judy, or my aunt or mother, make me come out to see the couple off. Based on this small act of mercy, I thought to myself, maybe the three of them did harbor some concern or respect for my feelings as a man and the obvious emasculation I was being subjected to. However, what was to happen just six weeks later, back in this very same house, let me know just how much respect the three had for me. I've always thought of the incident as the `Rod Incident'. But first, I must tell about the events that occurred between now and then. CHAPTER 10 EVENTS FROM OUR ENGAGEMENT: Before The Rod Incident Judy called to see how I was doing the next morning. Soon after inquiring about my still aching ass, she soon let me know how wonderful Joe and his dick treated her. "James, the only thing missing was your tongue darling, getting a good tongue lashing and slurp-up from you on my wet drippy pussy really caps off an evening well for me. I missed you my love, but I knew you were a bit too emotional to be fun after our basement adventure." "A-Adventure! Judy, t-that's truly an understatement. Why couldn't you have just refused mother's invitation to whip me? After all, it's not like things are going to be that way when we're married." There was a moment of silence from Judy. "Only if you need it James darling. Besides, your mother has reared you to be respectable and mannerly. If a few strokes now and then are needed to keep you that way, you can't blame me for continuing to do what is necessary to keep you on the right path. Anyway, not to worry, you can expect me to only punish you when you absolutely need it or when I feel you need to be reminded of your commitment to me." Her tone was firm and confident. I sensed it was better to continue this conversation at a later time, as I knew where it was heading. The problem was I didn't really have any idea of how I'd change her mind anyway. After all, she had all the cards and my own family helped stack the deck against me. I changed the subject and we chatted a few more minutes before she informed me she was on her way over. Her reason for coming had me pleading with her not to come. "P-Please Judy, please don't a-add to my embarrassment. It-It was bad enough you saw mom rubbing ointment on me. I-I just couldn't have y-you take me across your..." "Why I'd love to have you come across my knees and rub ointment into your bare bottom. Why darling, what kind of fiance would I be if I didn't tend to you? After all, I helped blister your cute little bottom didn't I?" Judy literally hung up on me as I continued in my attempts to deter her from coming over to administer rubbing ointment to my still bruised bottom. I sighed as I hung up. True to her word, my fiance arrived and did as she had indicated she would. Mother and Aunt Jasmine, also overruled any and all objections I had. My face was redder than a fresh beet as I lowered my pants and laid across her lap for the ointment massage. Not only did she take longer than necessary, her kneading of my ravished backside flesh hurt. As I winced in pain, all three women urged me to be more courageous and to show more `backbone'. My shame was complete and total, as I arose and had to thank her, per mother's request. The rest of Judy's visit was devoted to further discussion with mother and Aunt Jasmine about her date with Joe. The three women wouldn't hear of me leaving the room during the explicit and detailed account. Since I could more easily sit on my beaten bottom, Judy and I did date that evening, even though it was overshadowed by me having had to be treated like a baby earlier by her, as well as be present as she recounted her bed date with Joe. On my date with her that night, I was treated to something I hadn't had lately, the taste of her cunt without another man's sperm running from it. She also jerked me off, which was rather pleasant. Within a few days, Judy and I were back on our regular dating arrangement, which included several visits to her home. Even though fearful of what to expect, I nevertheless had to go, since it appeared that I could do nothing to stop the marriage train I was on. Her father had me on my knees the very next time I was over at her house. He quickly had me making up for the botched blowjob I gave him before. He collected within an hour of my arrival. The surprising thing was that no one at the dinner table thought it unusual for her father to have me follow him to the front room, after the meal. "C'mon Jamie, I'm gonna watch TV and feeling your mouth wrapped around my dick would feel good about now. My hot dick cream will be your dessert." Judy's father said loudly as he got up from the table and proceeded to walk toward the family room. No one at the table reacted in the least to his loud, bold announcement. In fact both Judy and her mom were carrying on a side conversation and her two brothers another. "Damn it Jamie! Didn't you hear me! I want your lips on my dick before my show starts!" Judy's father roared. The sound of his deep voice sent a chill down my back. "James darling, run along. You don't want daddy mad at you again, do you? Go show him you're going to be cooperative." Judy said, interrupting her conversation to speak to me. "He'll be right there Daddy!" Judy shouted toward her father. She then turned back to me. "Remember, we have a basement here too." She said as she leaned over and whispered to me, so that the others wouldn't hear her. She had a snide smile as she spoke. I immediately picked up on her implication and jumped up out of my seat and headed after her father who was unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants as he was walking toward the next room. I followed with a flushed red face. The other family members looked at me as if I'd done something wrong for hesitating to do as Mr. Smith had commanded of me. Mr. Smith dropped his pants and positioned me on my knees such that I could focus all my attention on his cock and balls. He had me lick his huge, but soft hairy scrotum before starting on his large shaft and enormous cockhead respectively. As I knelt there with his very stiff dick nestled firmly in my mouth, he held his big hand on the top of my head as he slowly palmed it and used my mouth to slowly jack off his big erection. All I could do was to hold onto his muscular thighs and keep my lips pursed as he told me. I was his passive mouth pussy and there was little I could do about it. Besides the sound of the TV show he was watching, all I could see before me was his long shaft as my lips slid back and forth, as well as his thick patch of pubic crotch hairs. I soon got accustomed to the feel of his large dick in my mouth and I was vigilant to any signs of his pending ejaculation. Other than that, I just mentally sighed and knelt helplessly letting myself be used by my dominant lusty future father-in- law. After about twenty minutes of being mouth fucked, I felt his already bloated dickhead flare in size. I knew then he was about to blow his hot jism in my mouth. I fortified myself to receive his spermy outpouring. As expected, he flooded my mouth with a sizeable load of his thick spunk. I had to swallow fast due to the force and volume of his hot, spurting, viscous ejaculate. I congratulated myself on accomplishing my forced duty without gagging or choking. However, he wasn't going to let me off that easy, he held me there so that his still semi-hard penis could `linger and soak' - his words - in my mouth. I was in no position to argue. His hot sperm was not my only creamy dessert that night, for Judy's mother also had me eat her creampie, and so did Judy too. Judy's mom had been fucked by some male relatives that'd dropped by while I was sucking her husband off - which incidentally took over an hour - he continued to soak his huge dick between my lips as he watched two of his favorite TV programs. Later, after he let me go, Judy's mom called me to eat her creamy hairpie. While I was doing Judy's mom, I believe Judy was sexually entertaining Judd. I thought I heard his voice, but with Judy's mom's thighs and legs clamped tightly around my head, I couldn't be sure. Finally, Judy, my fiance, ordered me to mouth her slimy oozing snatch. It was then that she confirmed that Judd had come by and fucked her earlier, but in addition to him, an uncle and her youngest brother, also had a go at her. The sad thing was that everyone had expected me to do all the things I did without hesitation. When I showed the slightest bit of surprise or hesitancy at performing their requests, I not only was looked at as if I was stupid, but was casually reminded of the videotape and the pre-nuptial marriage agreement. Judy even whispered `Basement' to me a couple more times. Helpless and hapless, I meekly hung my head and did everyone's sexual bidding. It seemed that every time I visited my future in- laws for some event, such as dinner, a cook-out, or a swim party, the lusty acts that occurred were some variation of the previously described events. Additionally, as more and more of the Smith's relative got to know about me, they also joined in and contributed to my sexual subjugation and debasement. CHAPTER 11 EVENTS FROM OUR ENGAGEMENT: The Rod's Rod Incident It was now approximately six weeks after the weekend where mother met Judy for the first time. If you remember, it was also the time where Mother and Aunt Jasmine did their infamous demonstration, that led to my ass being blistered by my fiancee as a demonstration whipping project. Well this particular Friday night, Aunt Jasmine and mother - who incidentally was back in town this weekend - both were pissed off at me this particular weekend because they thought I was too sassy with them when they questioned me about coming in about 10 minutes after my curfew, twice during the week. So to show me they were still in control, even though I was an adult, mother decreed I was to be grounded for the weekend. She ordered me to stay in the house the entire weekend, that is, from Friday night until Monday morning. She even called Judy and told her about my punishment. I was utterly embarrassed, humiliated and devastated to have my mom call my fiancee and tell her such a thing. However, even though fuming, I knew what to expect if I didn't do as she decreed. I didn't want to use any of the whipping credits I'd gotten six week ago. Either way, I knew I'd end up the worse for it all if I made any more of a fuss. I thought things couldn't get any worse that weekend, but they did. To my utter shock and surprise, Judy and her date for the evening, an old high school flame named Rod, dropped in unexpectedly that Saturday night. Rod was in town visiting family. His wife hadn't come with him. As I was doing the dinner dishes and tidying up the kitchen when they arrived, mother and Aunt Jasmine made sure I came out wearing a new pink pinafore mother had brought me as a gift, to help quell my `aggressive manishness' - her words. As I stood by looking totally foolish and feeling like a wussy mama's boy, they sat on the love seat, arms intimately around each other. Judy introduced me to him as her fiance, as she preened over her dazzling three-carat diamond engagement ring. Neither one of them seemed to be concerned about the affections they were exhibiting toward each other in front of me or in my family's presence. My family seemed quite pleased at what was going on before us. I was surprised at what was occurring before me, even if mother and Aunt Jasmine knew of my fiancee's need for cocks bigger than mine. I know they supported her in her promiscuous endeavors, but to allow her to come into our house and flaunt her promiscuity, with me present, was brazen on Judy's part and showed no respect for me, as a man, on the part of Mother and Aunt Jasmine. Getting back to Judy and Rod, I became even more speechless at the way his hands cupped and massaged her shapely rear end as well as stroked the white expanse of her inviting white bare thighs. All was revealed in the tight, thigh high mini skirt she wore. To make matters worse, Rod applauded me on the open relationship that Judy and I had. "You're some man to let your lovely fiancee party and sleep around while you stay in and do kitchen chores. My hat goes off to you." To add to my total humiliation was mother's added comments. "James is rather proficient at doing domestic household duties and believes in dressing efficiently for the work at hand. He really is looking forward to doing the same in his own kitchen after he becomes Judy's spouse". Speechless, I almost fell down at her obvious implications from her phraseology- `My own kitchen' and me being Judy's spouse versus her husband'. I was emasculated by my own mom in front of my future bride and her lover for the evening. I wanted to shrink through the floor. I was too flabbergasted to respond. My face was bright red the whole time they were there as I stood by like a maid in waiting, wearing a long, bright pink, scalloped lace trimmed apron, while this much more handsome well built man was in possession of my fiancee. Judy was very amorous with Rod as her free hand seem to constantly stay hear the vicinity of his crotch as she rubbed his leg and thighs as they talked with my family. I tried to leave the room, but no one would hear of it. To my total embarrassment, mother revealed why she'd grounded me and made it very clear that I was a mama's boy. Both Judy and Rod beamed smug smiles at my additional emasculation by no less than my own mom. Mom then went on to let him know that she worked hard to instill in me essential domestic skills she thought would make me a good catch as a husband. "Rod, Tim is so sweet to me. He's so good at domestic stuff, especially cleaning up wet sloppy things." She winked at me as she spoke. My heart seemed to skip a beat at Judy's obvious hidden reference to my frequent mouth douching of her's and other fucked pussies. "He is such a darling and he looks good in an apron too, doesn't he?" I wanted to crawl in a hole when she said that. However, mother quickly added that she'd put several on order as her wedding gifts to me. "They'll be an assortment of pink, lavender and sunflower yellow pastels. I also ordered pansy floral designs for them also." Mother added with a gleeful tone in her voice. Again, I wanted to sink right through the floor. "Don't be ashamed Tim, some men make excellent cooks and are better at domestic duties. Pride yourself on your talents." Rod added. I guess his comment was well meaning, however I wished he'd kept it to himself. I thought the worse was over after that little episode and hoped the two would leave. However, it was not to be. Rod had been a jock at another senior high in a near by town when he was dating Judy. Judy kept encouraging her old flame to recall his feats of sportsmanship. I squirmed and moved as I might get up and leave, but mother gave me a quick cold stare that told me that if I did, I'd be sorry and probably that my bottom would end up being blistered. Cowed, I sat and endured the jock talk. "My James was not muscular enough for such rough sports, but he was vice president of the science club." My mother interjected. Again, another well-meaning comment that could've been easily interpreted as a left handed comment and would better have been left unspoken. Rod and Judy seem to get more intimate, more cozy and even more brazen in their touchy feely actions. I wanted to cry out but was again speechless. She was most brazen as she leaned over on him as they talked of how a cop almost caught them screwing in the back seat of a car back in their high school days. My face turned even redder than before. "Tim, you've got yourself quite a catch here. She's gonna make you a great wife, especially in bed. She can really take care of business between the sheets. I wish my wife was half as good." I almost fell out of my chair at his brazen brash comment. However, it seemed others in the room took it as a compliment for Judy's sexual talent and experience. I couldn't believe what was happening. "We are proud to have Judy committing to become a member of the family and take my James as her spouse." My mother interjected. I looked at mother and couldn't believe her continued overt put down of me. Again, she'd called me a `spouse', not a `husband', but a `spouse'! I was seething with silent shame and anger. "Oh! Look at you Rod sweetie, all this talk has given you a woody. I thought you were trying to hide something with your hand." Judy's raised voice caught everybody's attention as she again brought the news of Rod's hard-on to everyone's attention. "We'd better get you over to your motel and take care of it." She giggled as she pecked him on the lips and grasped the rising bulge in his crotch. I would've sunk through the floor if it were possible. Thoroughly humiliated and disgraced, I was glad for them to be finally leaving. However, little did I know that all that had occurred was just the beginning, rather than the end of my degrading ordeal. "Judy! Shame on you. Being almost family, why don't you take the young man up to James' room and help him relieve his erection. My, he does have a nice boner there. Much, much nicer than my James." I couldn't believe mother's statements. I was blushing the deepest of red as I saw my own mother, standing and observing the imprint of Rod's large swollen cock through his trouser fabric. "James, go turn back the covers on your bed and spruce up your room for your fiancee and her guest." Mother shouted to me. This was a night of un-beliefs and strangeness. I was more than dumfounded that my fiancee was going to be sleeping with an old boyfriend in my bed. I almost couldn't move, but my Aunt Jasmine helped me up and tugged my arm as she helped me toward my room, and what I had to do. "James, hurry up with the room and come back here and tell us when it's ready." Mother shouted in a loud voice as I ascended the stairs to my bedroom. "I'll come tell them." My aunt replied. "No! James will do it. After all, Judy is his fiancee!" As I climbed the stairs, tears began to swell up in my eyes in response to mother's words. It didn't take but two minute to prepare my room for my beautiful fiancee's tryst. I tried to present a calm exterior and image as I walked back down the stairs to inform the couple that my room was ready for their sexual liaison. I still found it hard to believe Judy and my own mother had placed me in a difficult degrading situation like this. "T-The room is ready." I softly said as I stood facing Mother, Aunt Jasmine, and Judy and Rod. Judy quickly led Rod up to my room as I stood there. "Judy is really lucky to have such a great sport for a future husband. Thanks for letting us screw in your bed." He said as he passed me. I said nothing. I looked down to avoid his eyes as well as for him not to see my watery ones. TO BE CONTINUED IN: Family Bonding Part 4 (Maybe mid August 2000) Comments? C.D.E. at [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c MARCH 1, 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved. This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(MM+/F, MM, MF, Inter, Impreg, FemDom, MDom) WARNING: DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE. Note of Thanks: To FEC for his editorial proofing and helpful enhancing comments. STORY TITLE: FLY ON THE WALL AUTHOR: C.D.E. PREFACE: Have you ever heard the expression "I'd like to be a fly on the wall"? Well the series of story vignettes below are just that, observations of a fly on the wall, as it makes its sojourn from house to house. Just imagine the tid bits of intimate and interesting things you might hear if it was easy to be an unobtrusive silent party to the going ons in the houses in your neighborhood. However, things may not be as interesting in your neighborhood as the events observed by our winged spy below. Lets listen in as it makes its way into the first of several abodes. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& HOUSE #1 "You think he would be willing to let me have some now, er, without a condom? It's been over two years. I- I've learned my lesson." The man said to the woman sitting across from him. "O-Of course, it would only be after he's finished with you . Or-Or his buddies too, I-if it was a-a group night or something." He added seeing she was slow to respond. "Has it been that long? You're right. Frankie Jean is 15 months old. That's right, you had to use rubbers even when I was pregnant with her didn't you?" The man looked sheepish and nodded his head to acknowledge her. "Y-You think he might let me?" The man asked again. "I don't know. You'll just have to ask and see." "I-I was wondering if-if you could put in a good word for..." "Now honey, you know I've told you before you had to work all those things out with him. You're my husband, but after all, he's the real man in my life and the father of our kids. I have to respect him when he tells me that he doesn't want me butting in between you and him." "I-I guess you're right Gail. I-I'll just have to ask him myself like you said." Her sheepish husband lamented. "He really punished me good this time. Six months of total sex denial by you, except to lick you out after he or his buddies were through using you. I-I got so tired of jacking off after seeing you and him or his friends sexing it up. Then just as my six months was up, you got pregnant and he only would let you give me some once a month, but only if I wore a condom. And I think the only reason he agreed to that was you suggesting I get a second job and have my paycheck sent to his bank account." "If you remember honey, I think what swayed him was you agreeing to work as a janitor cleaning toilets. Am I right? He really was suspicious of your sincerity. So was I. The idea of you kneeling in front and cleaning toilet bowls showed him that you're prepared to be subservient." Once he found his tongue again her husband continued. "Well I-I hope by now he knows, and you too, I've really learned my lesson and that I'm really sincere. I-I know when you had Frank Junior, I should've realized my place then, but certainly with Frankie Jean, he should see I really know my place in the order of things. You know with you having his two kids and all and them calling me Daddy. All the neighbors know that I've been taught a lesson when we go out walking with two tan skin kids that look just like him." "You're a good Daddy to them too. He recognizes that too honey. You should use that as justification too when you beg him to let me give you some." "Oh thank you dear. That's a good idea. Also, I guess I could remind him of the special gifts I bought him with those part time third jobs I got during the Holidays." "Yes that's right. He really adored that gold chain you worked so hard to buy him for his birthday. You should mention that too." "Thanks! I will. I sure hope he'll let me have it bare skin. I'm so tired of that latex feeling." "Honey I just had an idea." His wife blurted out. "Yeah, what is it?" George said curtly as he busily wrote down the things he'd accomplished for Frank, his wife's black lover and family stud. "Darling, if you really want to make a hit with Frank, why don't you consider asking him if you could suck his dick. I think that would go over quite well." Gail said beaming at her idea. "W-What! "It would express your contrition in a well meaning and firm manner, as well as show you hold him in high esteem." "B-But dear, it - it would be so humiliating a-and degrad..." "You're worried about your silly pride aren't you honey? You think it's shameful for you to suck a dick don't you?" "Well yes! Men j-just don't do that to each other. U-Unless they're gay." "I know you're not gay as well as him. You like pussy don't you?" "Well yes. What does that have to do with ..." "Gay men don't care for pussy. So therefore as long as you like my pussy whether you eat it or fuck it, we all know you're not gay, so you can suck dick without the least bit worry of us thinking you're that way." "W-What! Do y-you mean, er, oh, forget it." Her husband said flustered trying to reason out his wife's logic. "I-I know you care quite a bit for him, b-but I-I don't know if-if I can do..." "Never say what you can't do darling. Think on the idea before you write it off as a possible solution." "O-Okay dear. I won't. But I just hate to be thought of-of as a-a cocksucker. It-it just sounds so degrading." "DING DONG!" The door bell rang. "That must be your mom. She promised to watch the kids while Frank and I went shopping and while you're at work this evening." "Hi Gail dear. Hi son." They both greeted George's mother warmly. Soon after, his wife left for her shopping date with Frank. Before she did, she told his mother of his idea to get on her lover's better side. "Son, I really think Gail has got the right idea. Sucking Frank's big dick would help to alleviate the tension between you two." "M-Mother! You'd a-agree for me to become a cocksucker?" "Yes . After all, it's not like Frank is a stranger or something. And besides, it's for the good of your marriage and to show him just how much you respect him as a man. Remember dear, he is a far better man than you'll ever be in the bedroom." "I-I know that by now, b-but I-I just hate being t- thought of as a-a cocksucker. That word just makes me cringe." "Well son, one thing in your favor is that you already know what his cum taste like, that is since you've eaten so much of it out of Gail's pussy. So it's not the gooey slimy taste that's troubling you?" "Uh. It-it's just the thought of b-being known as a cocksucker." "Well, hummmm. What can we do here. We need to do something." "Why?" "Well son. If you must know. Frank confided in me sometime ago that he thought that you sucking his dick occasionally, would help y'all get along better." "He-he did. W-why that son-of -a..." "Watch your mouth. I will not have you using that sort of language around me, and especially about Frank. Now apologize this instance!" "I-I'm sorry mother. Please forgive me." "That's better. I happen to agree with him. I think him shooting some loads of his hot jism down your throat a few times a month would help you better remember your place and help you feel better about being in it too." "Y-You do? ." "Yes. And also, there is a way to give him head without actually sucking his cock." "H-How?" "Just open up and engulf his shaft with your lips and then you can move your mouth back and forth sliding your licks over his shaft or let him do the same thing by humping your face. It's very easy, and that way you won't have to worry about being considered sucking on him. I suggest you try doing it that way until you feel more confident about sucking and getting over your silly phobia of being considered a cocksucker." "W-Well I never..." "Kill that pesky fly! I tried to swat him earlier and missed!" His mother shouted. Our winged multi-legged spy noted being detected and narrowly escaped destruction as it flew evasively to avoid being squashed and managed to escaped as one of the children opened a door to come in. Our friendly fly flew around for a while until it was able to secure entrance into another neighboring home. Lets listen in to what the fly is hearing at this second house. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& HOUSE #2 "Van you have to admit they are a handsome couple. And I bet they would make us some pretty grand kids. Don't you think so Margie?" "I sure do. I'm sorry son, but mine and your father's families just don't seem to have beauty genes. Dear since you've accepted as much as you have, I really don't see why you can't yield a bit more and condone him being the father of all you and Valerie's children." "I-I can't believe y-y'all are saying this. J-Just because of one accident and now the other two kids we wanted have to be t-theirs too?" "We understand how you feel sweetie." His mom said as she stood and hugged her red faced son. "But you know you have a weak bargaining position. She loves you. But if you show any lack of love and devotion, what would you do if she decided to leave you?" "L-Leave, uh, I-I, s-she w-wouldn't. I-I mean, er, ." "You never thought of that did you sweetie? But it's quite possible." "Your mother's correct. You see my daughter does have a special love for you, but she also have a special love for Earl too. And that love is even stronger now that they have a baby together." Spoke the other lady in the room. "No dear, your best bet is to be conciliatory and supportive." "Here she comes now Van. She's pulling in the driveway as we talk. Why don't y'all go in the back and talk when she comes in." Apparently the woman entering the house was the man's wife. Soon as she entered they all exchanged greetings as she handed the baby she was carrying to the apparent beaming grannies. She then gave her less than cheerful husband a peck on the cheek. They did go to a back bedroom to discuss their problem of his wife wanting to have another baby from her lover, who apparently started out being just a sex buddy. "Van sweetheart, I know how tough it is, but you know how I want to feel when I'm trying to get pregnant. You know you just can't do that for me." "I-I know Valerie. I-I know Earl is-is much better t- than me at p-pleasing you... a-and now that the baby has come along, I-I just don't know what use y-you have for me. I-I..." "Oh stop talking silly honey. You know I love you. There's no reason why we still can't be happy and in love as ever before. Of course, you'll have to adjust your attitude somewhat, just as you did when you went along with me having the baby, even though it was an accident between Earl and I." "I-I know. B-But now, it-it's even worse. He's made me the laughing stock of the neighborhood already. He didn't know I was in the hardware store the other day. He was just bragging how much little Earl looked like him. Everyone knows he's the father. Even my own mother doesn't even try to hide it . A-And I couldn't believe she went along with y'all wanting to name him Earl Jr. Valerie, it's tough enough facing everyone with just one of his kids. B-But with all of them his, I-I'll be nothing more than the cuckold wimp of the town." "Darling, you're being overly dramatic. Of course it's natural for a new father to brag about his baby. You can't blame him for that. And as far as what the town folks say, just ignore them. The love you and I have is none of their business." Van and his wife talked for another hour. Their moms even brought the couple coffee after they'd been back there so long. They left the young couple to work out their differences. Seeing that his wife had more resolve to only have Earl as the family sire, Van capitulated, basically expressing in so many words that he had no choice expect to accept things on his new wife's terms to keep her happy and him in her life. "Thanks so much darling. I just know the three of us and the kids will be so happy and in love. Let me call Earl and tell him about you agreeing." His wife said as she kissed him once more before reaching over to the phone and dialing. "Hello! Earl darling . I'm okay ... Yes ... Yes ... He's right here. We just came to an agreement. He has accepted us having more children... No you won't have to pay any child support since they'll be our children... Of course you'll have visitation rights, for them as well as me... ... any time you want day or night, my body is available to you anytime ... Oh, I see. Let me ask him or do you want to talk to him?" Van shook his head signaling to his wife that he didn't want to talk to his wife's black lover and stud. "He just left the room Earl. I'll go ask him. I'll be right back." She carefully placed the phone receiver under a pillow on the bed as she talked to her husband. "W-what! T-The nerve of him." Her husband replied with an incredulous look on his face. They talked a few moments before his wife seem to bring the steam out of her husband when she reminded him of something. "Honey, I don't want to sound mean, but if you recall, you've only had sex with me twice after our honeymoon, in which his jism hasn't been in my pussy or on my breath. This will just make it permanent. Please, don't mess things up over such a small trifle. Plus, you know I'm very fond of you sucking his heavy loads out of my cunt. You know what pleasure that gives me. You want to deprive me of that?" Van signaled agreement to his wife's wishes. It showed that he felt even more defeated in his attempt to retain some manly pride, but even that was all gone now in order to stay with the woman he loved. "Earl honey, he's agreed. He can't have me unless you have me first, and he will always suck my pussy afterwards. And, if I'm not to tired, he can have some later. Van honey, see that fly over there on the wall swat it for me." Sensing danger of being splattered, our winged eavesdropper took flight and barely managed to escape into the kitchen and out an open door. Our intelligent fly friend got carried by the wind to another neighborhood and managed to slip into an open garage door and into a nook of an interior room of house number three. He settled down after his hasty journey to survey and hear what he could. Lets listen in also. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& House # 3 "This is the last straw mother. I just can't see wearing baby doll pajamas for him. I-I've got to draw the line somewhere." I understand your feelings Stanley, but don't you think it's better you check your pride and do what's right for your marriage and family?" "Family! That's a joke. Our three kids are all his. My wife can't seem to go a day without mentioning his name to me or reminding me that he's the father of our kids in one way or another. It-it just hurts so much mom to have been in the back ground for eight years." "You may have been in the background, but it was for the good of your marriage. That's the important thing." "I-I guess you're right, but it just seems that I've gone so far in trying to please her and him. When she insisted on having sex with him first on our wedding night, I gave in. Later when she insisted on me sucking their love juices up after they screwed, I gave in, hoping that it would be the last straw in keeping and pleasing her, but no, she wanted more from me. I gave in when she got pregnant with his first child. I gave in also with the second. After you three all brow beat me, I wore rubbers so our next child would look like the first two, since she wanted to only get pregnant from him." "It just made sense dear." "I know that's what you kept telling me mother. And doing the first child, y'all talked me into being his cocksucker, which continued after the baby came. It wasn't a temporary situation as I thought it was going to be." "He enjoyed it so much, I thought he was right to demand you continue to be there for him also." "And then if that wasn't enough, doing her second pregnancy, I got coerced into letting him screw me up my ass. I-I just don't know how I sank so low. I really can't believe I kept on letting him do that to me after she delivered their second child." "You know it wasn't all that bad. Remember you telling me how relaxed you were after each time he used you? And by the way, in the eyes of the law, the children are yours, irrespective of him being the biological father." "Okay - okay. You're legally right. He reminds me of that too. But I still say, now that she's pregnant for the third time, his demand that I dress up as a transvestite and come to his bed as a woman is-is just too much." "Now, now, I think you'll look so much prettier all dressed in a nice lavender and pink lacy sheer baby doll with bright pink make up and black mascara. I could do wonders with your hair for the occasion, maybe even have you wear some fancy bridal lingerie instead of the baby doll." His mom mused with her hand on her chin. The smell of food overtook our fly friend's desire to stay any longer, so it simply made its way toward the kitchen. After a brief forage, it flew out through a door ajar. Again after floating on the breeze our insect spy found another location to observe the household activities of another abode. This is the story of House #4. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& Copyright c MARCH 1, 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved. HOUSE #4 "Mother Henson, t-they filled her with so much of their stuff." "You mean their cum?" "Y-Yes t-that's right. T-hey made me watch each time they took her. And a-after each one w-was through, I-I was forced to lap her clean." "She said you really did a good job too Dan. She really boasted of how well you sucked. You did the best you could under the circumstances. You have nothing to be ashamed of." `But I-I can't believe she doesn't want to file charges against them now. I know she doesn't want to hurt them, b-but it just seems..." "She admits she did tease them a bit before y'all went to your suite. And you have to give them credit, they did give you chance to get some before they came in to get theirs." "I-I can't help if-if she was just so-so beautiful and the way s-she handled me, I-I just couldn't hold back before I-I got in her." "Pre-mature ejaculations happen Dan." "I-I know. I-I was so mad, cause it takes me so long to b-be ready again." "Like a couple of days or a week right?' "N-Not all the time, b-but s-sometimes it does." "But Mother Henson, is it-it right for her to be inviting them over for sex just because s-she liked what they did to her on our wedding night.? It's just so unfair. I-I think divorce or-or maybe annulment is..." "You'll do such thing! Just because she is getting the pleasure she needs is no reason for you to go off halfcocked and become irrational." "A-And to add insult to injury, s-she wants me to-to still suck her c-cunt after they've used her. I-I just see that as being too unreasonable." "Not even if you're good at it? You've done it on several occasions already, why not continue? She loves having your head between her legs after they have made her all juicy and gooey. She really gets off good with your tongue on her bruised puffy twat." "It - It does become inflamed from their b-big things a-and they shoot so-so much jism. A-And t-their stuff is s- so s-slimy too." "Didn't one or two of the fellows have you suck on their big dicks on your wedding night?" "Oh, I wish she hadn't told you about that. Y-Yes. It was Rufus a-and Leroy. T-They made me lick them c-clean." "Have they wanted you to do it again?" "I-I don't want to t-talk about it anymore if you don't mind. T-This whole thing is j-just to much for me to handle easily." "I understand Dan, but the best therapy is to talk about it. I'm family now, so there's no reason for you to be ashamed of being open with me. You see, Donna and I saw Leroy the other day at the Supermarket where he works and we got to talking. He told us how you filled in for Donna one day when he came by and she wasn't home." "H-He did? W-What did he..." "He told us how well you blew him. Of course he did say, you became irate the first time he asked you to do him, but after he pretended he was going to take Donna from you, you came around and did your duty. He assured us that you must really love her to do that for her. In fact he said both he and Leroy have both had you swinging on their dicks several times over the past month. Is that true?" "O-Oh mother Henson. I-I could die. T-They both promised ...Sob! T-they weren't going to tell ... Sob! ... anybody. I-I... Sob!" "Now, now Dan, there is no reason to cry. Donna and I think you did such a sweet thing. We both think you should continue. We told your mom and she too thinks that was a wonderful thing. She's also delighted that Donna likes you sucking her pussy clean too. She was worried you couldn't keep a woman happy, but she said she'd plan to talk to you about all of this too. She and Donna said they thought by me talking to you first, it would help you better warm up to your role as a loving devoted and faithful cuckold." The two talked some more before the lady, apparently the man's mother-in-law left. About an hour later another woman entered and the following conversation ensued. "Y-Yes mother. I-I have gotten u-use to the taste of their cum." "That's good son. And I'm glad you've gotten over being ashamed of having other men sleep with your new bride. After all, we both know they can give her what you can't." "Y-yes ma'am. I-I understand. It's been seven months now, b-but I've adapted." "And now that y'all are planning to start a family, I'm pleased you're doing your part so well." "I-I was upset at first, b-but I could see that she wanted to get started as soon as she stopped with the pill." "So you're already using condoms then?" "Y-yes ma'am, I-I started last weekend." "Lets see, with it taking about two months for the pill to lose it's effect. I say, hummmm, she'll be pregnant in about three months knowing how virile Leroy and Rufus are. Maybe sooner than that." "T-That's what she says too." "She told me they bought you a gift or something. She didn't get a chance to say what it was." "It-It was a gross of condoms." "How thoughtful. That'll help you save money for the baby." "I-I guess so. B-but with her being so tired when they're through with her, and after I-I suck her out and she gets off, she just doesn't seem to have time for me to put it in a lot of times, so I-I just jerk off, l-like you told me I should rather t-than getting up-upset with her." "It works out better doesn't it?" "I-I guess so." "Of course it does. You do get some of her pussy, that is you eat it. At the same time, you please her like a good husband should, and then you please yourself. Plus, I bet her pussy is so stretched from their big cocks, you probably get more enjoyment from jacking off." Her son just blushed and looked sheepish. "So you see, being a cuckold isn't all that bad is it?" "I-I've accepted it and adapted to what she a-and y'all expect of me. I've finally gotten use to Rufus and Leroy and their friends coming over all times of the day and night. It has made it easier on me rather than always having to get up and open the door for them all the time, I just gave them keys as Donna suggested." "That was a good idea, after all you do have to get your sleep since you do have to go to work early. By the way, Rufus really boasted about your fried chicken. He says you cook for him every Friday night now." "Y-Yes. It-it's almost like a regular event now." "You feed him, and I understand he feeds you afterward." "H-he likes to watch Friday night TV w-with me on the floor between his legs giving him head. It-it maybe hard to believe, but he keeps his penis in my mouth over three hours. He always shoots at least four loads and seems to stay hard the whole time until his last come." "See why sucking dicks is so important for you? If you hadn't tried it first hand you wouldn't have a first hand knowledge of his and the other black men's sexual prowess." Her subjugated son just simply nodded in agreement. He went on to also tell her of another of Rufus's friend named Jeff, who keeps him busy on Saturday night doing the same thing. "That's wonderful. That keeps you from being bored while Donna is out with the fellows... and out of trouble too. We never want to hear of you being unfaithful with another woman. However, helping her take care of her men friends is okay. It's really great that y'all are bonding so well." Instinctively fearing detection, our multi-eyed and multi-legged insect agent took flight, and after some wandering around the interior of the house, managed to escape back to the great outdoors and into one more house where there was the smell of food. However, he again came across some conversation of note. Lets listen in too. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& HOUSE#5 "I-I can't believe they said that to you." "They did honey. They just feel you didn't seem sincere. It's like you were doing it to get it over with. They still think you're prejudice and a bigot." "W-What? A-After a-all I-I've done?" The woman nodded. "The mere fact I-I sucked their b-big cocks s- should've indicated I wasn't, not to mention standby while they date and sex you all the time. Not to mention I-I always suck you out after they're through. I-I didn't want them to know that, b-but y-you told them about it. I-I just..." "Darling they think you're just using them to do for me what you can't. And as far as you sucking my pussy out, they just say you're doing what you like doing. Which I too think is true, but no matter honey, all in all, they just want you to show more eagerness and genuineness about accepting them." "If what I'm doing now doesn't satisfy them, then w- what else can I..." "For one thing honey, how about agreeing to do them on a continuing thing, rather than limit it to just that one time?" "Y-You mean s-suck them w-whenever t-they..." "Yes dear, whenever they want you to do it. Tell them all they have a standing invitation to be sucked off by you. That can't help but see your offer as a gesture of sincerity and full acceptance." "HONK! HONK!" "That must be Jeff. He's a bit early. Do I look okay? You know I always want to look right for my man. Guess what I'm not wearing any panties so as to be more available. Gotta run darling. As usual, don't wait up. By the way, your mom called. She said she'll be bringing the kids by in a hour. She took them to the zoo today. I left dinner for you and them in the fridge. As usual, all you have to do is pop everything in the microwave." The beautiful wife pecked her husband on the cheek as she dashed out the door. Her husband just sat there for a long time sipping on a drink he poured from a bottle of scotch. He appeared deep in thought. An hour passed before the sound of children could be heard running in. "Daddy! Daddy! Grandma took us to the zoo. We saw the elephants, tigers, bears and a gorilla." Three coffee colored skin youngsters spoke in almost perfect unison. The man, obviously not their biological father, greeted them and had further conversation with them before he agreed they could go out to play before dinner. "Hi son, I see you're doing dinner. I like the new apron." "Vicki got it for me. It does help to keep stains off my clothes. I really don't like this color or the flower embroidered on it. She says it purple, but you can plainly see it's lavender. She started to complain about me not liking anything she buys me. I kept it and wore it to keep the peace." "A good marriage requires compromise from time to time dear." "I know mother, b-but it seems like that's all I do is compromise and give in to what she wants or needs." "Oh it's not that bad son." "How can you say that mother. Right after our marriage, I was faced with an annulment because s-she said I-I couldn't consummate the marriage. Claiming I-I was just too small and that she needed more than my tongue." "You know she was right." "W-Well maybe, b-but having to accept her openly dating other men, and black men at that, was just a lot to swallow, but I did. Soon she had as many full time regular lovers as there was days of the week." "Son, you have a beautiful wife who has healthy sexual needs. You can't handle all of them for her, so her other men help out. That's all there is to it." "I-I guess you're right mom, but it just seems so unfair that for the last eight years, I've had to play virtually second, no eighth fiddle, to all her studs. Do you know I don't get a chance to have regular sex with her for over a month sometimes? They really consume her time. Sure she always has time for me to eat her out after they've filled her, but she has so little time for me to put it in. She claims she's too tired a lot of the time when it's my turn for intercourse. I-I have to jerk off many times." "I understand son, and like I told you before there is nothing wrong with you doing that to release your pent up fluids. Masturbation is an accepted means of relieving your sexual pressure. Remember the pastor saying that? Remember? It was when I asked him to counsel you when you wanted a divorce after she got pregnant with your children, the twins?" "You keep saying our children. You know very well that they aren't..." "Shush! You know I told you not to talk that way. She's your wife. No matter who puts it in her, whatever comes out is yours. The babies are legally yours. End of story. They're my grandkids and your children, end of story. Now say you're sorry!" "I-I-I a-apologize m-mother. I-I didn't mean to get you u-upset." Her son stammered nervously. It was obvious, that even as a grown man his mother intimidated him. "That's better. Now like I was saying, it's perfectly normal to masturbate. The pastor also encouraged you sucking her cunt, especially after her real men love her. Remember him saying you should not be scared of the taste of her filled juicy cunt?" "Y-Yes ma'am." "And remember how nice of him to help you get acclimated to the taste. How he went out of his way and sexed your new bride right in front of you and gave you an opportunity to eat her out with him there so he could advise you how to do a good job of it? He gave both of you some good pointers. Remember him telling your wife how to mount your face and move her cunt? And remember how he had y'all come back for several weeks to check on your progress." "It was more like a year. That was humiliating too. Having to watch him do it to her and then have both of them direct me h-how to clean her up with my mouth afterwards. He really seem to like her straddled over my upturned face and have her give him head while I-I sucked their fuck juices out of her draining pussy. I was glad he was transferred to another city." "I'm warning you. Don't speak ill of the pastor." His mother's face showed her displeasure at his remark. "I-I didn't mean anything wrong mother. It's - it's just that I feel so downtrodden at times. I'm - I'm virtually a slave in my own home." "How can you say that son?" "Can't you see it? Her black lovers literally rule our lives. Everything centers around them. They come and go all times of night. Her priorities are based on theirs. She has me loan them money I know I'll never get back. They all have their own house keys. They come in and have me get out of my own bed so much, I just started sleeping on the couch in the den." "Didn't she have a folding cot put in the bedroom last month so you wouldn't have to leave?" "Y-Yes b-but I-I hate it . having to l-listen... a-and watch them have sex." "We've gone over this before. It's your obligation as her husband to be near your wife whenever she feels she needs you, even if it's when she's with other men." "I-I know she gets off knowing I'm there and can't do anything about it but look and listen. She really enjoys it when her lover calls me over to lick and suck her clean of his cum. T-They all want me to clean her cunt between comes." "Like I said, it's your duty to please your wife in such little ways." "It-it may be my duty, b-but it's so humiliating. All her boyfriends shoot so much cum too. I-I also hate having to lap the man's genitals clean between their sex bouts, b- but they all want me to do it. S-so I have to. She really likes seeing me degrade myself doing that." "How many times have we both told you that orally administering to her men after they've sexed her was not degrading or anything to be ashamed of. Not only did the pastor tell you that, he had you practice on him the whole time he was helping and counseling y'all. Remember him telling you it was just a way of paying your respects to the better man?" "I-I do. I-I guess my pride keeps getting in the way. H-he said that I-I would have to fight that." "And you should. I really thought you were beyond letting your silly macho pride get in the way of being a supportive, loving, faithful husband and good father." "I-I do want to be a good husband, but sometimes I-I feel so overwhelmed by it all. I-I feel so stressed at times. Take for instance, Lloyd and George said I acted like I was prejudice because they were black. I don't know how they arrived at that conclusion. After all, they're the real fathers of our children. They don't pay one cent of child support. They have complete run of the house. I-I don't know how many hundreds of dollars I've loaned them - which I don't expect to get back. So, after listening to them and Lillie and you and her mom, I-I agreed to suck them off to completion and swallow their semen, as well as my wife's other five regular black studs - you know, a-as a gesture of my good faith that I'm not a bigot or prejudice. Well, now they're saying that I still showed insincerity when I did them. Can you imagine that mother? Now they want me to be available to give them head on demand, anytime they desire, to completion mind you, not just licking them clean. And to top it off, Lillie agrees with them." "Why are you against becoming a cocksucker for them my dear son? It's just your silly pride isn't it.?" "I-I just don't see it that way. It-It just seem like I'm going beyond being respectful. It's l-l-like I'll be their mouth whore." "Such harsh words. No dear, they won't see you that way. Sincerity is not something that you can demonstrate by doing something once. It may take hundreds of times. Sucking their dicks whenever they want you to, and swallowing every drop of hot spunk they give you is the right thing for you to do son." His mother had a serious countenance on her face. "Y-You really think so?" The beleaguered look on her son's face showed the look of pending resignation to do what he really didn't want to do. "Yes dear. It's for the continued healthiness of your marriage. You really have to keep your macho pride in check, for it will overrule the really important pride. That of being a good husband to Lillie and a good daddy to the babies she'll be having by her other men. Remember, they are her real men,." "I-I see." Replied her weary son with the look of complete capitulation on his face as he let his mom envelop him in her arms with a tight hug. "Speaking of babies, you know she and Liston are working on one now?" "Y-yes, they told me two weeks ago." "And you didn't tell me? I know, you wanted it be a surprise." "N-Not really. I-I was trying to talk her out of it. She's thinking of having kids from all her studs she's been dating for at least two years. S-She says in two years she gets to know if he really likes them enough to have their baby." "What's wrong with that?" "What? Well for one thing, all of her current lovers have been dating her for at least two years. I-I just don't know if we c-can afford that many kids. And what if she has another set of twins?" "Don't you dare try to dissuade her. I want my grandkids. If need be, you'll just have to get a second job. Lillie is built to breed. She loves to be pregnant after being bred by a man with the right equipment. I don't mean to hurt you son, but you know she's told you that many times. That's why it's important to suppress your macho pride, it'll only cause you mental anguish." "I-I know. She says it's like a boil. The best way is to stop the pain is to lance it. She says the best way to rid myself of the anguish of her sexing and being bred by men better than me is for me to be constantly reminded of that fact. When she was pregnant, both times, she constantly reminded me each morning that the baby wasn't mine. I had to acknowledge that the better man had knocked her up, and before going to work, I had to kiss her swollen belly every morning and every evening after I came home, and thank her for having another man's baby for us." "That's so sweet and loving." His mother replied smiling at her obviously subjugated son. "Damn fly!" Our winged eavesdropper, once again detected and cursed, made his getaway to another part of the house, hid various places until the morning and departed into the great outdoors at the first opportunity. He rode the warm morning air before being drawn toward the smell of breakfast at another dwelling. He easily entered a cracked door and began again his listening vigil. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& Copyright c MARCH 1, 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved. HOUSE #6 Our fly friend observed a brunette, dressed in a long robe and a towel around her head, cooking breakfast and children and a man at the breakfast table eating. The man was in business attire, the kids obviously on their way to school. Moments later, the kids rushed off in the direction of the door after getting kisses and hugs from the man and woman, obviously their mother and father. After the two girls left for the school bus in front of their house, the front door slammed. It was then the wife unloosened her robe such that it hung open in front. Her shapely tits and well shaped dark bushy cunt were clearly visible. She next removed the towel from her head and let her rolled up hair fall loosely down. She next sat down at the table with a cup of coffee and crossed her legs, not bothering to worry about the unfastened robe. It was now obvious that the robe hid her true beauty. It was very obvious now that she was totally nude underneath the open robe. She was voluptuous. "I-I wish you wouldn't do that. You know I need some bad. Y-You just want me to get a hard-on while going to work. Y-You're just being a cock tease. H-He's coming by today isn't he?" The man asked with a sour look on his face. "Yes. This morning in fact." The woman replied as she leisurely sipped her coffee. "Donna why do you do this to me? Y-You know I tossed and turned all last night. You could at least have jerked me off s-since you won't let me put it in." "You know the rules darling. You don't get in until after Dan has had me first and says it's okay for you to have some. That includes jacking you off." She said with a smug smile. "D-Donna w-we've been married for 10 y-years. H-How can you treat me like this if-if you love me?" "I do love you very much darling. I love you more than Dan. I just demand more of you than him." "B-But how can you say that when y-you've had two children from him?" "Simple, I wanted to get pregnant from him. We've been through this all before. I wanted him to be the father of `our' children dear. I knew his babies would be prettier than yours, but I know you'd be a better daddy for them. Dan isn't the family type. Besides he's better equipped for baby making." "D-Donna y-you know it h-hurts me to-to hear you say that." "Darling you simply have to get over it. There is no reason to live in the past. He's given us two beautiful daughters. You know you adore them. You know you like children." "I do, but..." "No buts honey, the truth is that Dan is the better man and I selected him to sire our babies. Now since you claimed you love me, you should be okay with all this and put your foolish pride on the shelf and be the good husband and daddy I want you to be." "Y-You know I love you so much... a-and I try hard to be a good husband to you and father to the children. B-But it-it's so humiliating to have to continue to play second fiddle to him all the time. Now that we have the children can't you let him..." "Let him go? No way. For one reason, he's too good in bed to let go. You know you're not man enough to take up the slack if he was to leave. Besides darling, I want another baby for us." "W-What! N-No Donna... please don't do this to me again?" "Why not. Our youngest is now seven and it would be a good time for me to get us another bundle of joy. Dan said he wants a son for us." The couple went into a another involved round of discussion as to whether the woman should have another baby. That seem to be the only issue and there was no discussion about who the biological father was to be. "Oh Donna, h-how can you do this to me. I-I've been faithful just like I promised you a-a-and..." "Dear, please! Lets not go down that road again. I know you've been faithful. Otherwise I would've left you before now. You know that don't you?" "Uh..., I-I k-know you s-said you would. B-But d-did you really m-mean it?" "Of course darling. The only reason I stay is because I love you. You seem to forget that. You seem to keep equating sex with love. Remember darling, my love is for you. You have total control over it. Dan has control of my pussy and what goes in it. You get what comes out of it. Whether it's his fuck juices he leaves in there for you to taste, or the beautiful babies he's given us. Understand?" "Y-Y-Yes d-dear. O-Okay... I-I do." "Good. Now you better hurry and get to work. We don't want you being late. I love you dear, remember that. You're good at loving me and Dan is good at fucking me, it's as simple as that. Okay?" "O-Okay dear." Her husband replied with an air of resignation as his wife kissed him and walked toward the door with him. As the two neared the door, the sound of a key in the lock could be heard. The door opened. A tall muscular built man could be seen. The husband cringed and the wife cried out in joy as she leaped toward the new figure on the scene and wrapped her arms around him. "How ya baby?" The new man on the scene roared in his deep masculine voice. "SMOOCH." The sound of a juicy kiss was loudly heard. The lady's husband stood frozen as if spellbound, as he watched the spectacle before him as the man reached around and caressed the naked body of the woman's torso underneath the open robe she wore. She immediately opened her legs for his benefit. Quickly she unzipped his pants and put her hand in his fly. As the stranger and the man's wife broke their passionate embrace, the tall man looked in the husband's direction. "Howdy Howard." "H-Hi Dan." The husband replied meekly as he looked up at the taller man who still had his big muscular arms around the inside of the woman's robe. "Well I guess you best be on your way to work. I'll take care of things around here while you're at the office." The man referred to as Dan said to the husband as he, the husband, silently moved toward the open door. "Dan, I told Howard you and I are going to start making another baby as soon as the pill wears off in another two weeks or so." Howard's wife said. "Yeah Howard, I'm gonna go shopping for a boy. Didn't stroke her right the last time." Spoke the tall man, whose name was apparently Dan. "Howard is thrilled about you knocking me up darling." The woman said giggling. "You're as good man Howard. Maybe this time instead of just holding my balls as I fuck her, maybe it'll be better if you lick them too while I'm creaming in her good pussy." The man named Howard cringed and turned even redder as he looked stunned at the other man's words. "That's a good idea. That should get your cum heated up even more. You think of everything darling." Howard's wife replied as she pecked her lover on the face and laid her face on his chest. "See you later Howard." Dan said as he and Howard's wife walked back into the hall way to the bedrooms. "I'll call you later at work dear. Have a good day. And don't jerk off at work! Now that Dan is here you can have some tonight after you get home." His wife added without even looking back at her pathetic pitiful husband. After a moment or so, Howard finally moved toward the door to apparently make his way to work. Our fly friend, seeing the open door, quickly flew toward it, preferring the open doors to the rather predictable activity that would be going on inside the house. Our friendly spy fly made his escape into the fresh morning air and flew over the cuckolded husband's car as it left the driveway. EPILOGUE: As our fly spy flew away, he pondering all that he'd heard over the last few days. After a prolonged period of thought and reflection, he came to the conclusion that truth is sometimes harder to believe than fiction. ###END### Like these type fictional stories? Send comments or future story ideas to CDE at [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c 1998 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(MM/F, MM, MF, Inter, Impreg) WARNING: DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE AUTHOR: C.D.E. STORY TITLE: A FAMILY MATTER CHAPTER ONE: THE BEGINNING My wife and I have been married for twenty two years. We both got married when we were 17. We have a daughter 21. My wife started having an affair with, and left me for a black stud named Vick. We had been separated for over a year. Nothing I did could get her back in town and back to me. She was now thinking of divorcing me. My mother as well as our daughter and my sister tried to talk with me and her and acted as emissaries to work out things so as to salvage our long happy marriage. I still loved my wife Judy very dearly. Judy didn't want to give up Vick, even if she stayed with me. Her reason, he was just the kind of "real man" she needed. My family understood her and presented me with the deal they'd worked out. My wife was there with them. "I want you to know I love you still no matter what you think about me and the arrangement I presented to your family." I hugged and kissed her, then we sat down for mother to lay out details of the brokered arrangement. My wife and I held hands as mother explained the conditions. I was dumfounded by the proposal presented. My wife, Judy still held my hands as she explained that I'd never satisfied her fully with my small prick and that she knew there was no way to turn herself away from Vick's "good loving". The women in my family told me they understood her position and thought that the deal was good for both of us. "Daddy, I've been with a black man and I don't think I could ever go back to a small white cock again. So I know how mom feels. It's not your fault dad. And don't feel like you're being put upon. We all still love you, but I think it's time for mom to enjoy more than you have to offer." My daughter said in defense of her mother as well as trying to console me. My sister echoed a similar sentiment. Mother even surprised me that she too revealed she'd been with a few black men since being a widow and understood fully, as well as supported my wife's position. "Son, you'll be near her and you two can spend time together." Spoke mother. When I asked about still having sex with Judy, she held my hands tighter as she nervously spoke. "Well honey, my cunt has been stretched quite a bit by Vicks big rod, and I just don't see how I'd get any pleasure at all from your little, er, your prick anymore. So, honey you see, I don't see any need for you to even trying putting it in ... and also ... Vick didn't like the idea of you having intercourse with me, once he and I move back to the house." I know I looked and sounded pitiful. My voice cracked as I asked `What am I suppose to do? Do I have to go to another woman to get off?' "Of course not dear. Plus, I won't tolerate you messing around with another woman. Honey you can still suck my pussy. I know you like doing that so much, and you do it real good. And Vick has agreed to that. But dear, I love you very much, but You see, I . I want you to jerk off when you need some. That way I'll know for sure you're sincere about wanting me back. That's the only way I'll agree to you living with me and Vick. And definitely no other woman permitted" My wife said with stern sincerity in her voice. "T-That's nuts. I.I have my needs. I.I'll want to put it in too." My wife smirking slightly, shook her head emphatically signaling no to my statement and spoke. "Only your tongue dear, nothing else". "B-But I-I just can't jack off any mo., I-I mean." "We know what you mean son. We all know that's what you've been doing since she's been gone." Mother interjected. "N-No, I-I should be allowed to v-visit women for." "WHAP!" My mother slapped me so forcefully I reeled sideways from the unexpected impact. Her quickness caught me off guard. "How could you be so selfish at a time of crisis like this?" My mother shot out as she towered over me as I rubbed my bruised face. "Daddy how could you think of not being faithful and devoted to mom?" Cried my daughter. "Brother! You know I use to spank you for mom, when you were naughty. With that kind of insensitivity and talk, I've got a good mind to take you across my knee right now." Yelled my older sister, who was physically able to do as she proposed. The three women easily intimidated me as I cringed and sought protection as I cringed by my wife's side. The person who was the cause of all this anger being directed at me. I continued to hold her hands. The vigor of my family's reactions surprised and frightened me. They were all larger than me. "Now! Now! What he said is just a knee jerk reaction. You're just confused and flustered aren't you honey?" Spoke my errant wife with an air of soft authority. `Y-Yes dear.' I replied meekly. "I thought so." She said kissing me on my forehead. "There'll be no more silly talk of other women. This is what we'll do. When you need some, we'll help you masturbate darling." The other three women readily agreed with my wife that her idea was much more sane and reasonable. They all offered to help me out when I needed sex. "Don't you worry a bit daddy, I've jerked many a cocks off into kleenex pussies. You can count on me to help out." Spoke my daughter in a boasting tone. "It'll be like old times brother. I've jacked you off many times. Remember all those times you got hard from looking under my skirt?" Said my sister chuckling. Mother also chimed in and reminded me how she use to jerk me off before I went on dates, so as to take some of the fire out of me so I wouldn't get any girls pregnant. Needless to say, I was not only shocked and alarmed by what was happening to me, but deeply embarrassed as well. CHAPTER TWO: A FAMILY'S HELP As Part of the agreement, I was to move to a storage room in the basement, as Vick didn't think it was a good idea for me to be on the same floor as the master bedroom, where he and my wife would sleep. The room was like a small apartment. It had a bathroom also. Mother and the others helped me move and decorate it. I didn't like the lavender and pink/white color scheme, but it was no use arguing with three bossy women. I met Vick and couldn't but be envious of his good looks and muscular build. As I was preparing to go to bed my first night in my new basement bedroom, in walked mother, my sister and daughter. "We came to help you christen your new room and to show you we were serious about being there when you needed us." Said mother as the three surrounded the bed and pulled the cover away from me and sought to open my pajamas and find my prick. My daughter soon had me in her hands. I tried to keep them from going any further, but my mother and sister pinned my arms and held me back allowing my daughter free reins on me. "Mom's right, you are small daddy. But don't worry, I'll take care of you." She giggled as she began to slowly stroke and fondle my stiffening prick. "Here's mom. Isn't she pretty and sexy. She and Vick are going out." Spoke my daughter. As I looked over at Judy, I couldn't helped be awed at how sensuous and sexy and delectable she looked in a tight thigh high mini dress that was so revealing. My prick pulsed and I thought sure I'd loss my load, but I hadn't. I was fighting coming by my daughter's actions, but I knew I would lose if my wife stayed around much longer. She looked gorgeous. "You like this dear?" She said as she twirled around in her high heels. "This is one of Vick's favorite outfits. And look at these." She hiked up her very short hemline and showed me a pair of very skimpy split crotch lacy panties. Her dark full lush bush was very discernible peeking through. My prick got harder. I was doing everything to hold my load. "You do like them don't you honey? Vick does, he likes to be able to reach over and play with my pussy from time to time." I knew now my wife was taunting me. "C'mon dear don't hold back show me you like me dressed like this. Let me see you shoot your load for me. Here look at my panties up close." When she got closer and closer, I loss more and ground to my daughter's skillful manipulations. By the time she got next to the bed, I spurted into my daughter's kleenex pussy. They all cheered me and to celebrate the christening of my room as well as a way of kissing her goodnight, my wife straddled my face and had me kiss her on her cunt. I was alarmed when I heard my wife let my sister know that I was only a single shooter, so she didn't have to worry about me needing to come again in a few minutes. Before the others left, they demanded the same. I was so embarrassed to perform such gross acts of incest as each one of their hairy cunts were placed over my face to be licked and kissed. Little did I know this would become a common repetitive event with a little different flavoring to add. CHAPTER 3: THREE YEARS LATER: REMEMBERING THE PAST It's been three years since Vick moved in. I found myself reflecting over the events that led to my current situation. First there was the insistence by my wife that I suck her wet slimy cunt after Vick had creamed in her. I resisted a long time, but finally gave in when it was clear she wasn't going to let me taste her pussy at all if I didn't do as she desired. Since I had humiliated myself so much already, I gave in. I discovered her gooey drippy gash didn't taste that bad. Doing this same time, Vick and I were developing what I call a strong man, weak male relationship. That is, he knew he was king of the mountain, and didn't have to prove anything. I on the other hand knew I was in a lesser secondary role and knew only that his actions would define my limits. I was shy around him but couldn't help but admire his assertive manner. He and I soon sort of found common grounds to have some good conversations and soon a rapport was developed between us that left intact his obvious superior role and my subordinate one. The relationship just sort of developed naturally. Take for instance if he and I were watching TV, it was understood it would be the program he desired to watch. If he wanted a beer out of the fridge, he'd simply say "I'd like a beer", and I'd get it for him. I did respect him for the good sexing he was giving my wife, which we often talked about. After it was common knowledge I was eating his cum out of her cunt, that was also a topic of our conversations. He might tell me how many loads he shot off in her and then ask me, good heartedly, how much of it did I get to eat. I at first was embarrassed at us talking about this, but because he didn't make it sound the least bit condescending, I soon got over any shame of discussing the subject with him. You see, it just seemed natural to him that I would do this. This made it easier for me to tell him how flavorful he made her cunt taste. My wife and mother were very pleased that he and I were having such "open" conversations. Equally embarrassing for me at first was him knowing that the only sexual relief I got was by my hands or those of the women when they stroked my prick. It seemed they enjoyed taunting and teasing me by holding up their skirts or flashing their tits at me. Everyone laughed as they chided me about not getting any except by getting my meat beat. A month after we three set up our unusual marital arrangement, I was caught on videotape masturbating. My daughter had accidentally left the unit on in a bedroom where I'd gone to get relief from her, my wife, and sister teasing me as they stripped and tried on sexy lingerie. They made me watch promising to jerk me off as a reward. I only got their laughter as they once again fooled me and changed their minds about masturbating me. The tape was later used by my wife and mother as justification to put a sort of chastity belt on me that would lock my prick until they said it was timed for me to be milked. They ganged up on me. I was held down, with Vick's help, while my wife securely locked the device on me. I was irate at such a dastardly deed by them all. I spewed profanity at them all. The only thing it all got me was the worse whipping I'd ever had in my life. My wife, sister, and, mother, all took turns lashing me with a piece of thick electric cord, which Vick supplied. When they got through with me, my bottom was in severe pain laced with thick welts. I was a different person the next day. I'd been beaten. I knew my place. I never got rebellious again. I didn't blink or hesitate when my wife demanded an apology as I served her and Vick breakfast the next morning, that is, for my behavior the night before - which led to the whipping. I knew from that moment on, that I had basically become enslaved to not only my wife and her handsome black lover, but also to my family as well. You see mother too demanded an apology in writing. The note was very descriptive, detailed and incriminating should anyone outside the family read it. She dictated it and ordered me to sign. Even though knowing it could severely embarrassed me if in the wrong hands, my immediate worry was about another lashing if I didn't. I had no fight left in me. With a broken will, I signed. Vick and my wife were watching as I placed my signature on the embarrassing note. They both smiled as I sheepishly submitted to mother's abject demands, which included reading the signed note aloud. In it she also had a sentence which read "I fully understand and accept that my wife and her black lover or lovers will determine when I am to have sexual relief, and then only through masturbation when they grant me their permission. I enjoy beating my meat and therefore am glad they care enough for me to be controlled so that it won't affect my health." "See I told you he was a mama's boy." Spoke mother as she held the note up toward Vick and my wife. Every since Vick moved in, his masculinity and manliness were so great compared to me. As a result, I quickly gave up trying to even think about competing with him. Instead, I found it easier to let him be the man of the house and me to be myself. That is, to be servile to him while delighting in doing the things I was good at - domestic household management. Also, Vick's acceptance that this was my domain and his praises at how well I cooked, cleaned and ironed pleased me exceedingly. He often said I did "woman's work" better than a lot of women. I remembered mother's compliments. "Dear, I'm pleased with the way you've accepted and adjusted to Vick. It's marvelous the way you've accepted your responsibility as a good husband and made him feel welcome. He really likes your cooking and the way you iron his shirts." She also chided me about my initial reluctance to wear the set of lace trimmed old fashion large pinafores she and the others had bought for me. "Dear, those pinafores look so good on you. I don't know which one I like the best - the pink, lavender, or the white one. But I'm so glad you've stop grumbling about wearing them. Vick also loves seeing you wear them too." I remember being so ashamed of being forced by my wife and the others to wear those fancy feminine aprons, but they were so practical and in no time, me wearing them just became part of my normal attire. As a reward for being so cooperative, accepting, and supporting my wife's new marital arrangement, mother gave me a blow job instead of simply jerking me off. That made me feel good. One notable event during this time was when my daughter's black boyfriend's condom burst while they were having intercourse in one of the bedrooms at our house. She came to me and told me about the situation. Vick overheard us and recommended that I give her a good sucking quick, so that she wouldn't get pregnant, since she wasn't on the pill. Being a concerned father, I quickly pressed myself into service as her birth control and sucked her luscious hairy cunt as thoroughly as I could. I agreed with her that she should straddle my upturned face so her cunt could drain as I sucked. In the process of me cleaning her out she got off twice. After that, she came to me frequently to get her cunt sucked, as insurance, for pin hole leaks in her various lover's condoms. One day I was talking to Vick about her and how I felt guilty about sucking her out. "You should be glad to help her out, after all she's your daughter." His remark did make me feel more at ease about the situation. I also talked to him about the many different men she was seeing. I lamented and told him I hoped she wouldn't be going out and sexing all of them. He told me he'd do me a favor and talk to her about that. That made me feel better that he took an interest in my problem. About this time, was when my wife started a night job. Little did I realize at the time that she was whoring for him. I didn't find out about what she was doing until I got laid off. Since she was bringing home the bacon, there was little I could say. I couldn't seem to find another job, so I basically become a full time housemaid and servant for Vick. Out of the money my wife made, he gave me an allowance of $10 a week for my work. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing, plus all the bills were being paid and he told me and my wife he liked having me around the house to wait on him and cook his meals while everyone else was out working. I was always good at and enjoyed doing housework, so I really didn't object strongly at his request. It was so much less stressful than my old job anyway. Mother fully encouraged me to stay home and be "domestic" in my colorful pinafores. I noticed that my daughter soon wasn't going out as much but staying home with me and Vick. And when she did go out, it was with Vick. This made me feel good that she was under his `protection' while they went out for drinks and to clubs. Vick is about 15 years older than my daughter, so imagined my shock when I discovered he was screwing her regularly behind my back and that she wanted to have a baby by him. I was irate, but my wife and mother and sister thought this was wonderful news and quite supportive of her. "Honey, I gave her my okay to sex Vick. She was really helping me out since he can easily take care both of us and then some. And remember, weren't you concerned about her being out with so many different men? Now you don't have to worry about that." To appease me, Vick offered that I could act as her birth control. "That way, if she get's knocked up you can't blame me." I didn't like his compromise that much, but I reluctantly accepted it. He and I shook on it. My daughter, who had problems taking the pill, rejoiced that Vick didn't have to use rubbers anymore when they fucked. She was happy that she could feel "his black meat" and be flooded by his cum. "Daddy, to make sure you have every chance, it's best if you're there when we do it so you can suck out each load when he creams in me." I hated to admit it, but I knew she was right. After my wife left for work that evening, I started my tour of duty as oral birth control for my daughter and Vick. They offered me a seat in the bedroom while they made love, but I told them to call me when they needed me. The first time they called I quickly knelt between her open legs to suck out his bountiful thick oozing load of scum. My daughter let me know how good it felt to be flooded and dripping with Vick's big load of jism. As in our previous routine, she sat on my face for good drainage in addition to my deep sucking and probing scooping tongue. Confident I'd done the best I could, she removed her wet gash from my face and I sat in a chair by the bed to catch my breath. My jaws and tongue ached also. "Daddy, don't you think you ought to get that cum on the head of his dick before we start screwing again?" I looked at the thick glob of jism that'd oozed out of his pee slit and hung tenaciously at the end of his semi-hard giant prick. `Good idea', I sighed as I walked over and bent over his heated crotch and held his dick and lapped up the slimy droplet from his cock head. My mind was on making sure that his sperm didn't get her pregnant, so I didn't really think about anything else as I cleaned the head of his oozing dick with my flicking tongue. "If you suck me slowly and softly until I'm hard, you'll be sure to get all that oozing scum before we start fucking again. Be sure and keep your teeth out of the way." He warned. Focused entirely on what I was there for, I followed Vick's advice as the two of them looked on smiling. I engulfed his dick head with my lips and slowly suckled it as he'd suggested. He was right about there being more dregs of his cum, I could easily taste them as I sucked the smooth velvety cock head and kept the tip of my tongue in his giant pee slit. I could feel his cock head swelling and his prick getting stiff in my mouth. I took my mouth away from his swelling dick head fearful it would get lodged in my mouth. It was just that big. He assured me it wouldn't and I was able to fit my mouth back over it to give it one last suck to be sure I'd gotten all of his oozing semen. "Daddy, if you really want to be sure you got it all, you'd better lick all that dried pussy juice off his shaft. There may be some dried jism there too." I heeded my daughter's advice and lapped and washed his black shaft all around with my tongue and lips. I went from the crown of his huge cock head to the base of his thick stalk of rigid meat. As I worked my tongue and lips around the base of his shaft, my nose often made contact with his thick crotch hairs and his big balls. "Daddy's really doing a good job, isn't he?" I heard my daughter say as I worked at what I was doing. Vick concurred. "Since you're handy, why don't you guide it in for me." Vick said as he positioned himself back between my daughter's legs. Always desiring to be helpful, I gingerly aimed the tip of his rigid organ to the juicy wet hairy lips of her cunt. This time I took them up on their offer to stay as I sat to rest my back - from bending over his crotch - as well as to wet my whistle with the drink I'd brought with me. The cool wetness of it was welcomed as all that sucking and licking had made my mouth gluey and gummy. I mentally sighed at how much work there was in doing a good job of oral birth control. As I looked at my daughter and Vick in the passionate throes of intercourse again, I couldn't help but admire the way they both were performing, especially how she was taking all of his monstrous manhood. I felt a certain pride in seeing her accommodating him so well. She was good at taking such a big dick. It was obvious she had lots of experience. They soon were ready for me again. I went through the same routine again. Before they were through with their love making for the night, they needed my services four times. I left them asleep in each other's arms as I finish extracting the last load of fuck juices from her well satisfied pussy. Her hairy mounds were slightly puffy and swollen. At my daughter's request, I also milked his cock head a little before I left, since she said she was too tired to do it for him and I was already down there between them. In a way it seemed natural for me to do it out of respect and homage for the man's stamina. I left them confident and satisfied of having done my best. Later that night after I was asleep, my wife came in and had me suck her cunt clean of her Johns' residual jism. "It was a good night honey. I turned 21 tricks with 15 blow jobs." She said after I'd sucked her out and had a passionate French kissing session with her. She spoke as she slowly jerked me off as we laid there. After I shot off, she showed me her night's take of $1,350. I helped her count the wad of small bills. We sat and talked some more. I told her about how things went with Vick and our daughter my first time as their `birth control'. "You should feel proud of your daughter pleasing a fine black man like Vick and being able to take all he has to give her. Just as you'd take pride if you had a son who was a stud, you should take equal pride if your daughter is a good piece of ass to men, and especially so if to black studs." We continued to talk and I eased into another topic I was uneasy about. "Honey, as a good father, you do what you have to do. Sucking his dick was required. Case closed. You were being a good little daddy. You should feel good about all you did tonight and not think negatively in the least about having your mouth on his dick. It was a good experience for you. Maybe you can see how enjoyable I find sucking on such a fine black tool." Her comments made me feel much more comfortable that what I was doing was the right thing. I thanked her for her counsel. I told her Vick was probably tired out tonight and wouldn't be able to do her tonight. She laughed and had me follow her to their bedroom. On the way, she stopped and brushed her teeth and gargled. She let me know that Vick didn't want to kiss unless she'd done that. Vick and our daughter were still asleep in each other's arms. My wife went over and nudged our daughter who woke with a most blissful look on her face. She and my wife hugged and greeted each other. "Night Daddy." My daughter said sleepily as she left to go to her room. Vick, who was stirring slowly, turned over to greet my wife. To my amazement, his erection also greeted her too. It was just as stiff and ready as the first time I saw it in action earlier in the evening. "See dear, he's ever ready." My wife said as she held his palpitating member and placed a kiss on it's plum size head. "There's enough here for all of us." She said as she undressed and hopped into his arms. Later I was to find out how true was her statement. I was still dumbfounded as I stood there, but soon I realized I should go back to bed and leave them to their activity. I heard Vick call me as I headed for the door. "Since you're here, how about putting it in for me before you leave." As if dazed by his prowess, I once again guided his sturdy tool to a gaping juicy cunt eagerly awaiting it. Vick and my daughter kept me busy. They were fucking virtually every night. It was a good thing I didn't have a job to go to each morning other than household chores. There was no doubt that Vick and I grew even closer because of my birth control efforts and the fact that I was now more intimately familiar with his sexual stamina and his dick itself. After the first couple of days, I'd virtually gotten over being angry about him screwing my daughter as well as my wife. He and I both respect each other for what we do in this relationship. I enjoy cooking his favorite meals and the compliments he gives me for doing that, as well as my other work around the house. He doesn't pick up his clothes or do anything else around the house. He lets me do it because that's my job, as well as to wait on him when he's home. After all, that's what he says he's paying me for. Other than eat, manage the household money, gamble, work out at the gym and sexing the women, he does nothing else. One day while I was busy ironing the bed sheets, something my wife insists on - as well as changing she and Vick's beds daily - Vick called me. As usual, I stopped what I was doing and rushed to see what he needed. He'd been watching a porno video and his dick was really hard as he sat there with his robe open. His monstrous rod stood straight up. "Call yo mama and tell her to git over here. I need some pussy." I did as he ordered me to. Recently he'd been screwing mother and my sister off and on when they needed some, or he needed some and neither my wife or daughter were around. Well my sister was at work, so only mother was available during the day. "Dear, I'm tied up with the postman right now." Mother was panting as she spoke so I knew she was involved in some sexual activity. She couldn't come over. After I hung up the phone I told Vick what the situation was with her, He walked over to where I was. His erection looked so formidable as it swung so stiffly. He faced me and placed my hand on his heated hard palpitating meat. It was so swollen. I knew it was throbbing and bothering him. "You're a mama's boy, so kneel and suck my dick for yo mama." I'd never sucked him off all the way before, so naturally I was stunned at his request. I hesitated. That irritated him. He slapped me. since he'd never hit me before. "DAMN IT! You fucking fairy! My dick's hard! Wrap your lips around my bone! And you better keep yo fucking teeth out of the way!" He shouted as he pushed me to the floor. It was clear what I had to do. He moaned so sweetly as I engulfed the familiar head of his dick. I had to stretch my mouth wide as I got as much of him in me as I could. The feel of his heated hardness in my mouth was different this time. The other strange thing was that since I knew he was planning to come in my mouth that seem to add a totally different element to what was happening. He shot a copious load and surprisingly I managed to swallow all his heated slimy discharge. It was so hot and gooey. He kept me on my knees and literally fucked my face until he'd shot another heavy thick creamy load. I held on to his strong thighs as he held the back of my head. I milked him for a long while after he'd creamed in my mouth. After he'd had enough, he pulled his softened dick from my lips and ordered me to get him a beer. Meekly, I returned with the beer and a glass on a serving tray. I opened and poured it like I usually do. He was so much more relaxed now. "That'll go away in no time." He said as he reached out and turned my head to look at the reddish imprint of his hand on my face. "You can get on back to your ironing. I'll call you if I need anything else." I returned to my chores with an odd feeling. I had two huge loads of his hot jism in my tummy and a slimy, but not totally unpleasant aftertaste in my mouth. Moments later, I had gotten over being angry at what he'd done. I'd rationalized that his sex drive had gotten the best of him and that it was difficult for him to apologize to me. Mother called later. I told her how things worked out. "Dear, I agree with you. This can only bond you two closer together, as well as show him that you can handle his needs. And you're right about him being concerned about your face. That was his way of saying thanks for being there for him." Mother was not surprised about me getting over my anger towards him for his manhandling. "Dear, you know they say a hard dick has no conscience. Well, when your man see's you're a little hesitant to go along with his program, especially when he has an aching throbbing dick, he might give you a little attitude adjustment to see things his way. And that's all that happened between you. You're right to be glad rather than angry. Baby, I'm pleased this happened. Vick was just being his manly self, but in the process, helped you appreciate him more, as he broadened your role in the relationship. He really helped you build your confidence to do and be more for him." Mother congratulated me on becoming "a full fledged cocksucker" and active member of the "Vick's Dick Fan Club". We both had a good chuckle. Before we hung up, she not only let me know it wasn't perverse and I shouldn't be ashamed to be called a "cocksucker" or "faggot". She even encouraged me to think about becoming a drag queen for Vick. "I really think you'd look so sweet swishing around the house, and in front of him, in a French maid's uniform and low heels. Think about it dear, you'll probably get his dick hard more often for you. Bye now." I thought about what she said. My wife had also mentioned something similar about me dressing in more feminine attire. She thought I should wear a maid's uniform because they were more efficient than the large lacy old fashioned pinafores I wore over my normal male attire. "Anyway honey, I think it would be a fitting gesture in honor of our first anniversary with Vick, if you dressed as a maid." She expressed that it would be fitting tribute to his manliness and the harmony he'd brought to our house and family. I listened. What could I say? Was there to be no respect for me at all? Was she serious? I knew the answer almost as soon as I asked myself the question. In the meantime, despite all my "suck birth control" efforts, my daughter got pregnant by Vick about two months later. "You probably just got a little lax dear, that's all. But look at the bright side, you're going to have your first grandchild." My wife said smiling as she consoled me at my sucking failure. You know what they say, when it rains it pours. Two months later, my sister decided she wanted a baby by Vick. A month later, my wife announced she was pregnant by Vick too. The above events were some months ago. In addition to him being the father of my grandchild, I'm the proud "legal" father of Vick's son and the uncle of his daughter by my sister. THE END Comments or future story ideas: Contact C.D.E.at [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c November 2000 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(Cuckold, M+/F, MM, Impreg, Humor) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE AUTHOR'S NOTE: Mother Debbie's Internet Column is a new, and hopefully, continuing series I've created primarily to accomplish: (1) To develop many of the great ideas from readers that I may have a problem composing a complete story around; and (2) To provide a means for characters from my previously published stories to give a status about their situations, as they write to Mother Debbie for advice or just to tell her about more recent events in their lives. This second reason also provides me with a easy and yet efficient means of adding reader's ideas to an existing story without drafting a sequel. I find writing sequels difficult, especially in maintaining the original level of erotic excitement and wry logic. I hope readers will find what folks tell Mother Debbie, and her advice to them in return, interesting. ABSTRACT: Mother Debbie, Internet Columnist, provides her brand of motherly advice and commentary to wimpy males. Story Title: Dear Mother Debbie - Vol. 1 Author: C.D.E. INTRODUCTION: Hello, out there in Internet Land. This is Mother Debbie. In my little corner of the World Wide Web, I'm your sounding board, advisor and in general, I provide motherly advice to those mothers' sons who are in the less endowed crowd. You know who you are. You're not jocks. You have a small prick. You are not very sexually experienced. You are mild mannered. You have an unassuming personality. You are trusting, altruistic, optimistic and always looking for the good, rather than the worse in people, especially in the women in your life. You may've been labeled as a wimp, sissy, or mama's boy by your family, friends and others. You may the ones who've been taken advantage of, even if it was done with love, by your girlfriends, fiancees, wives, and sometimes by your own mothers, sisters, aunts, or other relatives. You may have been lovingly coerced into accepting a very subordinate or cuckold role in a relationship with the woman you love. If the above characterizes your situation, write and tell me all about it. Maybe my advice can help you make a decision, or offer you solace for a decision you've already made, or that was made for you. I got started on my crusade to be an advisor and counselor to wimps, mama's boys, pantywaists and cuckolds because of my own son. He looked pathetic as he told me of his situation. That is, his girl had cheated on him and probably was going to leave him, due to his not being able to satisfy her with his minuscule prick. As I worked with him and her to resolve their differences and to develop a new type relationship, I realized that there were probably many others who were in need of my motherly advice in these situations. Incidentally, my son and his girl formed a much closer relationship and are now married, thanks to my intervention. It took some careful negotiating and counseling to get my son to see and accept that being a faithful loving cuckold husband was really the key to him having a solid loving marriage. I have three wonderful grandkids. Even though my son is not the biological father of any of them, he has learned to be very happy being their legal daddy while being an understanding, loving and faithful husband with a promiscuous wife. TODAY'S CASE Today's column is devoted to correspondence between Gerald and I about his Marriage. This is Gerald's Case: Dear Mother Debbie, Thank you for inviting me to write you about my situation after I made contact with you through a friend of your son. I appreciate you taking time to be an advisor on my state of affairs. I don't mind you sharing it with your readers, especially if other can be helped, by you helping me. I appreciate you not using our real names for your column. I've been married for eight years to the girl of my dreams. Her name is Gail. We have three children, with a fourth on the way. When I first met Gail, I couldn't get her to pay me much attention. She is a very beautiful brunette with a 36-24-36 figure. She was always dating the handsome guys in high school. You know, the multiple school letter guys who excelled in all the sports they played. There were five in particular. Each was a big time school jock. They were also rather handsome and muscular as compared to me. She seemed to go from one to the other as being there steady girlfriend. I guess it depended on who was the most popular at the time. Anyway, my efforts to work into this circle with her was rather futile until I happened to mention to mother about my futile efforts in trying to get a date with her. Mother has always been concerned about me meeting and dating the right kind of girl, being that I'm not a very outgoing person. My mother knew Gail's mom and she said she was going to do some intelligence work to find out more about Gail's desires. I was so thrilled mom was helping my efforts. She and Gail's mom soon started talking and had several conversations about us dating. Mom had asked me to leave the room when they were having one such phone conversation. I tried to eavesdrop through the closed door, but to no avail. I later got the idea of lowering my mini tape recorder in a nearby air vent to record the faint sounds of the phone conversation from two rooms away. It worked great. However, what I heard puzzled me since I was only hearing one side of the conversation. "I know what you mean... Uh, huh... and believe me my Gerald would appreciate just doing that since he doesn't... uh, huh... You're so right to be concerned about her having someone who'll really care for her, the person, and not worry about what people... Uh, huh... As a mother, I want what's best for him too and one of those nice girls who doesn't, is not always the best... Uh, huh... Especially for someone like my Gerald... Uh, huh... Experience is important and does help a relationship, especially where one partner is not... Uh, huh... Well good, I'm so glad we can help each other out because we both want what's best for them." Mother surprised me some days later that she and Gail's mom had arranged for us to meet for something called an "after-date date." I was very perplexed at what she meant. It turned out that I was to meet Gail after she's been on her regular dates. These clandestine meetings were designed to help us determine if there was the possibility of us having a relationship that was going anywhere. I thought it strange, but I went along with the idea. I'd do anything to get Gail's attention. With both our moms working on this scheme, whatever it was, I was sure that something good had to come out of it. Our first date was to be on Friday night after Gail would be coming in from her date with the captain of our high school football team. Her mom was to call me when they came in. I was to go over to her house and her mom was to let me in the back door and introduce me to Gail. I got the call at midnight and drove over to Gail's house. I generally never went out that late, but since both our families had agreed to this, I was permitted to do so. When I arrived at Gail's house, her mother received me warmly and instead of showing me to the living room, she ushered me directly to their basement guest bedroom, where Gail was lying sideways on the bed, watching TV. Gail looked beautiful as usual, even though her hairdo appeared a bit mussed up, her general appearance was one of looking a bit disheveled. "Hi Gail!" I said in an enthusiastic tone. "Hi Gerald." She replied back, in a softer tone. She also yawned slightly after doing so. "You kids have fun." Spoke Gail's mother as she departed, closing the door as she left the room. "Look Gerald, I'm doing this just because mom asked me too. You know you and I are worlds apart socially." "I-I know Gail. I-I just wanted to have a chance to talk to you. You're so beautiful. I'm always thinking about you." I blurted out as I stammered my words. "Okay. Well what do you propose we do on this after-date date?" "I-I just thought we could talk about things and..." "Gerald, Look! I've just come in from a date where I've been fucked for a straight hour. I really am not in the mood for chitchat. My pussy has been well dicked and is still wet and leaking." "What?" I blurted out. "Put two and two together stupid. You wanted to see me, right? What self-respecting guy would agree to see a girl after she's come in from being with another guy? Everyone, including my mom and your mom knows I'd be coming home with a used, semen coated cunt. They knew I wasn't going to give up any to you, er... Hmmmm, unless they mean for you to eat some creamy coochee. Maybe that's the real reason our moms got us together." "Coochee? Creamy?" I blurted out with a questioning tone in my voice. Before she could finish what she meant, I'd deduced what was implied by the words she'd spoken. I was so caught off guard by her revelation and this turn of events, that I had to sit down. It was now apparent to her I'd walked into this situation blindly. "Look Gerald, have you ever eaten pussy before?" "N-No." I replied sheepishly as my face burned a bright red. "So, you have a virgin tongue? How interesting? Well we can solve that in a flash and we both can benefit from this after-date date." Before I knew it, Gail was pulling off her clothes. As I stood there stunned she was before me totally nude. It was like being before Venus. The only difference was that there were obvious red handprints all over her 36C tits and upper torso, including small reddish hickeys on her neck and in her cleavage space. There was also a distinct odor about her that exuded an erotic, strong feminine fragrance. After a few whiffs and before my nose adapted to it, it was obvious it was the residual fuggy after aroma of her having had sex. The strange aroma was basically emanating from her trimmed, but slightly messy, black hairy triangular bush. She'd closed the distance between us and was now only about six inches in front of me as she raised her leg and placed it on edge of the chair I was sitting in. The low chair caused me to look almost straight into her snatch. I'd never been this close to a pussy before, but it was apparent she'd been fucked. The odor of sex was now stronger, even if erotic. On closer inspection her gaping cunt lips were reddish and there was a definite wetness in her crotch and along her very shapely upper inner thighs. "Well Gerald, how does my pussy look? Mom told me your mom said you're virgin. So you're a double virgin. Well look, we can solve part of that. All you have to do is soothe my cunt with your mouth. I want you to know I don't often give up my pussy up this soon on my first date, but the idea of your virgin tongue in me has got me heating up. You aren't going to let a lady suffer due to a lack of sexual attention are you? C'mon Gerald, put your tongue to work. I'll show you how I need you to lick and suck." Speechless, awed, cowed, confused, sexually intimidated, and perspiring profusely, I let Gail remove my glasses and pull my face to her slimy, well trimmed, but disarrayed bushy crotch. As I returned home about two hours after arriving at her house, Gail had labeled me a promising cunt sucker, after I'd tongued, lapped and in general, sucked her to three rousing orgasms. She let me know that she'd never been so turned on. It made me feel super to have the girl of my dreams tell me I'd pleased her so well, even if I had to extract another guy's fresh jism from her luscious gash in the process. I reveled in the fact that I'd finally done something so super and awesome. I really felt that I'd achieved some sort of ritualistic passage of rite of manhood. The taste of her warm syrupy wet and pink muff meat was far better than it looked. However, I quickly got over the fact that it tasted so much better than her pussy's nasty looking messy appearance. Even though it was about 2:30 AM, when I reached home, mother heard me come in and came down to talk to me. I recounted the evening for her. She too was very pleased at what I'd accomplished and done. "Gerald, a woman knows she can always find a man that'll want to put it in and fuck her. But a woman knows she really has a gem if she finds a man that delights in sucking her pussy, and even more so if he doesn't mind doing her after another man has fucked her. If you imprint the good feeling from your tongue on the girl you want, you won't have to worry about losing her to another guy." These were mother's words to me. Being so desirous of Gail, It was good to hear I at least had an option or strategy to think about in trying to win her over, even if it was only being able to lick her up after she'd been fucked by other guys. Our clandestine relationship went on through the remainder of senior high and for the whole time I was in college. It was very embarrassing to me to see many of the guys in senior high and at the college and know I was eating their spent jism from Gail's pussy. However, the secret nature of my relationship with a girl as beautiful as Gail tended to counteract my embarrassment and was a definite boost to my ego. That is, knowing that I could make her feel very good, even if only with my mouth. I definitely appreciated her secrecy in the matter also. I intentionally went to a local college to be near my Gail. Over the four years, I'm sure I tongued out many quarts of other men's spent sperm. My only reward was being able to be intimate with Gail in this oral manner even if my reward was blue balls, and then having to jack off for relief. Gail had let me know that she'd expected me to be faithful to her, in this unusual and secretive relationship we had. It went without saying she wasn't going to be faithful to me. She let me know that she'd cut me lose if she heard of me dating or going out with anyone else. Hence, I didn't. She considered us as having a serious and significant relationship in which I was her dedicated pussy licker. She definitely said no to us having intercourse until we got married, if the relationship went that far. "Gerald, if this relationship endures, and we get married, I will only marry you if you to come to bed on our wedding night a virgin. It would mean so much to me. Anything else is unacceptable." Gail was very serious as she spoke and this was one issue on which she was non- negotiable. Therefore, I agreed to remain a virgin and she made me promise to continue pulling my peter for relief. In the meanwhile, even though Gail refused to help me masturbate, she encouraged it and often had me do it in her presence. She always had this funny Mona Lisa type smile as she watched and urged me on as I pulled and beat my meat. I was a bit put off by her occasional comments about how small my prick was, but she also made up for that by saying that cock size was not an issue, since we meant so much to each other. Mother not only knew about me jacking off for her, but also encouraged me to masturbate. Sometimes, as a treat, mom would let me suck her tits, and pussy on occasion, and jerk me off with her soft delicate hands, and a few times with her feet. All the while she, and Gail's mom too, encouraged me to keep the torch burning for Gail, as well as to remain virginal. Gail wasn't the college type and held various low wage jobs. However, she became more promiscuous after high school and eagerly told me about her various wanton sexual exploits as I dutifully continued licking and sucking her delectable creamy cunt meat. I tried to dissuade her from telling me about her many and varied sexual encounters, but it was to no avail. She did so anyway. It became apparent she thoroughly enjoyed not only giving me a blow by low account, but also literally rubbing the results in my face. Over time, she and I became emotionally closer in our relationship and became steadies and committed ourselves to each other. However, she still wanted to have platonic dates, as she called them, with other guys, since I still had college work to take care of. I was hopelessly in love with her and hoped she'd change her ways after truly knowing my love for her was deep and real. She told me that she thought I loved her with a true love, however, she wanted more proof. She wanted me to take a sworn oat on a bible, and no less in front of both our moms, that I would remain faithful and keep myself a virgin until our wedding night. I was very reluctant to take such an oath, but both our moms reminded me of all the time we both had invested in the relationship. Gail also said that she'd be heartbroken if I gave up on our unique relationship. "Gerald, you want to break my heart, don't you? You're being cruel. You know how much I'm going to miss the thrill of having you suck out the wild oats other guys have sown in my hot cunt. Please Gerald, prove to me that you truly love me. Don't hurt me darling. Promise me you'll continue to eat wild cream of oats from my pussy as you jerk off and wait until it's your time to plow my muff." Gail spoke in a serious tone. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I wondered if she knew how the words she spoke sounded. However, the intent, not the contents, of her words had an effect on me. I knew what she meant. Even if what I'd been doing was utterly humiliating to me, it had endeared me to her and she'd be heartbroken if I stopped. After some thought, I capitulated and took the oath. I became her betrothed. To show that she was serious about her love for me, she also swore to me that I would be the only man that she'd let suck her pussy after it was fucked. Even though her dates with her many men friends were suppose to be platonic ones, Gail always came in from them with a sperm soaked pussy. In spite of this, I still believed she loved me. I know I loved her deeply, even though I didn't like what she was doing with other men. She continued to explicitly recount her various sexual experiences and always described and raved about the larger dicks of the man or men who'd fucked her, while I slurped up the frothy jism that they'd deeply deposited in her. However, I hoped that our love for each other would eventually wean her away from her other guys and make her truly and totally mine. My mother and Gail's mom constantly reminded me of my sworn pledge to be faithful and remain a virgin for Gail until we wed. Despite my pledge, I still tried to get Gail to either move the wedding date up or let me put it in. You see, I was eating an awful lot of used sloppy pussy made that way by other men. Not being able to get some in the same manner so many others were, was really bothering me. "Gerald, you must not be impatient. Gail will let you know when she thinks it the right time to get married." Mother said. These words were also a recurring comment from Gail's mom also. We finally got married, but there was a condition that my new bride insisted upon. I was not to put my prick in her cunt until our fifth wedding anniversary. She was non- negotiable on this. To say I was truly and utterly devastated was an understatement. However, I was eventually browbeaten into accepting her conditions and had to make a promise to her on the matter. "After all dear, you've invested too much time into this relationship to let it go away because of such a trivial thing. Five years will go by before you know it." I didn't like mother's words and advice, but I heeded by them, even though she was correct about all the time and pussy sucking I'd already invested in this relationship and yet was still a virgin. For the first five years of marriage, I was not permitted direct entry into her cunt with my prick. Of course, my tongue was a routine visitor in her tasty juicy coochee. To make matters worse, my new wife had three babies during the five years - all from different men. She was even two months pregnant when we stood at the altar to say our wedding vows. On our wedding night, I ate the best man's cum out of her pussy and didn't find out until seven months later he was the father of our first born. His name was Earl, one of my very close friends. On our honeymoon, Gail gave herself to several strangers and it seems I ate strange semen out of her cunt every night for 10 days. Her reason for being promiscuous with strangers, she had a need for dick and she didn't want to be the cause of me breaking my promise to not put it in until after five years. I looked at her strangely as she told me her strange reason. However senseless her reason to me, she still held steadfast to me not putting it in until our fifth anniversary. I was so peeved, not to mention humiliated and disgraced beyond belief. However, I capitulated to her demand because I loved her. She told me if I loved her I would do this for her. I guess that's what love is all about, being unselfish and doing things for the one you love even though you suffer. It was especially terrible when she began to swell during pregnancy. Many men had her during this time, while all I could do was eat up the results of their fuck sessions and wait for my turn - in five years - to get some of my wife's seemingly public pussy. I looked so longingly toward our fifth wedding anniversary to be able to have my wife wet and raw, skin to skin. However, when my time came, she again surprised me on the night of our fifth anniversary. "Gerald honey, our marriage has been so good so far. We haven't had any problems with you being inattentive or taking me for granite, but I'm really afraid that if I let you have me the way you want me now, we may not make it to ten years. They say a good marriage has a much better chance of surviving if the couple makes their tenth anniversary and there's still a lot of spark in their relationship. I guess what I'm trying to say darling, If I let you have me the way your friends and the other guys do me, you'll lose interest in me. You won't find me intriguing anymore." I assure her I would and that there would no part of me taking her for granite or me showing any complacency in regard to her relationship with me. Here it was on the night of our fifth anniversary and I was still trying to convince my wife to let me put it in. She was wearing me down in my discussion with her on this matter. She threatened to call our mothers in to mediate our discussion. I knew I'd better compromise with the best deal I could. You see, I think highly of my mom and mother- in-law. However, for some reason they seem to favor Gail's side in any previous discussion we've had when it comes to our intimate marriage issues that they find out about. I was suspicious that this situation would go the same way if I didn't find some way to negotiate a compromise on my own. It took a bit of doing, even though she was reluctant, I got my wife to agree to let me put it in at least once a month wearing a rubber. I was so proud of my negotiating skills. And believe me, I was happy to be able to put it in, even with a condom on as compared to waiting another five years. After our discussion/negotiation, which was sometimes heated, we kissed and reconciled. Being in her arms even after such a brief disagreement was rewarding. I knew I loved this woman even if I was paying such a high price in regard to my manly pride. Back to the first time she got pregnant by one of her Platonic dates, she said it wan an accident and that pills weren't fool proof. She was right. She showed me the fine print on her birth control pills box and it said there was one chance in several hundred thousands that it could happen. Well I gave up and accepted that the law of statistics was not on my side. Also, she blamed me for not sucking all of Earl's semen out of her. The other times she got pregnant, she did admit that her lovers simply told her to get off the pill and to have a baby for them to prove she had some sort of emotional attachment to them since she was already married to me and couldn't prove her love by marrying them. She also said that one of her lovers repeatedly indicated if I really and truly loved her, I wouldn't quibble over her having his baby. Hence, she could prove her emotional attachment to him and have me prove how deep my love was for her at the same time. "Gerald, I thought about what he said and it did make sense that if you loved me, you wouldn't abandon me but accept me with his child in me and love me the same. For you to do otherwise meant you weren't serious in your love for me." No matter what I said to disprove her logic, she continued to be unfaithful and did get pregnant with the child of her handsome lover. My only influence was to try and be as an effective oral contraceptive I could, while the conception efforts were on going between he and her. I failed three times in preventing her from becoming pregnant. It seems that other men who inseminated her used the same illogic rationale for doing so. Well anyway, I did prove them right in one way, I didn't forsake my wife. I proved my deep love. I accepted her as well as the babies they'd put in her too. I worry a great deal that she'll bring home yet another baby as a result of her so called platonic dating or being required to prove her "emotional attachment to her lovers" rationale. Speaking of kids, She often likes for me to baby-sit our kids when she goes out on her platonic dates with her many men friends. I generally do, since I don't really dance too well or like crowds and loud music or noisy places. "I'd feel better if it's you watching them. Plus it'll help you bond better with the kids darling." She frequently tells me. Please, Mother Debbie, tell me what I can do to turn my marriage around and get my wife to see that it's time she focus more on being my wife totally, versus being the woman of other men too. The thing that really hurts me now is that since she and I attended a company Christmas party last year, she's having platonic dates with several of my co-workers. Please help me explain to her that her platonic dates are just a sham and that there is no such thing since she's having sex repeatedly on all these dates. Thank you for listening to my tale of woe. I'm sure I've left out some details and made things sound a bit confusing, but I've tried to cover all the important parts of my situation and experiences of me and the woman I love so dearly. I thank you in advance for any advice that can help me get my wife on the road to being faithful to me. Yours truly, Gerald MOTHER DEBBIE'S REPLY: Gerald, first of all, thank you for writing and sharing your situation with me, and now my readers. Gerald, I hate to tell you this, but a platonic date doesn't preclude the possibility that your wife and her man friend won't have sex. It occurs due to the natural sexual tension between a man and a woman. So you can rest easy about that occurring. It can. There is nothing you can do about it, so don't worry. The best thing you can do is always be ready to give your lovely wife some good and enthusiastic mouth loving time she comes in the door from those dates. If her cunt is reddish, smells a bit gamy, and appears to have been fucked and is coated with or oozing sperm, don't get excited, take it as a normal event. All you have to do is lick her and suck it all out. Don't even mention that she appears to have had intercourse unless she brings up the subject. Your wife may be too embarrassed to admit that she's too weak to resist a big hard dick. Hey, it happens Gerald. Take it in stride just as you've done for the last few years. Your moms, that is yours and your wife's moms have advised you correctly. As long as you keep lapping her pussy whenever she wants you to, and you keep stroking your prick whenever you need to, from all you've told me, I can't see where your marriage is in any jeopardy of breaking up. And Gerald, as you know any marriage has enough stresses in them anyway, don't add to your wife's stress if she hasn't made a decision to let you put it in yet, unencumbered. You did well by the way in your negotiations. If she's pleased with your tongue, be satisfied. When she's ready she'll let you know when she think it's time to let you have it wet, and skin to skin. Many women have this thing about holding back something from their husbands so that they won't take them for granite. Such little held-back joys keep complacency from creeping in the marriage. When complacency creeps in, you start to have marital problems of a most serious kind, which leads to the extinguishing of the spark in your marriage. Her having not let you have intercourse with her in your marriage five years is such a way of keeping the marriage intriguing for you. Gerald, just remember, her pussy must be worth waiting for, since so many men have been in it. And Gerald, as far as your worry about her coming home pregnant again and bringing home another baby from another man, hey Gerald, it happens! Live with it. Just be a good daddy like you've been all along. If your wife is happy with the babies she brings home and apparently both your moms are too, then why should you be the only one complaining? Kids add joy and warmth and excitement to a household, no matter if they're yours biologically or not. They are part of your wife and as they grow up with the love of you two, you'll never know the difference that you didn't sire them and don't worry about them not looking anything like you. Also, don't kick the baby-sitting thing, believe me you're saving money by doing it yourself. And lastly Gerald, don't worry about your wife being faithful. That's an option for her, but not for you. You concentrate on being faithful. Remember, you're the one with the little prick. In lieu of being concerned about her being faithful, you should be thankful she is loyal to you. A woman that married you when she was pregnant with another man's child, has to be unfailing in her love for you. If that's not loyalty, I don't know what is. Gerald, as you implied in your letter, not being selfish is what love is all about. It's obvious she needs men who're better endowed than yourself and you would be less than a good husband if you didn't ensure she gets what she needs. As one philosopher put it, true love means not being concerned about your own selfish pleasures but those selfish pleasures of the one loved. Sincerely, Mother Debbie GERALD'S REPLY BACK TO MOTHER DEBBIE Dear Mother Debbie, Thanks so much for all your advice and counsel. At least I've confirmed from you, a recognized expert in the field, what my wife and our moms have been saying. That does make me feel better. My conscience does feel clearer about many things, especially about my wife's platonic dates with some of my friends, co-workers and her many men co-workers at her job. Anyway, you're right, I'm saving quite a bundle on baby sitting costs by staying home with the kids myself. Also, in reference to the issue of wanting her to be faithful, I guess you're right, loyalty is what I should be thankful to her for. You're right, she always come back to me, no matter whether it's with a wet drippy semen filled cunt or one that's both messy and knocked up. Additionally, I also have come to see what you mean about my wife having other men's jism in her cunt when she comes in from her platonic dates. If they weren't envious of her beauty and her being my wife they wouldn't be easily tempted to give into their natural sexual desires and be as willing to put their cocks in her. You are so perceptive and astute. Another thing that happened in this regard, one of my close high school buddies, who's been on several platonic dates with her, came by the house to visit us. He's also the biological father of our first born. My wife and he got trapped by those natural overwhelming sexual tensions several times, and hence, our oldest daughter was the result. Well anyway, his name is Earl. He complimented me on what a good daddy I was to the kids as well as being a good husband and trusting enough to not only let my wife go out with him from time to time, but to let him pick her up in the middle of the night when he felt like talking to her. You see several times over the last few years, he's called in the wee hours of the night and asked for Gail. He would come over to the house and they'd go in the basement guest bedroom and talk. Gail would just tell me to go back to sleep while she and Earl talked. He said he just couldn't sleep and she'd be a good ear for him. You're right mother Debbie about just general talk resulting in platonic sex. Many times after these after midnight talks they had, Gail would come back to bed dripping with Earl's thick jism and want me to suck her cunt. Well as Earl and I were talking about how good hearted my wife was to him and several of my other friends and their friends too, he got an erection. It was rather embarrassing for him since his member is rather large. It's much, much larger than mine, I might add. "Gerald", he said. "I have a favor I've never asked of you before and I hope you don't take it the wrong way." "Oh no, Earl, we've been friends too long for a mis- communications problem." I replied. "Good. I want you to know, that Gail told me you've tasted my cum in her pussy several times. You know from us not being able to control ourselves when alone." "S-She did let me know that s-she slipped and mentioned it." I replied blushing a deep red. After all, it's not everyday you admit to one of your close friends you've eaten his jism from your wife's cunt several times. "Well that helps a bit, in fact a lot for what I want to ask you next." "Sure earl, what could it be?" I replied inquisitively. "Gerald, my dick is hard, and I know that if I don't get some relief soon, I know as soon as I get around your wife, both her and my tensions are going to go right through he roof again and I'll be putting my prick back into her pussy again as soon as I can. Therefore Gerald old buddy, I'd like for you to help me not do that. I need your help. I need for you to suck my dick for me. No, actually it's for you and your wife, not so much for me." He said. I looked at him strangely, but as he talked on his rationale made so much sense it was scary. He finally won me over and we went in the house and I sucked him off as a preventive precaution against my wife and he giving in to their natural sexual tensions. So now I have a possible technique to prevent my friends and others from falling in the trap of giving in to their and my wife's natural sexual tensions. What do you think about this Mother Debbie? Yours truly, Gerald MOTHER DEBBIE'S REPLY I'm so thrilled at your innovation and initiative. I want you to know I wholeheartedly agree and applaud what you did and encourage you to continue to suck the dicks of the other men who inadvertently fuck your wife on those platonic dates, as a result of them losing control. That is, if they give you the opportunity. You should even contact them and offer your services to them should they feel that they will be weak again when going with your wife and feel they can't resist the temptation. Gerald, you have to look at every such event as this when you interact with your wife's men as a beneficial learning experience. Just think if you hadn't had the opportunity to suck his dick, you'd never had known just how much better he was at putting his sperm in your wife than you'd ever be. However, you must understand this will probably not totally eliminate sex between your wife and the men she dates Platonically, but it will possibly reduce the number of times it happens. Sincerely, Mother Debbie GERALD'S REPLY BACK TO MOTHER DEBBIE You were so right about the new tool I had to combat the natural sexual tension between my wife and her men friends. The guy who originally asked to put his cock in my mouth, he has dutifully come by weekly, since that first time, for me to provide him oral relief to abate his temptation to have sex with my wife. However, it hasn't totally eliminated his temptation. Over the last four months he's still fucked her several time and she is now pregnant again by him. So as you can see, and he admits it too, he's going to have to try harder to resist my wife's natural cock attracting beauty. Mother Debbie, you were right about what you said about me finding out first hand how much better equipped Earl and my wife's other studs are than me. I'm telling you, the ejaculatory force of these guys is so powerful, not to mention the quantity of jism they pump out. I was surprised about it, but have learned to deal with the large volume of their hot semen that comes gushing out with each spurt as the men erupt between my lips. I have to swallow rather large gulps with each gushing pulsation. The other thing is the length of time it takes to suck them off, they really do last much longer than I know I could. Another thing, many of the guys come at least twice each time I suck their dicks. Oh well, as you've said before, it's all a beneficial learning experience for me and I should be thankful for the opportunity. Thank you so much for all your advice Mother Debbie. I'll be writing you from time to time to keep in touch. Thanks again. Yours truly, Gerald MOTHER DEBBIE'S CLOSING REMARKS Well my friends in Internet Land, Gerald's case just goes to illustrate that keeping a marriage vibrant is still a matter of give and receive. His lovely wife has given him so much. Three beautiful babies, and another on the way - all from other men; exclusive privilege for him to suck her well fucked, in demand, juicy twat; and of course many opportunities for him to prove his love and faithfulness, first as a boyfriend, then fiance, and later as her husband; all of this despite his sexual inadequacies. Gerald should be proud, as well as commended for his devotion as a daddy to other men's kids his wife has had during their marriage, as well as doing the right things as a husband to keep his wife happy and the marriage vibrant. Be on the watch for my next column with advice that's relevant! Mother Debbie ###END### Cmts? C.D.E. at [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c December 2002 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved. This story may not be reproduced in any form or sold for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(Cuckold, M+/F, MM, Impreg, FemDom, MDom) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE MERRY XMAS 2002 TO ALL AND TO ALL A HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!! TITLE: Is It You or Her? Author: C.D.E. ABSTRACT: A husband has to contend with the antics, attitudes, and adultery of his wife, who supposedly has a split personality. CAST: Earl-Husband Eva - Wife "Eva, isn't there something you want to tell me?" "I bet you want to talk about my pussy, don't you?" "Well, Eva, it's been pretty hard for me to not notice how messy and gamy and gapping it has been for the last few weeks when you've come in late. Is it that new guy at work, Eddie? The one that's called here a few time and left messages, as well as picked you up a few times." "Yes he's the one. Isn't he handsome?" "That's beside the point Eva. Remember, we're married. You're not supposed to be committing adultery like this. Or am I talking to the other Eva?" "You're talking to the naughty Eva now sweetie. And yes, you're right honey, but it sure feels so good being adulterous and doing it with a big dick stud. Since you're speaking of my pussy, as usual, you really do suck me good, just as you've done before when I've gotten control away from the nice Eva and change into being Eva the slut. I was hoping you'd not say anything until my craving to fuck another man had run its course." "Not you again!" "It's me now honey, the naughty Eva has gone away for now. Yes, she made me do it." "I guess I should've known. Anyway Eva, I've been patient for 10 weeks, I decided we've got to talk about this." Earl, her husband, spoke with an edge in his voice. "There you go getting upset again, just because the naughty Eva been feeding you a little cum from another man's dick." "A little? Eva some nights you're really loaded. It's hard to believe that one man could shoot off that much stuff in a single session of intercourse. Oh what's wrong with me? Okay, which Eva am I talking to now?" "This is still the nice Eva dear. Your darling loving wife. But I can answer for my other naughty side. Believe it darling, he's quite a stud. He often gets off 4 or 5 times each time we have a fuck session." "F-Four o-or five? Oh well, forget I said that. Another thing Eva, I don't know why you, or your other split personality, keeps all his stuff trapped in you until you come home and mount my face. I really wish you or her would stop using pussy plugs whenever you feel the craving to cheat. I almost drowned one night in the slimy deluge than streamed on my face as you straddled my head." "That was Wednesday night. I remember it well. We did four guys that night. You're right, our cunt was drenched and quite full. The naughty Eva started out the night, but it was me that finished it up, Earl darling. I had no choice. When the naughty Eva turned things back over to me, I found myself under the fourth man and he was boning me like there was no tomorrow. He was hung and knew how to use his equipment. He really flooded me. However, back to what you were talking about. Yes, we both, that is both Eva's in me have come to agreement. You see, we use plugs for two reasons. The first is that all the men the naughty Eva causes me to get blamed for cheating with have long cocks and when they shoot off, it's deep in the bottom of our cunt. So it would take a while for all their abundant stuff to leak out anyway. So we use the plugs to keep from leaking as one of us is getting ready to come home to you after I've been fucked. Secondly, it's really more fun sharing the delight of these fuck sessions with you in this way. That is, by having you suck the fuck juices out of me. That's so much better than to just let it run out uselessly. It's such a warm joyful feeling for both of us to feel another man manly load oozing out and hearing you noisily sucking and slurping it up. I know the other Eva likes rubbing her fucked cunt in your face to shame you. But for me, I just love riding your face when my cunt is full of another man's cum. It shows me you really love me and I see myself as helping you show your love for me - well us." "Eva, I really wish sometimes I wasn't so understanding. It was bad enough you, well, you and her, tricked me for almost two years while we were dating and engaged, and conditioned me to enjoy sucking your gooey gapping drippy cunt. It really hurt to find out you'd been having sex with several men. At the same time, you denied me from putting it in and all the while fooling me into eating their gloppy stuff out of your pussy." "Earl, by doing so, the naughty Eva proved you were a virgin. You didn't know what a fucked cunt looked or tasted like, so that was proof positive to me that you were what you said you were. I applauded her for that. However, the warm feeling she and I both got from having all that slimy fuck goo being sucked out of my messy oozing pussy was so ecstatic, I couldn't bring myself to stop doing it. Plus, Earl, you were so proud of getting me off with your mouth. I could see it in your eyes, even through much of your face was smeared with the slimy wetness of my well- fucked and well-sucked cunt." "W-Well, I-I was, especially since y-you wouldn't let me p-put it in, I-I felt I had to do something to please you. After all, I do love you Eva." "You're so sweet Earl. I knew you were just the husband for me." "Speaking of being a husband, let's get back to the what started this conversation. Eva, I know Dr. Easton has stressed that we should always try not to be emotional about these times when the other Eva takes control and causes you to forget you're married and commit adultery. You know slip into your other self, or personality. And I think I have abided by his edit on that matter. However, I believe you do get rather emotional, that's why I waited as long as I did before I mentioned it to you - that is, about all that jism in your pussy and your feeding it to me these last few weeks. "Earl, you're determined to bring those times up again and again aren't you? Won't you ever let me forget about what the other Eva did then?" "Eva, I accepted your apology each time it happened, okay? What I'm trying to do is for us to talk through these issues instead of you possibly reverting back to her and resorting to physical action and doing something that'll you be sorry for again. Like you did the last eight times you've whipped or beat on me." "I know I was wrong each time I beat on you dear, but at the same time, each time you threatened to stop sucking my pussy or called me a slut or something like that or acted like I was a slut. It was the other Eva and you were treating me like it was her. I admit it's a little difficult for you to know which of us is in control at any given time, but earl darling, you have to consider my feelings. After all, I'm the good Eva, your loving wife that only wants the best for us." "Eva, I admit I did those things, and I suffered under your, a combination of both of your personality's hands, dearly for doing so. You just don't know your strength. You've got at least 20 pounds on me and you're 4 inches taller too. I also guess it also matters that you had a lot of Judo training too." "Nevertheless Earl, we both made mistakes, all three of us. I actually joined the other Eva in whipping you several times because I felt you were not sensitive enough about my feelings. That is, in regard to your pledge to suck my pussy no matter which of my states of mind is in charge. We both like you cleaning other men's cum out of our common pussy. I want to be treated with respect no matter how many times the naughty cravings of my other self consumes me. Dr. Easton was right about us respecting each other. As long as you respect me and my other personality's need to have other men fuck us, and then have you suck out our common, semen soaked pussy, it really helps us control our emotional outbursts. My part in whipping you was done because I didn't feel respected as a woman who had a problem. A problem that should be respected by her husband. The other Eva did it to show you she was in charge and to humiliate you as a man." "Yes Eva, Dr. Easton was emphatic about me understanding that it was not a wanton willful thing you were doing to me. I guess sometimes it's been hard to remember that, so like he said, maybe your whipping me was a helpful way of reminding me your committing adultery was not of your own doing." "I think it also was a way of keeping you faithful too, while we four - that is, myself and I, you and Dr. Easton - work on this problem my other self has of cheating on you and feeding you the outcome on my doing so." "Not to mention raising them too." "Oh Earl darling, I can't tell you how much more in love I am with you with each baby I've had by other men, due to Eva the slut, and brought home for you to be the daddy of. You're so wonderful with our 3 kids." "I-I try to be a good daddy for them." "And you are sweetie, just like you're a good sucker of a spouse to both of us too." "Somehow, Eva, I don't think that came out the way you meant it." "Well one thing I know Earl, it's so good that you're acclimated to and don't find the taste of our common fucked pussy unpleasant. That, along with your understanding nature and your honoring your vows. That is, the "better or worse" part. These things have kept me your wife. Otherwise, I don't think I could've stayed with a husband who was a macho asshole. I don't need a husband who is insecure with his manhood, so as to want to break up a marriage because of a recurring problem of adultery by his wife. Or for that matter, the fact that he frequently has to eat another man's semen from his wife's cunt. No Earl, you're an outstanding husband." "Eva, you know I've tried, even though it's been difficult. Especially, the many times when you've not been in the mood to let me have some after I've sucked you out and gotten you off with my tongue and mouth." "It's that often I'm so tired after a good fuck session due to Eva the slut, by the other Eva's stud or studs, and an excellent suck session by you. We're only human darling, our common pussy can only take so much. Besides, didn't Dr. Easton say that beating your meat was good for a husband like you who have small dicks, you know, as a way of controlling premature ejaculation and strengthening the penis muscles?" "Uh, y-yes he did, b-but don't you think letting me have some 3 or 4 times a year is a bit too long to go without some Eva. Especially, when it seems your other men are doing you several times a week?" "Okay, you drive a hard bargain Earl darling, how about, Hmmmm, every two months?" "Oh thank you Eva, thank you." "You're welcome dear. I'll try to make the other Eva understand that too. Even though she may humiliate you from time to time, she loves you and thinks you are deserving of some of our good pussy, even though you don't have the equipment in your pants to work on it as good as our other men." "Y-Yes please do make her understand. And o-okay you've made your point. I know now, my prick is not in the same league as what you're accustomed to having slipped into the both of you. I-I guess I should think both of you for being so-so considerate of me." "You're welcome darling." "I-I guess, now that it's out in the open that you're having an affair with Eddie, by Dr. Easton's rule, it's not cheating anymore, it's just plain adultery, and I guess I have to accept that the solution is that we continue to talk about it, a-and work through it. That is discussing why you should not be doing that. Right?" "Correct, and of course, the other Eva will continue to fuck him while we talk through this, and of course you'll continue to suck our filled pussy also, right?" "Yes, yes, of course dear. Like Dr. Easton said, if you hadn't conditioned me into becoming acclimated to the taste of jism and pussy juice, this approach would be difficult for me to handle." "I'm so glad this has all worked out so well for us Earl. Oh, by the way, I almost forgot. Eddie has asked the other Eva to go on a cruise with him week after next. I'll talk to mother about helping you out with the kids while the three of us are away." "A-A cruise? H-How long will you be gone?" "It'll be four days on the ship as we sail around the Caribbean. Then a day each on the front, and tale ends of the cruise. Count on me being gone about a week. Okay?" "A-A whole week?" "Earl darling, I've been away at least that long before. What's the problem?" "When you're gone away, you know what can happen when some of the other Eva's studs coming by looking for Eva the slut, a-and you're not here." "Oh that, I thought you were over that by now." "Eva, I know you and Dr. Easton have gone over this with me many times, but it's sort of a principle of the matter with me having them drop by here unannounced in the first place, even when you're here. Dr. Easton calling those old cases of adultery and for me to ignore those, because those aren't surprises to me, is something I don't understand." "That's why he's the Doctor and we pay him so much to help us out with our marital situation. And he has done a marvelous job if I say so myself." "If-If you say so dear." "I do Earl, I do. Earl, the guys respect you as a cool husband when they come by to get some from your wife, who by the way, who is not really the Eva they know. So if they come by when I'm not here, just tell them when you expect me back. They can wait to see the other Eva." "You know that's easier said then done. You know what disrespect and abject humiliation they've put me through in the past when you're weren't available before." "Oh that. It's not a frequent thing, I don't know why you complain every time that happens. I thought by now you would've become accustomed to sucking a few dicks when they needed sucking off. It's not like you were a fag out trying to find dicks to suck. It's really more of a mercy suck on your part, right?" "T-They might say so, but I don't." "Earl, look upon as them being the innocent victims of my split personality malady. If the other Eva hadn't come on to them, they wouldn't have been after me. Therefore I am at fault because of my sickness, that is of craving to be fucked by big hard dicks. So once they get a taste of me, it's hard for them to turn it of. So they are victims too Earl. Therefore, if I'm a victim and they are victims, therefore you should want to help them too, since they are victims too." "Y-You make it sound so-so justified. Besides, it's not like they take no from me for an answer when they want to put their big dicks in my mouth. They get belligerent and want to create a scene when I refuse them, not to mention threatening me with physical harm." "You've done the right thing in the past. That is, of being a cocksucker for them. It can't be the taste of their stuff you're upset about, not as many quarts, or maybe gallons, of jism you've sucked out of my cunt - thanks to the other Eva. Anyway Earl darling, you know what they say about a hard throbbing dick not having a conscience. It's the reason they lose control and threaten you. Humiliating you is probably the farthest thing from their mind. Getting off is on their mind. I know the fellows appreciate your sucking mouth as a surrogate pussy. They've told the other Eva so. By the way, they say you're a pretty good cocksucker swallow real well too." "Eva, I-I wish you wouldn't even bring that up when we talk." "Darling, I'm just telling you what the gays have told me. And on a more serious note, Earl dear, I don't want you getting beat up either. You know you're no match for those brawny guys. I don't want you hurt. You are not to resist or refuse them in any way when they push their dicks in your face. Just do as I've told you. Concentrate on licking their dick head slits before engulfing as much of their stiff meaty shaft as you can. Also, and don't forget to fondle their balls, men like that in a good cocksucker. Okay? Promise darling?" "O-Okay, I-I promise Eva." Earl replied softly as he held his head down rather than looking his wife in the eyes. "Good boy. Remember it's for a good cause. Your sucking them off solves their problem and makes them more reasonable and easier to deal with. Can't you tell that they're less threatening after they get off in your mouth?" "W-Well yes, now that you mentioned it. They were. Sometimes a few of them have even stayed afterwards and had a beer and watched the games on TV with me before leaving." "You see darling, if they meant to humiliate you, do you think they would drink your beer and watch games with you? No darling, this is just their way of thinking you for being what they consider a cool liberated husband and being a true partner with your wife. They do respect you Earl, maybe not as they would another real man, but in their own way, they do." "I-I guess I hadn't looked at it that way before. I do remember one of the guys saying something about he didn't think I-I was much of a man, a-and that I-I was a wimp for sucking h-his peter. H-However, he said h-he respected me for doing what it took to keep my pretty wife from leaving me for men with b-bigger dicks. He said you, I mean the other Eva, told him how short m-my prick is. I think his name was Eric. I-I do remember it being easier to talk to chat with him after he said that. I-I haven't seen him a while." "She tells all her lovers about your shortcomings Earl, so don't be surprised at that. About Eric, he's traveling a lot now, but he does fucks the other Eva occasionally. He has a big handsome dick, and doesn't he shoot a lot?" "H-He is well endow..., p-please Eva don't embarrass me further b-by asking me such things. It's bad enough I-I'm even talking with you about one of your, I-I mean the other Eva's lover's cock." "Earl darling, we're married. We should be able to talk about the dicks of men that you've sucked on, especially if they've fucked me, your wife, even if was because of the other Eva. We've done it before, remember?" "I-I know Eva, b-but that doesn't make it any easier on me e-each time we've done so." "Earl darling, how many times do I need to tell you that you're only doing what any good husband would do under the circumstances. Don't be hard on yourself. I'm proud of you for being a cocksucker for such well-endowed, big muscular men. After all, it takes a lot of effort to suck on their big hard dicks and swallow all the hot jism they pump out. I know from first hand experience through the other Eva." "I-I guess I can't disagree with you there Eva. A-And thanks Eva, it's been hard at times, but I've tried to be the best husband I can be for you." "Yes darling you have. I appreciate it to. And I know you'll continue to be a good husband for me. Won't you?" "Of course I will, Eva, my love." "Thank you darling. So therefore Earl, don't be unhappy because you've had to suck dicks before, and maybe will have to suck the dicks of Eva's studs in the future. Just remember, it's for a good cause." "Well, I-I'm not totally happy about any of this. H-However, like you've indicated, it appears to be a necessary thing I have to do. Like Dr. Easton said, If I don't do these things, the naughty Eva could convince you to leave me, a-and that would hurt me badly." "Me too Earl darling, I love you and want to be your wife. I'm so glad you're doing everything possible to accommodate the slut side of me and appease the naughty Eva's desires." "I love you too Eva and I guess I should be thankful that things have worked out as well as they have for us and that the other Eva hasn't taken you completely away from me. Even though I'm not the biological father, we have three beautiful children and I'm always getting compliments about how I kept my vows and how faithful I am to you, despite the other Eva's antics." "Yes Earl, you deserved to be praised for being such a noble husband. And yes, you're a wonderful daddy to the babies of other men, which the other Eva and me have brought home to you. All in all, things are going good for us even though the other Eva tends to cause a bit of mischief here and there for us." "Yes she does. But going back to the other Eva's studs, yes, I'm glad that I didn't get beat up by them. I didn't want to do what they wanted me to do. However, I didn't really have a choice otherwise. And Eva, You've said many times before it doesn't bother you. But I'm sure it's got to make you upset just a little bit that these men just walk in here and make me s-suck their huge c-cocks and swallow all their heavy loads of viscid semen." "Just the opposite Earl darling, you doing that for them again shows me what a wonderful husband you are. Marriage is a partnership. You being there for them is just another way of you helping me, your marriage partner, carry the load, or should I say take their loads. Hee! Hee! Hee!" "Funny! Funny! But seriously Eva, t-they'll listen to you. C-Can't you tell them t-that they shouldn't force me to..." "Earl darling, remember what Dr. Easton said about cocksucking being educational for you? That is of experiencing what it feels like to be a warm wet cunt and being on the receiving end of those spurting seminal hoses." "I-I don't need to be reminded about how bigger, more robust, and sturdier your..., I-I mean the other Eva's other men's cock are compared to me. B-But Eva, that was nine years ago. Since then, I-I've must've had to suck your stud's dicks over a 100 times. I-I don't think there is anything else for me to learn about what dicking prowess they have." "Earl, think of it as a continuing education. Also, didn't Dr. Easton tell you that the more frequent you suck such manly dicks, the less likely that you'll have to get readjusted to having your lips stretched, and being re-acclimated to the volume, expulsion force, and heat of their hot ejaculate? Not to mention the conditioning of your throat and tongue muscles to accommodate rapid swallowing of all the men's virile hot cum." "H-He did, but I-I have my doubts about some of the things he says." "Let's not be negative darling. Either way, I tend to agree with Dr. Easton, I think you being their cocksucker has been beneficial for you and our marriage. After all, there aren't many wives who can have a conversation with their husbands about the taste of their studs' jism, both from the studs' dicks as well as out the wife's cunt." "Well, (Sigh!), it looks like this I'm not getting any sympathy from you on this matter. But another thing is on my mind Eva." "What is it dear?" "Please don't get pregnant, like you've done on all the other cruises you've gone on before." "Earl, you know I never plan on getting pregnant from anyone other than you my husband, but it's my naughty personality that has got herself knocked up three times before. Even though, I have to end up bearing the burden of her misdeed and being a good mother to the baby, and you of course being the doting loving daddy." "Please, if you can, please keep the other Eva, the naughty Eva, from getting knocked up again. Take your pills. Maybe we should get you one of those implant birth controls. That way you don't have to worry about taking daily pills. The birth control is automatic and lasts up to 5 years." "An excellent idea sweetie, but they aren't without serious side effects. No, I'll take my chances with keeping the other Eva from doing that. However, if I fail, I know I can count on you. Besides, Earl, there is more balance in having an even number of children." "Eva, we're just barely got our heads above water now. Another baby will cause me to get a second job. Please, do what you can to "not" get inseminated." "I wish you could be there to be mine, and the other Eva's, tongue birth control." "Ordinarily, I would be offended at doing such, however - Sigh! - under the circumstances, I guess I would volunteer if I could go along with you." "You're a good husband Earl, but Eddie is paying my way and you have to stay home with the kids. Of course Mom will help out while you're at work." "I'm glad of that. She's been very helpful when you've gone away before. The only disagreement she and I get into is about is that she sees the naughty Eva's cruises and escapes as vacations for you to get away at a savings for me. That is, because I'm not paying for them." "I know darling, but one day, I hope you see things her way. It is an opportunity for me to travel and see the world." "I-I just wish it didn't have to be with another man, especially another man who your other personality is having an affair with, and using your body." "I understand your feelings Earl sweetie, but just imagine what I'm going through, since I'm really the one being used here." "I-I see your point Eva. Another thing Eva, I wish there was some way of determining when the other Eva takes you over." "It's an erratic thing." "Oh well, I've suffered though this for the last nine years, and two years before we were married. I guess I'll have to put up with it a bit longer until you can suppress or get rid of the other, naughty Eva personality. I just hope you can do so before you have another baby by another of the other Eva's studs." EVA TALKS TO HER MOM: "Sure, you know I'll be glad to help Earl out with the kids. He's really a good daddy to those kids. I'm sure he'll be that way, no matter how many little bastards you bring him as the naughty Eva. I have to give it to you, you sure pulled the wool over his eyes good with that split personality scam. He's swallowed it all. It's been almost 10 years now and he's not the wiser yet." "Well, mother, it's not totally a scam, I do have these urges to fuck other men. Real men who are able to deliver the meat in bed. I'm just getting Earl some help, and doing it in a way he can, well, I guess the right way to say it, is that forces him to accept it." "Yeah, Dr. Easton has really paid off for you and your marriage. I know you're fucking him." "I sure am, otherwise he wouldn't be giving out such outlandish advise to my sweetie pie Earl. Who, by the way, has followed it all to the letter, with my help of course." "I guess having so many pictures of him sucking your men's dicks doesn't hurt either." "No mother, it doesn't. He thinks the naughty Eva may put them on the Internet if he isn't obedient to both of us. But don't get me wrong, I love Earl dearly and we have a very good marriage." "I know, except it's on your terms. I've heard you say so, many, many times. Well, I have to give it to you Eva, you've made me some pretty grand kids from all those handsome studs you've fucked and got knocked up by." "Earl's mother told me the same thing several times." "I know, she's also mentioned the same to me. You do realize that she knows you're making a fool out of her son, don't you?" "Fool is too harsh of a word mom, cuckold yes, fool no. You see, she and I have had several talks about our marriage. She has also applauded me for the way I've managed her son. She and I are in harmony in our thoughts about Earl. You see, she realizes that Earl would be a disappointment in trying to be a good husband to a nice chaste girl. His lack of manliness and inept attempts to be a man of the house probably would only hurt them both in the long run and lead to divorce or drinking or even drugs on both their parts. His then respectable wife would eventually have to do something to make up for Earl's failure as a husband and man to her. Earl's mom knows her son is a milquetoast and she sees the partnering of him and I, a wimp and a slut, as giving us both what we need from each other. He needs the love of and association of a strong pretty woman - namely yours truly - to bolster his image as a man with other men. While I need his easygoing manner and lack of real manliness to accept whatever I impose on him to keep the relationship together the way I want it. We love each other, but it's our kind of love. It's a "give and take" love relationship - I give directions and he takes them - which keeps our marital relationship in balance and harmony." "And of course, Earl has a greater capacity to take, so you dump on him, right?" "Again, mother, dump is a harsh word. Earl has the greater ability to adapt and accept to the conditions he finds himself in, or which I've cleverly imposed on him. That's how I like to view it." "Ha! Ha! Ha! You should go in politics with all that double talk. But I have to admit, your husband is a one of those guys that if you didn't take advantage of him, someone else probably would have. So from that perspective, he's better off with you." "His mom also implied the same thing. She also admitted that Earl was a mama's boy in the truest sense of the word and needed a strong woman to guide him. She told me the day before the wedding that she knew what I had been doing to her son for the year or so of our engagement, and gave me her full blessings to carry on after we got married, which she was sure I'd planned. We two embraced as I assured her I would be doing so." "You never told me that before." "Well, mom, I wasn't sure you were ready for that yet. After all, you were glad that I was marrying a respectable husband, but you weren't totally pleased at how I was treating Earl." "Yes Eva, how well I remember. I'm glad you didn't tell me that his own mom was virtually a conspirator against him also. I don't know if I would have done anything about it, but I'm glad I didn't know anyway." "His mother is a gem and after my own heart. She told me that Earl probably has a masochistic streak and needs some type of adversity to endure so he can feel useful to those around him. She thought the split personality scheme was brilliant, and especially so when the babies started to come along. It gave him real public humiliation to deal with in addition to the private humiliation of having to suck my jism soaked cunt made that way by other men." "Now I know why you were so sure that she would go along with you having those babies. I bet she helped you quell any dissenting feelings Earl had about you carrying other men's babies to term, didn't she?" "You're right on target mom. After the second baby, Earl didn't have much fight left in him. He just accepted that he was married to two women in the same body - one good and the other an adulterous slut. However, the good Eva insisted on carrying the shameful burden to term, caused by the slut within her. Earl just had to accept it and be a good daddy to the kids, as well as a good cuckold husband to me and my slut side." "And he has been a good cuckold too, even when having to deal with your studs brazenly coming by to pick you, I mean, the naughty Eva, up for dates." "Yes he has. Earl, just as his mom had predicted, is a bit masochistic, and that has also helped bond us even closer together as he has had to face more humiliation because of my naughty side." "What in the world do you mean?" "Well mom, it's like this. Earl sees he and I, the good Eva, as a team, having to fight the adversities created and caused by the naughty Eva in order to hold our marriage together. This is a worthy cause to him. This fits in well with his masochistic nature. That is, even though he finds himself being humiliated as a man, it's for a good and just cause. That is, to protect the woman he loves, a.k.a. the good Eva, and the marriage he's in, even though he has to share his wife with other men, because of the naughty Eva." "A worthy cause? I'm impressed." "Yes, it is to him. And to reinforce that he's doing the right thing, Dr. Easton and I always stress to Earl that he is being a good husband in the way he's dealing with the adversities created by the naughty Eva. That is to be tolerant and let the malady run its course. Basically, we're telling him to accept and adjust to any increasing degree of humiliation. By doing that he becomes desensitized to it. By doing that, it becomes less humiliating to him and more of a routine part of our marital relations." "And I guess that's what happened when the naughty Eva's studs started imposing themselves on poor Earl to suck on their hard hot dicks when she wasn't available?" "Precisely. That's a classic example of how the most abject humiliating act for him has become more or less a routine thing the more times he's been required to perform it. By the way, mom, I've arranged for a few of the guys to drop by, unannounced, to see Earl during the time you'll have the kids over here at your place." "Oh I see. That way, you're going to make sure that Earl and naughty Eva's studs have their privacy, so Earl can truly prove what a really good husband he is by carrying some of the lo..., no I guess I should say, take some of the loads of the marriage. Ha! Ha! Ha!" "You've always had a way with words mom. Hee! Hee!" "By the way Eva, is this cruise going to make me and your mom-in-law grandmothers again?" "Keep your fingers crossed. Hee! Hee!" EPILOGUE: Eva had a great time on her cruise. She brought back many pictures. Many for all to see of the many scenic sites she and her stud, Eddie, visited. However, she also brought back many, and even a video, of her being intimate, actually being thoroughly fucked by Eddie, several times at that. Eva reserved these for her faithful husband Earl to see. Earl was not excited about any of the photos and especially not the intimate pictures and intimate video; however, his adulterous wife's naughty personality had done it to him before. So he was not totally shocked, maybe just a bit. He just endured the humiliating pain as his wife narrated the photos and video of the great sex the other Eva had gotten for both of them. Earl was also glad that his adulterous wife was back for another reason. Over the 6 days while she was gone, no less than 8 former studs showed up with hard dicks. Actually, very hard dicks. Cowed and well intimidated by all 8, Earl spent a lot of time on his knees before them with his mouth stuffed with their rigid hard members and was well filled with the outpouring of the men's viscous, gluey, hot, dick slime. A few weeks after her return from the cruise, Eva also discovered that she'd brought something else home with her, actually in her - a set of twins. Eva told Earl that she's sure one of the videos captured the time that she'd conceived. Earl was not amused or excited about that news. He just grimaced and frowned. Earl is also worried about his wife saying that an even number of kids is better than an odd number. With three on hand and 2 more on the way, he realizes that five is an odd number. Earl, after pondering that matter for a while, came to the conclusion he could only deal with one crisis at a time, and put the potential of pregnancy number 6 in the back of his mind. He expressed a deep sigh of capitulation, and resumed looking through the classified ads for a second job, as his wife, the good Eva, talked of baby room decorations. ###END### Comments? CDE at [email protected] All my stories are archived at www.asstr.org. Click on "Authors", then click on "C.D.E.", then click "FTP".

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c December 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(M+/F, MF, Inter, Impreg, FemDom) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE AUTHOR'S NOTE OF THANKS: To the delightful "real world" couple who were instrumental in my creativity for this story. Story: The Honor of Our Love & Marriage, Part 1 Author: C.D.E. CAST: Wife-Alice Husband-Albert My name is Albert. My wife Alice and I have been married for nine years and have a loving and strong marriage. We have five kids, certainly more than most families have these days. They are ages 3, 4(Twins), 7, and 9. We may be having more, but that depends on what the future holds for us. The number of children we have is due to the steadfast love between my wife and I. We've had many past challenges, and still face daily, new challenges to our deep love from individuals who've sought to break up our marriage over the years. Their efforts started even before our wedding took place. Prior to becoming engaged, Alice and I dated for two years. We were engaged for a year before the wedding. During the entire three years, Alice refused to have sexual intercourse with me. She said it was improper for us to commit fornication prior to getting married. For the two years we dated steadily, there was no sex of any type between us, only steamy petting. Typically after dropping her off at her place after a date, I went home many nights with a tent pole in my pants and blue balls. During this time, she would only let me fondle her breasts through her clothes. I remember her letting me put my hand under her dress only once, and then she'd only let me fondle her hot furry pussy for a few moments. After I put a two-carat engagement ring on her finger, she finally exposed her very delectable tits to me and allowed me the profound pleasure of handling and sucking on her mammary endowments. She knew I was a virgin, and wanted me to remain that way until our wedding night. However, to suppress my pleading to help me end the curse of my virginity - at least that was my opinion of it anyway - she came up with the idea of me performing oral sex on her and me stroking my prick for sexual satisfaction. I'd seen pictures of guys giving head to women, but never had the opportunity to do it before. I confessed the same to Alice. "I haven't experienced receiving head either Albert darling, so this will be a first for me also. However, let me show you how I think you should do it. C'mon, lets get you on your knees while I take off my panties." I was very excited at being able to see her pussy for the first time. She indeed was a true blond. Through her careful tutelage, I was eating my first hair pie, and my, was it very tasty. The musk flavored taste combined with her pleasurable moans and sighs, and the clamping of her shapely thighs around my head was a most pleasant environment for me to be in. I never dreamed sucking pussy could be so delightful. She held my head to her blond crotch ever so tightly until she had a very rousing orgasm. I was so proud of myself for having tongued and sucked her so well. While she was in the midst of her orgasmic afterglow, she looked at me dreamily and asked if I needed relief. Of course my prick was aching somewhat fierce. "Please take it out darling. I'd like to see you jerk off for me." She said sweetly through dreamy eyes. She heeded me on even when it was apparent I was somewhat embarrassed to do so in front of her. However, with my aching need and looking at her luscious blond bush, I soon got over it and was stroking away as she urged me on. She seemed rather excited for me also. That made me feel good too as I shot off my heated load. Finally about three months before the wedding, she finally started handling my prick and would occasionally jerk me off for my much-needed relief from being aroused by her exceptional beauty. Alice was a solid "10" in anybody's book. Our initial meeting was at a medical office, where she worked as an administrative assistant. I met her when I went in for a routine physical. As I was writing a check for the office visit, she gave me her name, phone number and asked me to call her that evening. I was shocked beyond belief that the vivacious blond before me was taking even a second look at me, not to mention giving me her phone number without me asking for it. I was literally dumbfounded and in a mild state of shock and euphoria, simultaneously, at this wonderful and totally unexpected event in my rather uneventful daily routine. I counted the minutes until a suitable time to phone her that evening. We started dating the next week. It wasn't until six months later that she revealed what first attracted her to me. It was because I was a 24-year-old virgin. She'd read my medical file. Somewhere in it, the doctor wrote down something to the effect I'd never engaged in intercourse. She later told me that after getting to know me, she fell in love with my easy going, unassuming personality, and optimistic outlook on life. She confessed she wasn't a virgin due to a few silly high school romances. "Albert, promise me you'll never cheat on me and remain just as sweet as you are now." She said to me the night we had our first passionate kiss, which was two months after our first date. It was official then that we were going steady. I was floating on air for days after that. During the three years prior to our getting married, I never spent as much time as I really wanted too with her. The primary reason was that she was trying to break off, in a gentle manner, relationships with four men she said she had been casually dating before we started going steady. She and I usually dated on Wednesday nights and Sunday evenings. Since the days after each of our date days were workdays, our dates never lasted longer than 10:30 each night. She was busy during the rest of the week trying to slowly break the news to her other men friends. She told me how aggressive they were and that it would just have to take time to wean them away from the relationships. I offered my assistance, but she told me that she must be courageous and do it herself. She eventually showed me photos of the four. They were rather handsome and all looked athletic and tall. Their names were Ken, Kyle, Bob, and Ron. The most shocking thing was that Ken and Ron were black. Mind you, I'm not prejudice, but I was just surprised that Alice, with her obviously demur personality would be dating black men - two rather handsome well built athletic ones at that. Kyle had dark black hair and Bob was a red head. After looking at their pictures, I wondered what she saw in me. They had it all over me any day of the week, for I was only five-seven, 125 pounds and nowhere as good looking as these guys. They all looked like rugged male models. "Looks aren't everything Albert darling." Was Alice's reply to me when I asked why me, and not one of them. That made me feel so much better. Not being overly aggressive, I had difficulty in asking how things were going in her weaning off her other boyfriends, especially since Alice seemed sensitive about me asking once before. That was after she went away on a weekend trip with one of them. I think it was with Ken. "I'm working on it darling, don't worry." Her sexy voice put me at ease. However, when she next broke two of our scheduled dates because she was going away for a week long cruise with Ron, I began to worry that she was indeed having difficulty in letting them know about us. Her seriousness in breaking off her relations with the guys plagued me for the whole time we were dating, and into our engagement. Yes, she was still dating them even when we were engaged. She still was going away on weekends with them up until two months before the wedding. About seven weeks before the wedding, she let me know that she'd finally got it over to them that they were history, and that she and I were the current event. I'm glad she finally got them convinced. For this had gone on long enough and I was about to put my foot down. To formally let them know about us, she had them meet us at a relatively expensive, but favorite restaurant of ours, for dinner. She introduced them to me for the first time. Their pictures did them justice. They were just as muscular and handsome as their photos. To say I was psychologically intimidated by them, would be an understatement. However, it was a cordial evening and each one congratulated me on being the lucky guy to get the prize, Alice that is. As a means of celebrating, they decided to give her a bachlorette party. Of course, I wouldn't be invited. They set it up for the following Saturday night. The four left Alice and I at the restaurant and thanked me for inviting them to join us for dinner. I was a bit upset that my fiancee gave each a rather passionate goodbye kiss as they each lined up to kiss her goodnight. Others in the restaurant also watched with surprise also. Particularly not only the extent of their kisses, but the fact that two of the men were black drew obvious attention. Sitting beside her, it was rather apparent that each kisser's tongue probed the inside of her sweet mouth, as they each gave her what I considered indecent French kisses. To add insult to injury, little did I know that Alice had told them I was picking up the tab. My credit card took a wallop that evening. "Albert darling, I think it was worth it so the guys now formally know I belong to you totally. Plus, they now know that you don't skimp when it comes to making me happy." The last part of her statement had to do with her former boyfriends' concern that I couldn't keep her happy or that I loved her as much as they did. "I assured them that you would keep me happy and that you loved me more than either one of them." Even though it eventually took me three months to pay off the bill, her sweet sexy voice and words of praise convinced me it was a good investment. However, aside from that, I was pleased that things were heading in the right direction for us. Now everything was clear for my dream girl to become my wife. The wedding went off with out a hitch and we had a wonderful honeymoon in Puerto Rico. A slight irritation was that Alice was not on the pill and presented me with a large box of condoms on our honeymoon. I had so desperately wanted to get into her juicy pussy, skin to skin, with only cunt juice between us. However, even with the latex barrier, she was very hot and wet. In order to give her the full pleasure she expected and needed, I had to use my lips and tongue far more than my prick, which she smiled at as she mentioned how cute my "little fellow" was. She said that often during our honeymoon. Upon returning home we went about the business of setting up house and began the routine of being married. Now that we were husband and wife, there were many questions I wanted to ask of my new bride that I was uneasy about asking before. I wanted to know more about her relationships with Ken, Kyle, Bob and Ron during the three years before our marriage. However, before I could get around to asking her, she let me know that the guys had been coming around to see how marriage life was treating us. They first started coming while I was at work. Alice had been looking for a new job and wasn't currently working. I thought that was nice of them, but I finally got up the nerve to her to tell them that it might be more appropriate if they came by when I was home. "I do believe you're jealous darling. I like that. That means you really are in love with me." She said as she kissed me on the cheek. I liked her playful ways. "Anyway, I've invited them all over tonight. They should be here in about a half hour. I wanted them to know about something special for us." "Special? What?" "That we're going to have a baby." She cooed as she formed her arms into a cradle and pretended to be rocking an imaginary infant. "W-What!" I surprised myself at how loud I cried out. "Yes darling, I'm almost six weeks pregnant." "S-Six weeks! W-Why t-that means y-you were preg..." at that point I realized I'd married a pregnant bride. I became speechless. She went on to let me know that the blessed event happened at the bachlorette party her four previous boyfriends had given her. She didn't know it until she got there that she was to be the only attendee, other than them. She also revealed that she didn't know which one of the four was the father. "They all thought that it would be a good way to get our family started. However, the real reason they persuaded me to let them inseminate me was that they thought it would be a good way to see if you really loved me as much as I told them you did." She said softly. "What! O-Of course I-I love you Alice, b-but this is- is so unexpected a-and y-you know it's h-humiliating don't you?" "How darling?" "W-Well I mean, y-y-you having a baby from one of them m-makes me a-a... I-I guess you call it a cuckold. Plus w- with you not e-even knowing which one is the father, I- I..." "Not yet, but when the baby is born, we will." She replied matter-of-factly looking at me as if I'd said something totally stupid. "Y-You're going to h-have... w-what if the baby is-is black?" Alice let me know that in no uncertain terms, she'd planed on having the baby even if it turned out to be black, or that my professed love for her wasn't as deep as I had vowed. She quickly wanted to know if I was prejudice. I emphatically let her know I wasn't. With that out of the way we got into such issues as trust and honesty and not holding anything back from each other. "You do have a point darling. I should've told you what happened at the bachlorette party, but would you have still married me?" When I stammered in replying she was quick to capitalize on my hesitant answer. "See! Maybe the guys were right. Maybe your love isn't as deep as you've professed. And to add insult to injury, just a few days ago at the altar, you vowed to accept me for better or worse. Because of your vow, it really shouldn't matter what happened at that party. Anyway, I was only trying to prove the honor of your love, and look at how you're treating me." Before I could respond to her statement, the doorbell rang. Our conversation was interrupted. Ken, Kyle, Bob and Ron had arrived with little baby gifts and were congratulating us both. It was such a surreal atmosphere as the four, without shame, in addition to congratulating me, handled my wife as if she was theirs. Unfortunately, she initiated the action and encouraged them to feel her tits and tummy, which had a very slight, barely noticeable protrusion, which I hadn't really noticed before. I was also very upset that they apparently knew about the blessed event before I did. I sat quietly, and totally humiliated, as the guys talked about the bachlorette party and who came how often, and who shot the most cum in my wife's juicy cunt. I couldn't believe my ears. They also placed bets as to which one sired the "bun" in the oven. It was as if I wasn't there. During the discussions that were going on around me, it was clear that if I divorced her, they wouldn't be too unhappy about it. Apparently, they'd convinced my new bride that my love for her wasn't as strong as she said it was. Their implication was that I couldn't weather her having one of their babies. She told them my love was deep and true and that it wouldn't matter. In other words, she accepted the thrown gauntlet to defend my love for her. Even though anyone of the four could've trounced me like a rag doll, I was seething with anger at what was taking place around me. I was fed up and couldn't take it anymore. I decided to act. I summoned enough nerve and asked them politely to leave after they'd been there about 45 minutes. "They're our guests, Albert darling. They're an important part of this since they were responsible for Creating this situation." My wife said in response to my carefully worded invite for the four to leave. "Yeah man, one of us did all the work and you get all the credit. See Alice, he doesn't appreciate you. We told you marrying him was the wrong thing to do. You need a man like me. One who wouldn't worry about whose baby it is, but whether does it make you happy to have it. That's how strong my love is" Boasted Ron in an outspoken manner. "No, I'm the better man for you Alice. I know my love is stronger than the others and your pipsqueak hubby there. A beautiful fox like you can have as many kids as you want from other guys, just as long as you save a little bit of your love for me. Now that's true love." Yelled Bob. Ken and Kyle soon added their rowdy statements to the other "who loved Alice the most" declarations. I soon found myself on the defensive as to whether my love for my new bride was strong as that of her ex-boyfriends. "I-I love her a great deal." I replied to Kyle, when he caught me off guard asking me just how much did I Love my new bride. "See that Alice, he's waffling. He don't love you as much as any one of us." Spoke Bob. "Yeah! Drop the zero and get yourself a hero." I think Ken is the one who shouted that phrase out, for I was so shaken by their words that I became befuddled as I tried to speak amidst their noisy clamoring to let my wife know that each one was the best one for her. However, a common theme was that any of them were better than me. Frustrated that I was not as adroit at throwing out snappy statement as they were, I sat red faced and bewildered at what was going on. "Okay you guys, enough is enough, pipe down!" My wife shouted loudly. "Albert is my husband now. I belong to him. You guys had your chance and didn't take advantage of the opportunity to ask for my hand. I know Albert loves me, and he'll do whatever it takes to show me his love is genuine. So you guys just back off." I was moved by my wife's words and extremely pleased at her timely intervention. I knew the real story now. The guys were intentionally trying to break us up by impregnating my wife. I concluded that even though my beautiful new bride was a willing party to their insemination of her, she did it to prove the strength of my love for her. I was determined not to let her down. After they left, Alice came over and sat on my lap. I felt totally different about us after they left. My anger had not only dissipated, but I'd resigned myself to the fact that in order to keep my new bride, the baby she was carrying was part of the package too. I let her know my feelings. "Alice, I'm sorry for getting angry. I-I better understand what's going on now. They're really jealous of us. They're envious of you marrying me instead of one of them. That's why they talked you into letting them impregnate you at that party. I should've known you were too weak to resist them. After all, it took you almost three years to let them know about us, and convince them you were no longer available." I said in a confident tone. "I'm glad you're so astute honey. I do have a weakness with them." She whispered in my ear as she kissed and embraced me warmly. We talked further about how to deal with her old boyfriends in the future, if they dropped by to interfere with our marriage. As we did so, I thought to myself of one consolation that came out of all this. That at least now, I could put it in my new bride, unencumbered by rubber, since she was now pregnant. I told Alice that in order to let Ken, Kyle, Bob and Ron know that they couldn't break up our marriage we had to come up with a strategy. It was her idea for us to practice a non-violence political technique called aggressive passiveness and assertive non-interference. "What?" I asked. "It's simply a technique where you ignore or play along with what your political adversary does. You do so to let them see that what they're doing doesn't phase or deter you. In turn, when they determine that it's a useless expenditure of their time and resources, they give up interfering with you." I marveled at the simplicity, yet brilliance, of what she said. However, I didn't like the way this policy of aggressive passiveness and assertive non-interference was going to be carried out. First of all, it would entail me ignoring their lascivious lusty sneaky ways of trying to break us apart. By doing so, they would see that I was not getting frazzled or wasting my time worrying about their silly antics. Instead, it would show that I was secure in my manhood and had no reservations about the love my wife had for me. Additionally, my non-interference with them would demonstrate the solidity and strength of our marriage, no matter what they did. On the other hand, Alice was to eagerly give into their demands and permit them to have their way with her as proof of the depth of my unselfish love and trust of her. I wasn't happy about her idea, but Alice seemed to think it would work effectively. I didn't have anything better to offer, so I very reluctantly agreed to try it out. Besides, she'd already set the initial groundwork for the strategy by letting her former boyfriends impregnate her. "Darling, I'm so glad I married a man who understands intelligent tactics and stratagems. And thank you for loving me so. I don't know what I'd do without you." Alice said as she kissed me and praised my agreeing to her plan. Over the next few months, Ken, Kyle, Bob and Ron dropped by our home, usually unannounced, including when I was home. They'd come in and made themselves at home. It was not unusual for one of them to have my wife sit on their lap. They'd raise her maternity top to check on her swelling tummy, while she and I were watching TV. It bothered me a bit when any of the four started doing that. They also did other things including caressing her belly, fondling her heavy swollen tits, and fingering her cunt. However, I soon got accustomed to their actions since it was happening so frequently. Until she had to stop having sex in the eight month, it was not unusual for them to lead her by the hand to our bedroom and fuck her while I was left watching TV or reading the newspaper. Sometimes, especially on Friday nights and the weekend, all four of them would be there together, at all hours of the night and day, to check on her and to fuck her in the process. Often, those waiting their turn to be with her, would carry on small talk with me as one or more of them would be in the master bedroom fucking my wife. Alice told me I would get use to this technique of aggressive passiveness and assertive non-interference. I was amazed at how right she was. Soon I was desensitized at my wife essentially being their slut. I think I could see it in the mood and faces of her former boyfriends that they took her for granite as being an easy piece of ass. She said, because of that, they'd soon get tired of her and stop coming over altogether to fuck her. I was hoping it would be sooner than later. "Look at the bright side darling, with all the help you're getting, you haven't had to work your tongue as much. Have you?" She said smiling as she pecked me on the cheek. I could only blush and softly reply that she was right. It hurt a bit to know that her former boyfriends didn't have to eat her pussy to get her off, like I did. They were very skilled cocksmen. She told me so. In fact they didn't suck her cunt at all. "Don't be silly dear, just think of it as another reason that they know they can't take me away from you darling. It shows them that you're willing to do whatever it takes to get the job done. They aren't willing to give a commitment like that." She replied, when I told her how bad I felt about her telling them I had to eat her muff to satisfy her, and that they were far better in the prick department than I. Her words were a needed boost to my fracture ego. My wife delivered a 7-pound boy who looked just like Kyle. He won the pot they'd put up for the bet. I thought it was nice of him to split it with me. Not that I'm prejudice, but I felt relieved that the baby was white. I'd been on needles and pins the whole time Alice was pregnant, worried about the problem of having to deal with us having to explain my wife having a black baby. After my wife returned from the hospital and we were getting use to the routine of having a new baby in the house, Ken, Kyle, Bob, and Ron would drop by to see Kyleton, which my wife named him. She said naming him after the biological father would send a signal to her former boyfriends. The indication being that we weren't afraid of others knowing they'd convinced her to get pregnant by one of them, since it was with the intent that it'd ruin our marriage, which it didn't. She let me know that we were a solid partnership and that nothing her former boyfriends did, would break her love for her husband or cause her to leave me. Her strong words of resolve really boosted my self-esteem. Alice got her figure back in no time by exercising and dieting. She looked as beautiful as ever. This just added fuel to the fire for Ken, Kyle, Bob and Ron. It was not unusual for them to convince her to get all dolled up and go out with one, or all, of them on the town to prove that I didn't love her enough to let her have such freedom. I wanted to get a babysitter and go along with them, but my wife wouldn't hear of it and insisted I stay home. "I'd feel so much better if you cared for our son while the fellows require me to go out partying as part of their silly antics in saying you don't love me enough to let me do so. Plus, if they know you're here doing that, they'll know you're more of a man than any of them are." My chest automatically rose with pride as my wife praised me while her four former beaus watched and listened. I was holding Kyleton in my arms at the time. She gave he and I each a quick, but loving, light peck on our foreheads. She did it in a way so as not to disturb her beautiful makeup. She then said goodbye and walked out the door with Kyleton's real father and her three other former boyfriends. ANOTHER BUNDLE OF JOY I was still using condoms as my wife was still not using the pill and she didn't like using a diaphragm. Our son was four months old when she told me the news. "The fellows kept telling me that they knew for sure your love wasn't deep enough for me to have another of their babies. And I said you were. They said I was bluffing and threw down the gauntlet again. Albert, as I was defending the honor of your love for me, as well as our marriage, I let Ken, Bob, and Ron have me unprotected tonight. They will continue to sex me until I test pregnant. It was decided that since Kyle had already fathered Kyleton, he would be excluded this time. Kyle of course, like you, will have to use rubbers until I'm confirmed pregnant." I wasn't pleased that the guys were starting a new offensive at trying to break Alice away from me. I was very pleased at her defending my honor and love for her. I just didn't like the way it was being done. I was also worried about the black white thing too. Here again, not because I'm prejudice, but that I didn't want to have to deal with the hassle of having to face the problem of my wife delivering a black baby. She tested pregnant about six weeks later. Again the guys formed a pool of money as they bet on who was the real father. Again as before, they went through the ritual of coming by to feel up and grope my wife as she began to swell up in a mother-to-be way. They of course sexed her up until the doctor told her to stop having intercourse prior to delivery. My wife really put her best on the outside as she accommodated their demands for frequent sex. She said she wasn't happy about letting them fuck and sex her so wantonly, but she felt she had to let them know that they couldn't break us apart with their sexy looks, robust sexual stamina, and big cocks. Again I was on needles and pins as I waited for the delivery date. "Honey, you shouldn't worry in the least about our baby being black. If I have a little chocolate drop of joy, it will further demonstrate even more so that you love me." My wife said in reply to my concern about our newest family addition possibly being black. This time Alice delivered a girl. It was clear that it was Bob's child since he was the only red head. Alice named our new daughter Bobbie Jean. Again, I was relieved that at least the baby was white, even if not mine. I was sure the four guys would finally leave us alone, now that it was abundantly clear, Alice and I were strong enough to handle all of their thwarting attempts to interfere and weaken our unshakable marriage. However, it didn't stop them from doing tawdry, raunchy silly things like calling me to give messages to my wife from them. If they couldn't reach me directly at the office, or home, they'd leave messages on our home answering machine for me to call them back. "Dear, you know if you don't return their calls they're going to take it as a sign of weakness." My wife advised me when I told her I wasn't going to dignify their silly actions by making return calls to them. To make sure that I wasn't afraid of them, I did as my wife advised and returned every one of their calls and even, at her insistence, gave them my cell phone number. Even though it showed them I wasn't intimidated by them, it did cost me to take their calls on my cell phone. That really bothered me, but my wife thought it was worth the costs. An example of one of their messages would be: "Hey Al old buddy, give your slut wife a message for me, will ya? Tell her, no panties, no bra, I'll pick her up at nine. Also, don't wait up for her. And by the way, lay out that dark blue micro mini dress for her to wear... you know, the thigh high one I bought her that has a hemline that's even with the bottom of her pussy." As you can see, such messages were meant to be emotionally inflammatory and cause me to be jealous as well create a rift in our loving marital relationship. They didn't achieve their objective. In fact, in regard to my wife's dates with her antagonistic old boyfriends, she even asked me to help her prepare for them. I at first thought it was just an additional bitter pill for me to swallow in this whole unfortunate matter, but my wife kept reminding me we had to fight the battle the way we were doing. "Dear, I know you may get a little weary being in the roles of a baby sitter to our kids and a housekeeper too, when the fellows insist I go out with them. But honey, it also means a great deal to me for you to be a part of giving me emotional support too, as I prepare to do battle with them. Just knowing you're helping me get ready for my dates with them, even though it's so they can have their way with me, really helps my mental outlook and morale to keep fighting the battle." I didn't want to cause my wife's morale to decline, so I acted like a good soldier and did what I could to assist her. She had me doing such things as paint her nails, brushing her hair, cleaning or polishing her high heels, or selecting sensuous sheer undergarments or a sexy dress for her to wear. I also occasionally had to iron a blouse or dress for her while she would be showering, especially if one of the old boyfriends called and only gave her a short time to get ready for a date. In addition to the above, I'd already been doing what she lovingly referred to as her "pussy barbering". That is keeping her natural blond pussy bush neatly trimmed and shaped. Another thing she required me to perform, which sort of grew into a ritual before she left on any of her dates with the four guys, was me kneeling, saying "I loved her" and kissing her cunt. She said that really boosted her morale each time I did that. She seems to have this sparkle in her eyes each time I looked up from my kneeling position after kissing her manicured cunt as she wished. TO BE CONTINUED IN PART 2 Comments? Contact CDE at [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c May 2000 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(M+/F, MF, MM, Incest, Impreg, FemDom, MDom) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Story Title: FAMILY BONDING - PART 2 AUTHOR: C.D.E. ABSTRACT: James, nave and virginal, is engaged to Judy, the daughter of the apparently loving, caring, sharing, closely knit, Smith family. James begins bonding with his new in-laws during their engagement. He eventually discovers that outward appearances of the Smith Family's wholesome image proves deceptive. CAST: Judy Smith-Fiancee/Wife Judy's Mother - Mother Smith James Jackson-Fiance/Husband James's Mother -Mother Jackson James's Aunt- Aunt Jasmine CHAPTER 6: EVENTS FROM OUR ENGAGEMENT: I Learn More About A Smith Family Secret Her father went on explaining the benefits of bonding. However, my mind seemed to shut down as I stood there trying to assess what had apparently happened before I'd arrived. Out of the fog of confusion in my mind, I heard Judy's voice coming through to me. "James, I know this may not be the best way to show you one of our most guarded family secrets, but since you're committed to become a part of the family, you had to be told." She said with a relatively bright smile. "That's right Jamie, the direct way is the best way sometimes. Anyway, my little girl here is quite a good piece of ass. I may be a bit biased, but the proof is in her pussy. Her brothers, her uncles, and both her granddaddies say she's an excellent fuck too. She's got a milking cunt that really knows how to draw all the cream out of a stiff dick." Upon hearing her father's crude, but complimentary, remarks, I felt weak in the knees and had to sit. I flopped down in a nearby chair. I could feel my face becoming flushed. "Daddy you're so sweet to praise my pussy the way you do." "I'm just telling the truth, baby doll." He replied as he leaned over toward her face and they both gave each other a deep juicy French kiss. I hoped this was all a bad dream, from which I hoped I soon would awake. That was not to be. "James, I guess there is something else I have to tell you... well, actually, I want to show you." "W-What?" I said slowly. "Come over here." She spoke. I slowly got to my feet as I move the short distance to the bed where she lay. "This is what I want to show you. Remember all the good eating you've had from here? Daddy and the guys made it all possible." As she spoke she whipped the sheet away covering her lower body. Her legs were spread wide and my eyes instantly focused on her wet messy and obviously jism-smeared snatch. It took a moment to for me to realize what she meant. It then dawned on me that the love juices that I thought were naturally hers, were the result of her coital sessions with other men. "J-Judy, h-how could y-you do this to me." I stammered, as I had to sit again. This time, it was on the bed besides her. "I just wanted to test to see if you were indeed a virgin, if you weren't you would've know what a fucked cunt looked like. You didn't, and after you willing placed your mouth on my oozing muff and ate my cream pie so good, I knew I wanted you James." "Go on son, you can go ahead and root around in her bush and slurp up all that fresh dick cream. Don't mind me. Besides, didn't you agree in the pre- nuptial contract to make sure that whenever you were with my daughter, before the wedding, you would make sure there was no jism in her snatch? Well, it's before the wedding, and you're with her now and I'd say it's time you do what needs to be done, namely getting all that dick juice out of her muff." Her father snidely injected as he pulled his underwear up. The impact of that statement in the pre-nuptial agreement came crashing down on me mentally as I absorbed his words. "Would you James darling? Show Daddy how much you like eating my creamy choohie." "J-Judy! A-Are you crazy?" "Now son, don't speak to my daughter in that tone!" The boom of her father's voice made me refocus my attention away from Judy over to her father, who'd quickly moved right beside me, where I was sitting on the bed. "Didn't you say he liked the taste of your gash before baby?" "He sure did Daddy, every time I gave him a chance to eat me. He's eaten your cream out of me several times." Judy replied with a slight pout on her face. She also added that over the months we were dating, I'd also tasted the jism of both her brothers, all male relatives who'd fucked her during that time, as well as the cum of Judd, Jeffery and Joe. I couldn't believe her revelation. Me a sperm eater? I thought to myself. "What's the matter Jamie, you think your mouth is too good to put on my baby's cunt after she showed you how your pussy cream pies were made? Are you trying to say Smith jism in Smith pussy ain't good enough for you to eat any more?" He grabbed me by the collar and lifted me off the bed with one hand and raised his other hand, which was now a giant fist. The biggest I'd ever seen. Judy's father was a big man. Six foot three and rippling with muscles. "Maybe I ought to rearrange your teeth and see if..." He snarled looking me in my scared horrified eyes. Luckily Judy interceded on my behalf. "Daddy! Please don't hurt him! He's just over loaded from us revealing so much to him at once. Aren't you James sweetheart?" I nodded yes quickly, still watching to see if Mr. Smith's big knuckles were going to come crashing into my face. "You still like my pussy don't you dear, very well in fact?" Again, I nodded affirmatively. I was just too nervous to speak. I was still watching her father's fist. "I can't hear you James darling." Judy spoke louder than the first time. I knew what she wanted of me. "Y-Y-Yes! I do." I said in a distress tone of voice. "Then apologize to Daddy. Tell him you're sorry." "I-I'm sorry Mr. Smith." "You sure are. And I thought you were going to make a good son-in-law. I've still got a good mind to whip your ass and sue you too. Remember that agreement you signed." He bellowed back at me. "No! Daddy don't! I still love James. I want to marry him. You do love me James, don't you, or does Daddy have his way?" Judy asked in a sensuous cooing voice. I looked over at her. She had this strange half smile, half smirk on her face. "Y-Y-Yes I-I do love you Judy." I quickly replied, hoping this was good enough to get her father to back off with his threatening fist. "Then you don't mind showing Daddy that you do love me, do you?" Judy said. "B-B-But Judy, c-can't we t-talk first..." I stumbled and stammered trying to negotiate with Judy, since I feared where she was going with her statements. It was then that I saw her father begin to raise his fist again. I paused, then capitulated and said what I knew what she wanted to hear. "I-I don't m-mind." I said meekly, knowing I didn't have much choice. "That's better. That's the kind of attitude I like to see in a future son-in-law that wants to marry my little girl." Her father said. I was amazed at how easily his mood changed when I became agreeable to doing what Judy wanted. He moved back over and pulled up the same chair I'd been sitting in earlier. "Okay honey, scoot that cute butt of yours to the edge of the bed and let your future hubby prove his love to you and that he's worthy of becoming a Smith son-in-law." Judy did as her dad ordered. Nothing had to be said, I knew what was expected of me. Judy spread her legs wide. The white expanse of her inner thighs did look so inviting, even if her upper inner thighs were wet with trails of leaking fuck slime. "C'mon James darling, do me like you've done me so many times before. Nothing has changed, it's just as good as before." She crooked her finger beckoning me to kneel and then moved her hand right to her jism- smeared pussy. It was obvious what she wanted and what I had to do. The funny thing was that I knew I had to lick and suck her cunt because her dad wanted to see me eat his cum out of his daughter, but the other thing was that I had indeed become hooked on her slick, juicy, tangy muff, even though I was not aware of it's true ingredients. Doing what had to be done, I guided my head to her well-fucked crotch and began my tongue work to affirm my love. Judy soon held my head as she ground her juicy snatch in my face. There was a lot of gunk in her cunt, more than I ever remembered. I had to assume that all the other times, I didn't get the full treatment as I was here. After a lot of tongue work, I soon had her moaning in her customary manner and finally she achieved a loud rousing orgasm. After letting go of my head, she leaned back with the dreamiest smile I'd ever seen on her face. "Clap! Clap! Clap! You can sure handle her hot twat. I didn't think you had it in you. Welcome to the family." Her father said as he further applauded me for my "tongue and suckmanship" - his words. He left Judy and I alone, but before he did, he warned me against "breaking his little girl's heart" and made me promise that I would prove my love, as I had before him, anytime she desired of me. CHAPTER 7: EVENTS FROM OUR ENGAGEMENT: Judy And I Talk "Judy, this is so overwhelming. T-To find out you've been having intercourse is bad enough a- and t-that y-you've had me licking you afterwards is devastating, b-but to find out that one of your regular lovers is y-your dad... w-well it's so much to have to handle." I told my obviously promiscuous fiancee. "I know it is James sweetheart, but Daddy and Mama and I came to the conclusion, the direct way is the best. You see us doing it, and bingo, it's out in the open. No long explanations." Judy replied in a rather cavalier fashion. "But Judy, w-why, after all this time, didn't you let me make love to you." "James, we've gone over all this before. You're a virgin and that's the way I want to marry you. It's a quality for which I'm proud of for you. By the way, so are your aunt and your mother too. "Y-You've talked to my aunt a-about that?" I replied nervously. "Sure. She knows you've never had none - maybe except your fist." She giggled a bit. "That's not funny Judy. I-I don't know why you went behind my back and talked to Aunt Jasmine without telling me." I said with an edgy tone. "Well James, maybe you should talk to her about talking to me about your sex life and use that same tone with her. Do you think she'd take you to the basement and teach you some manners?" "B-Basement, s-she told..." "Lets just say that she let me know that your attitude seem to change quite a bit after she takes you down there and have a talk with you. She said after we were married, she'd tell me more about how to keep little mannish boys from forgetting their place. Would you like to tell me what goes on in the basement or should I guess about what your strong willed Aunt Jasmine meant?" On my first attempt to speak I got choked. I couldn't believe my Aunt had revealed our family secret, so to speak. I would be devastated if Judy knew Aunt Jasmine had taken an extension cord to my backside not less than three weeks ago for breaking a plate, while I was doing the dishes. "Uh... A-Aunt Jasmine just l-likes to stretch things a bit. T-That's all." "Maybe I'll ask her about it later this evening when we have dinner over there." Judy replied. "I was thinking about that, a-and m-maybe that's not a g-good idea after all that's happen Judy. I-I just know that I wouldn't be in the mood and..." "We're going James darling and that's that. You know how much effort she's put into this dinner. It'll be all right honey. Speaking of food, would you like another little low calorie appetizer? I feel some more of Daddy's jism running way down from the back of my pussy. C'mon, lay back so I can sit on your face." "What! J-Judy, you can't be serious." "Yes I am darling. Or do you want me to call Daddy and tell him you're not keeping your promise." I know I must've turned pale, because the mention of his name sent a mild shiver through me as my mind conjured up an image of his giant fist. "C'mon, layback right here." Judy said patting the bed. She went on to tell me how to position my upward facing head. I could tell she knew I didn't want any part of confronting her father. I meekly followed her instructions. I truly felt browbeat. "Perfect! She said as she swung her shapely gorgeous torso over my skyward facing face. She positioned her curvaceous bottom and delectable cunt over my head. A cunt that it seems was only available to my tongue, but open to many other's hard cocks. "Oh yeeees!" Judy shrieked in a slightly loud voice. As she made contact with my face and began to scrub my face and seek out my open mouth and flitting tongue. After about fifthteen minutes, she dismounted my face which she'd used like a saddle. My face was a sloppy mess, as she was right, there was quite a bit of her father's jism still hiding in the farthest recesses of her apparently deep and stretchable gash. Even though I hated being treated as a clean up man for her semen soggy pussy, I couldn't deny that it wasn't un-pleasurable eating her out. It was the principle of the matter that bothered me. I hadn't really noticed it before, since so much had been dumped on me in such a short period of time, but I had a throbbing hard on. I needed relief, even though I was depressed and very upset about finding out the real story about my lovely fiancee. As I said, my face was a slimy mess, so the first thing I thought I should do was wash up. I did so in a nearby bathroom around the corner from Judy's bedroom. Upon leaving the bathroom, I heard noises from a nearby bedroom in the other direction down the short hallway. The door was slightly ajar. From where I was standing it was easy to see Judy's mom sexually couple with Judy's two younger brothers. One had his sizeable prick in her eagerly sucking mouth, and the other, also exhibiting a large cock, had it buried deep in his mom's cunt as she kneeled on all fours. I was again shocked beyond belief at what I was seeing. I briefly stood there in a dumfounded state before returning to Judy's room. I sat down in a daze as I discussed what I'd seen with Judy. "Oh Mom is just bonding with them too." Speaking of her brothers in regard to the scene I'd just seen and was asking her about. "I-I see. Judy forgive me, b-but this all so much of a surprise for me. Y-You know the incest thing..." Judy gave me some background on when the incest started. She told me that she and her father didn't really get it on until he discovered here doing her brothers. She was 19 at the time. She'd been sexing both her brothers for a while before that. "Daddy called it bonding when he and I started fucking. Simple bonding, he would say. And you know what darling? He was right, the whole family came closer together. Mom joined in also and that really bonded us all together. Later other relatives joined in. I've always use the pill so there won't be any unwanted pregnancies." "I-I see." I s all I said in reply. "This is all so new to me Judy. But Judy, where do we go from here, especially now that I know you're also having sex with your old boyfriends. Surely, you don't expect us to still consider ourselves engaged." "Why not James sweetheart? I still need them to give me what you can't, especially since you're going to have to remain a virgin until we're married." "Married! Judy, you can't be serious about that... after all this... and me finding out what you and Judd, Jeffrey, and Joe have been up to behind my back, not to mention the men in your family." "James, you must realize I love you, no matter everything you've mentioned is true. I want to make you my husband. The guys are still just friends, just like I said when I first introduced them to you. As friends, we just fucked on a friendly basis. Friends helping friends out. Their dicks get hard and my pussy gets hot. We come together and satisfy each other's need. Hardly no emotions, just lust. You and I on the other hand, have a true emotional love. You and I are connected beyond our physical beings. Of course, what you do to my pussy is sensational. Also, you and I can talk about anything and have touched each other's innermost intellectual souls. That has never happened with any other men I've dated. You're the one for me James. I truly love you, no matter that you're not physically matched to my sexual needs. I need your emotional and intellectual connectivity. I believe you need and love me the same way." I just marveled as Judy talked. I did appreciate much of what she said, but I also had my pride. "Uh, Judy, I-I understand, b-but what happens after we get married? I-I know and I-I suspect you do too, t-that, well I-I'm not as, well, as well as endowed as your dad or your brothers, or your old boyfriends either." "You're not. I'm sure I'll hardly feel your prick in me. But what is your point?" She said with a puzzling tone of voice. "Well, uh, if you know that I-I won't be able to fulfill your needs then there is no need for us..." "When people love each other they find a way darling." "But if I can't do what you need, then who ..." "Who will do it for me? The same men who've done it for me before sweetheart. Daddy and my brothers, and my other male relatives, and of course Judd, Jeffrey and Joe too." "Y-You mean t-that e-even if w-we get married y- you'd still..." "Of course darling, why not. I'll have more than enough pussy for you and them too. Nothing will change much except I'll be wearing your name and of course you'll finally get to put it in. You'll lose your virginity to me, all proper of course, under the auspices of marriage that is." I-I, Judy I'm having a hard time b-believing I'm hearing you say this. I-I..." For the umpteenth time, I was cut off one more time as her mom walked into Judy's bedroom. "Hi James, I wondered if you and Judy were still here." "Yeah, we were just talking." Judy replied to her mom, who walked into the room wearing only an open, and very sheer robe. She was obviously nude underneath, and to my utter amazement was holding her pussy lips together. "Now that you've been properly welcomed to the family, I want to welcome you in my own way too. Judy tells me you're a real good pussy eater. You mind if I try him out dear?" Directing her question at her daughter, with an air that she didn't have to ask me, only her daughter. "Sure mom, you don't mind sucking mom's pussy do you James honey? She's wanted to have someone eat her cream pie for so long. You're the first for me. Please make her happy and be the first for her too." "Yes James it would definitely make a good impression on me. After all, I will be your mother- in-law." "Sure he's going to eat your creamy box lunch honey, ain't you Jamie? Or do me and the boys have to take you downstairs and have a talk about being disrespectful to my wife?" Mr. Smith walked in the door just as his wife finished her request Cowed, and plain scared to death, for the second time, I assumed the position of a cream pie eater and buried my face again in a wet, hairy, slimy, gloppy, and well fucked, Smith pussy. This time Judy's dad and two brothers watched me as I gave slurpy heavy suction to Mrs. Smith creamy pussy pie. The men all cheered me on and their mom was in seventh heaven as she gyrated and rotated her shapely, but sloppy, bush against my tightly held face. She was very vocal. After about 10 minutes or so, she finally came with an obviously super orgasm as a result of my continuous tongue action. "Oh James, that was something. Judy you have good taste in pussy eaters. He really knows how to suck." I could only blush and cringe at such a dubious and unflattering remark, even though I seriously believed Mrs. Smith thought she was praising me. "Jamie, you did a right mighty fine job. I like you son. From now on, you get the honor of being the family pussy eater for both my wife as well as our daughter, your bride to be." "Oh thanks honey, I really like that. You always do good things for me. Plus it'll give me and James more time to know each other better." His wife added. "That's right mom, you really get to know a lot about a person when they suck your cum filled pussy out." Judy added. "Hey Mom, I think it's really cool to have my scum sucked and eaten out of you and sis." Judy's youngest brother injected his thoughts into the conversation. "Well I guess I better take a quick shower unless somebody wants some more of me. James and I are supposed to be at his Aunt's house in less than two hours. I better hurry." Judy said, as she left to shower after her father and brothers didn't acknowledge that they wanted to sex her anymore. Judy's action and the family's response to it, was done so casually and so naturally, that I was in total awe and amazement. This indeed was a different family lifestyle than I'd ever imagined for the Smiths. Her mom now wore the same dreamy expression I'd seen earlier, as I glanced over at her lying back on Judy's bed. Still not believing what had taken place, I reached for the towel I'd had earlier to wipe her mother and brothers' fuck juices from my face. Her mother's cunt, had tasted as good as her daughter. Of course, I could never admit to that. As I was wiping my face, I heard Judy's youngest brother asking his mom for some more pussy. She rebuffed him. "Aren't you satisfied dear?" His mother replied to his request. "Seeing him do you like that got my dick up again." He commented. "Well I'm tired and my pussy needs some rest." His mother commented wearily. "Why didn't you ask your sister for some?" "She was in a rush." "Then You'll have to wait for a while or go jerk off. Now leave me alone so I can finish enjoying the afterglow of having both of you boy's fuck slime sucked out of me so wonderfully, thanks to my delightful, soon to be new son-in-law." She commented as she threw me a kiss. I blushed even a deeper red than before. My face was hot. "Hell! Jamie! Since you were partially responsible, that is for eating his mother's creamy box so good, I think you ought help out here. I think it'd be a good idea to for you to take care of his dick." "W-W-What?" I stammered in complete confusion and utter surprise as to what Judy's father said and implied. "You heard me! Suck his dick! You're responsible he got hard and you're responsible his mama's pussy is worn out! So it's only natural you fill in for her. Now get on your knees and open you mouth!" I was stunned beyond belief once more. I couldn't believe Judy's dad was going to make me a cocksucker too, after all else had been done to me in such a short period of time. I eyed the door, but knew I couldn't make it. I saw Judy's brother, the one with the hard dick, and a sizeable one I might add, advancing toward me. Mr. Smith seemed ready to pounce on me for the slightest sign I wasn't going to submit to his son. My heart was in my mouth as I concluded my only chance to get out of this with teeth was to let another Smith shoot cream on them. The younger son's prick was at least 8 inches long, thick in diameter and quite swollen, irrespective of the fact he'd screwed his mother very well not less than an hour ago. "On your knees Jamie." Mr. Smith bellowed. Like a robot, I knelt. Really my knees just seem to give way at his command. Now I was right in front of his son's jutting, blood gored dick head. The penis glans were so shiny and distended. I'm not a penis lover, but I couldn't help but thinking what a magnificent tool the younger son had. There was pre-cum in the eye of his ready prick. I didn't know anything about sucking cock. It dawned on me I should say so. "M-Mr. Smith, I-I've never s-sucked a..." I stammered, but was quickly cut off. "No problem, just start licking his cockhead, let him push it in your yap and keep your teeth out of the way. Then you just suck and slurp like a baby. Don't worry, my boy will tell you ain't sucking him right. And Jamie, if you bite him, you gonna lose some teeth. Got that!" I was too scared to answer. I just nodded my head I understood. When I turned my head back to his son's looming cock, he pushed it right to my lips. I licked my first taste of hot pre-cum. It was slippery, and a bit slimy, but not bad tasting. A few licks and I could tell by his moans, and the pressure of his dickhead against my lips, that he wanted to make my mouth his pussy. "Oooooh, that feels good and wet." I heard him moan as I parted my lips and he easily slipped the head in, as well as about three inches of his rigid shaft too. I truly had a mouthful now. He pulled back a bit and pushed even deeper now. My mouth was truly stuffed. "That's it Jamie, you got the hang of it. You're a natural. Just slurp and suck, that's all you got to do to get your reward." I still hated Judy's dad calling me Jamie and even more for what he was doing to me. The idea of a load of his son's cum a reward was disgusting, but I knew I was helpless not to do other than I was doing. I was surprised at how quickly I got accustomed to the feel of his big stiff member between my lips. I also got my breathing technique under control. I was really concerned about Judy's brother's ejaculation catching me off guard and me choking on my "reward", as his dad put it. I didn't have long to wait for the cock in my mouth to spurt and spewed its load of fresh hot semen. To my surprise, I was able to swallow all of the hot white slimy fuck fluids. The taste was similar to the taste of when I first tried a glass of milk with a raw egg blended in it. The biggest difference, his jism was rather creamy and very warm as it gushed over my tongue and gums. I knew he or his father wouldn't tolerate me not swallowing it all, so I did. Mr. Smith's son obviously enjoyed helping me do my first blowjob, because he held my head to his cock for at least 5 minutes after he came. His father encouraged him to do so and for me to suckle and "milk" his 19 year-old son. I had no choice but to do as I was told. "Plop!" His son pulled his dick from my mouth and the sound emitted was like that of a popgun. I was glad that scene of embarrassment was over. I started to get off my knees as I wiped my mouth. "Stay there Jamie, I think you got another customer." In disbelief I looked to my left and now the other son, the 21 year-old one, held his sizeable fuck tool and it was jutting obscenely out just like his younger brother had previously. I was speechless and looked at Mr. Smith with pleading eyes not to make me degrade myself again. He seemed to read my mind as well as my eyes. "You've done one, what's another one, especially since you already on your knees and hot and ready to lick and suck. He said. I knew it was hopeless. Once again, I licked, lapped and open up for another Smith prick. Besides having to suck his son's well-proportioned cocks, the sad thing was that each of them was at least three times bigger than mine. As I sucked and slurped on this next son's hard man meat, I thought of the fact that Judy was accustomed to such big meat. Yet if she loved me as she said she did, it was obvious that wasn't a priority for the type of husband she wanted. She knew I was significantly less endowed. It was slowly dawning on me that she needed or wanted, a weaker man than the type she'd grown up around. One that was more sensitive, but who she could control and wouldn't interfere with her apparent need for multiple big cocks. Macho men such as her father or brothers or her old boyfriends would be jealous and territorial. However, a more modest, actually less endowed and meeker personality like me, even though intelligent, who she could control through her beauty and other means might be more to her liking, since she's somewhat strong willed too. I wondered how I could be thinking of such a thing as I was on my knees being subjugated and disgraced in the worse manner as I was. It about this time I sensed that the next Smith prick was about to erupt and shower my gums with his hot thick cum. "Ooooooh Yessss! Here it coooomes! Hold my balls! Hold them Jamie!" I quickly did as he directed me. As he yelled as he started spurting his heavy semen in my sucking mouth, I could feel a slight tremor in his rather large balls. Afraid of letting them go to soon, I held them for the time I had to milk the dregs of his jism as he soaked his softening penis between my lips. I was so glad when his completely soft dick slipped from my lips, even though it left a long ropy strand of goo between my lips and his dick that stretched at least a foot until it broke as he walked away. I thought, finally this part of my nightmare was over. Again I started to rise. I desperately wanted to wash out my mouth, for my mouth was feeling gluey and slimy from all I'd been forced to do. "Don't move, just one more to go. I snapped my head to see Mr. Smith coming from the other direction with his much larger and more massive member. He had it exposed and at the ready. It stood out like a small club. "P-Please Mr. Smith, I-I simply c-can't do another one. P-Please let..." "Dry up Jamie! You won't have to do hardly any work this time at all. I'm gonna help you out." He said loudly. "Here hold my balls." I was still kneeling and mortified even more by his much larger tool and bigger balls. He was before me before me in an instant and had pushed his much larger, but just as swollen penis head toward my slime coated lips. He just pushed. My lips parted and my mouth filled with his huge erection. I held his huge balls. They were overflowing my smaller pale white hands. I managed to keep my wits about me, trying to gather solace in the fact that at least he was the last cock I had to worry about. Just as he said he would, he did help me. He started slowly fucking my face as he grasped the back of my head. I literally was being faced fucked. I worked hard to keep my teeth out of the way and to accommodate his actions as he treated my head as a fucking device. "Oh Yeah! You got some good mouth pussy here Jamie!" He shouted as he jacked off his big boner with my head. This went on for somewhere between 5 and 10 minutes before he shot off what was surely the largest load of the evening I had to eat from the smith men. To make matters worse, unknown to me until it was too late, Judy's Mom, who was lying back on the bed watching the forced oralism of me, had pulled Judy's handy cam video camera off a nearby shelf. She'd recorded virtually every suck and swallow I was forced to perform on her sons' and now her husband's stiff erections as they made my pursed lips and mouth their private fuck receptacle. I had been thoroughly used and vanquished, I was beyond resisting them, it was a simple matter of trying not getting beat up and surviving the ordeal. By the time I realized I was being videotaped, Judy's dad had just begun his ejaculatory spurting. As usual, it was to be a sizeable load of semen from his large dick. Shocked at what Judy's Mom was doing I pulled my mouth free of her Dad's spurting dick. What would've been just a normal regular run-of-the-mil blowjob in which the man being sucked, jism was dutifully consumed, my action caused the making of a XXX quality cum scene blowjob with her Dad's sticky gooey cum stretched all over my face and ropy strand drooling from my lips as well as splattered on my startled face. Seeing her with the camera, I made a futile attempt to get up and put my hand in front of the camera lenses some six feet away. I never got more than a foot, as her irate husband grabbed me and almost held me up with one hand. I was thoroughly berated for not letting my mouth stay wrapped around his gushing cock." "You owe me another blowjob! Actually as many as I want! Got that!" Again, I was cowed even more than before. I was afraid I was going to get clobbered by his powerful fist, even after all I'd done to prevent from being beaten. His fist was clench and ready for action. I just knew I was a gonner. In the midst of that I'd almost forgotten about his wife and the camcorder. "Stop Honey! Now take it easy honey. I startled him when he saw I was taping him. He didn't mean no harm. It was just an accident. Right Jamie dear?" "Y-Yes ma'am" I meekly said. Thankful for her intervention even though I noticed she too was now calling me Jamie. I hated it when people called me Jamie. But this was not the time to exert myself or complain about such a small thing. "You see he said so dear. Now Jamie, tell my husband, that you're really sorry for pulling your lips off his dick as he was shooting off, but will be more than happy to make it up to him as many times as he and the boys need you to fill in for Judy and I." Not knowing what else to do, I capitulated and basically committed my mouth as a surrogate pussy for the Smith family men. To make matters worse, her husband threw in the further condition, that other family men could also count on me for head too, if they needed or wanted me to do them. I just knew this couldn't be really happening, for I was on the verge of tears after he let me go. I fought hard not to cry. It was awful. CHAPTER 8: EVENTS FROM OUR ENGAGEMENT: The Drive To Dinner "James, you really are going to have to do something about your attitude. You know I love you and so does Mom and Dad, And you know my brothers like you a lot. Probably more so now that you've sucked their dicks. And don't worry about Dad, it'll be okay with him. He'll get over you pulling off his dick just as he was coming. I'm sure you can understand they way he felt. He's willing to forgive and forget, why can't you? After all, he agreed to let you suck him some more to make up for one little silly disagreement." "I-I-I don't believe I-I hear what you're saying." I-I've got to pull over so we can talk about this." I said as I pulled just inside the entrance of a nearby park. "By the way Judy, thanks for letting me use your toothbrush. My mouth was so gummy and gluey f-from doing you a-and your mom as well from swallowing your brothers' and Dad's thick cum. I-I just had to brush before I left there." I said in an embarrassed manner. "Of course darling, we are a partnership, bonded by love. We will share so much on this journey of commitment to each other." Judy replied in a sweet cooing voice, as she placed a kiss on my forehead. She sounded and looked so delectable. However, she used that "B" word again - bonded. I was beginning to see it as a four-letter word even if it wasn't. "But seriously Judy, you really think I-I'm the right guy for..." "The right guy for me? Of course you are, James darling. I really love you. Surely you aren't going to let a few little, well, er, not so little, cocks, and some other men's hot sperm interfere with the obviously deep love and affection we have for each other, are you? I know I love you and I'm sure you love me too, don't you?" Judy spoke in a warm wooing manner. I hated it when she talked that way. It had a way of soothing me down whenever things were going wrong. "J-Judy, I-I'm having a hard time dealing with t- this. Y-You're so cool and clam. Y-Y-You were h- having sex with..." "Bonding darling, bonding with my brothers and Dad. It's us doing such things for each other that build up the warm, nurturing, and close relationship we have as a family. "Judy, it r-really hurt to know about you having in-intercourse b-behind my back, but with your family members and old boyfriends is-is a lot to deal with. A-And that doesn't even touch on all the other things I was forced to do... and now that y-your mom has that video, I-I just don't know what to do." "That's easy, you're going to accept me, love me, and become my husband." "Judy, w-why are you doing this to me? Yes I do love you. You're the girl I could only dream of dating, much less planed to be married to." "Remember we talked about this some time ago James. Looks and prick size are not everything sweetie. You have other things I need besides those things. You're caring, you're understanding, gentle, and most of all, we can talk about the books we've read as we take long walks and share tender moments." "B-but when we're not doing that and you have the urge to be with your o-other men a-and family members, w-what about me?" "You can find something else to do while I get help for your inadequacies in that area. However, you're not to get involved with another woman! That is O! U! T! OUT! You are to remain faithful! Understand?" "Y-Y-Yes. Q-Quite clear." I replied meekly as I stuttered and stammered. I was caught off guard by her sudden, point blank assertiveness. Judy and I talked for a while more. It became rather apparent, she had no inclination of releasing me from my commitment for marriage and that the videotape her mom made was also now a part of the persuasion tools she held over my head. I gave up trying and decided to resume driving over to my aunt's house for dinner. Besides, I was hungry. "You mean you're still hungry after all the creamy appetizers you've eaten?" Judy replied at my remark of being famished. END OF PART 2 TO BE CONTINUED IN: FAMILY BONDING PART 3 (Sometime This Summer - circa 2000) Comments? C.D.E. at [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright AUGUST 2010 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form or sold for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(CUCK, M+/F, MM, MF, Impreg, FemDom, Lite MDom) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Title: CDE-2010-8A: Phantomville Vol. 10: Wife Protection Ordinance - Part 1 Author: C.D.E. PREFACE: This is a story - more like an autobiography - of an anonymous husband whose fate it seems, has doomed him to forever be a cuckold and hopelessly subjugated to the control of his voluptuous but assertive wife, as well as his dominant mother and mother-in-law. And with him now a resident of the city of Phantomville, there is no telling what he can look forward to in a city that is known for its variety of unique experiences, especially for cuckolds. CHAPTER 1: A LOVING MARRIAGE My wife and I have a loving marriage, even if by some accounts, it may appear to be unorthodox. I say that because my gorgeous wife is often seen in the company of other men while I'm at home doing chores, and as the kids came along, babysitting them in addition to doing chores she desired me to do. For the last 15 years since we've been married and living in Phantomville, she has been going out socially with a few of her male co-workers and other men acquaintances. Early on in our marriage, it was Steve and Lee. Those two skirt chasing jocks dominated her time the first 5 years of our marriage. They both eventually left town, but not before leaving reminders of themselves with us, but more about that later. Over the last 10 years, two other of her men friends, named Joe and Dan are among her regulars. Sometimes the three of them go out together as a threesome, but mostly my wife goes out with just one or the other. Joe or Dan, or her other men friends, always pick her at our house, with me usually answering the door, and often serving them drinks, as they wait on her to finish dressing. As they came in and waited, it was at first very awkward for me to have conversations with her handsome muscular built men friends, all of whom seem be the jock types that she seems to gravitate to. They also all seem to exhibit a level of assertiveness and even some arrogance, that easily psychologically intimidated me. Another reason I guess I usually feel a bit ill at ease is because of the apron I'm often wearing when they come by. As you can imagine, such Alpha type males would make interesting comments to me about it. You see, my wife insist I wear it when I'm doing chores around the house and especially when I'm working in the kitchen. She also insist that I wear it when I answer the door when her men friends arrive. It's not the type of aprons guys wear when they're cooking on the grill. It was a wedding gift from my wife, and is an old fashion white pinafore design, with tiny ruffled trim. My new bride knew I was very well trained by my mother in doing domestic chores and cooking, so she gave it to me and told me she expected me to make full use of it. Well anyway, over time, I've become acclimated to her men friends teasing me about it and have become well settled in my role as a mild mannered cuckold. When my wife returns late at night, usually well after midnight, she actually wakes me up and insists that I suck her very moist and well, wet slimy cunt. She acts likes there's nothing wrong or unusual in her demanding me to do this. There's no doubt she's had wet sloppy sex with her date, because her snatch is dripping as she straddles my face. I act like there is nothing wrong and neither does she offer any explanation for the abundant deposits of sperm oozing from the depths of her gapping cunt. In fact, I know she has this rubber pussy type plug that holds the fuck gunk in her pussy until she arrives home, so I'm pretty sure her actions are intentional in humiliating me this way. But alas, I've been too scared to say anything for fear of a confrontation with her, so I say nothing, and I suck her very messy cunt to give her the pleasure she seeks from my oral efforts. I often have to do this as many as 3 or 4 times a week. As I've said, I've never said anything to my wife about my strong suspicion of her having sex with her men friends. I don't complain or refuse her when she insist on me being her cunt sucker - really her cream pie eater - either, as I love my wife very much and don't like for there to confrontations in our relationship. And it's obvious, the very rousing orgasms she gets from my pussy sucking, is a key ingredient in our marital sex life, and her being satisfied with me as her loving, but under endowed and unpretentious cuckold husband. Joe and Dan, as with all her men friends, are much taller and much more handsome than me, not to mention more muscular also. I also know her men friends all typically have reputations as skirt chasers and cunt hounds. And with my wife being as beautiful as she is, as well as the dick magnet she is, it's no wonder they would be after her charms. And even though Joe and Dan are regulars in taking my wife out socially, as I said, there have been many other men who have also taken her out too. It's been that way every since I met her, including while we were dating, and even through our engagement. These kind of guys were always after her. There was little I could do about it, especially since she would date them anyway, despite that she claimed that she truly loved me. Yes you read right. In addition, she never admitted to having sex with any of them, but never denied it either. You see, I've never been much of an outgoing person and am definitely not a party animal. I guess if you look up 'homebody' in the dictionary, you may find a picture of me there. But seriously, my wife has always loved night life and going out dancing and to the clubs. And she didn't hide that she didn't think it was wrong to be escorted out by handsome muscular dates, while she was in love with and married to a plain, unassuming, nice guy - namely me - who is a hard working husband. She seems to like that I am more of a stay at home type guy and has encouraged me doing so. In fact, she's always made many convincing points as to why it was better for me to stay at home and take care of the house, and later as the kids came along, babysitting them, as she went out socially and relaxed at what suited her best. Even back when we were dating steady, and then later engaged, she and I continuously had tense discussions about her going out with other guys, since we were supposed to be committed to each other. You see, she had me promise to be faithful to her, even though she let me know that she could not commit to being physically faithful to me, that is, because she would like to be with and date her men friends socially. She however, committed to being steadfast emotionally faithful to me. On the other hand, she expected and demanded I be both. This was very confusing to me, but because I had made a promise, she, my mother, and her parents insisted on me honoring my promise. For some strange reason, they all accepted that she should have her freedom, and it didn't matter if I didn't. Cowed by their unanimous and persistent, insistence, I vowed to keep my promise. Mother really grew to like her and chided me for thinking that that my future bride would do anything wrong just because she would be going on dates with other men, while I had remained faithful to my dream girl. My wife has always been a bit assertive. This was a trait that mother seemed to adore about her. You see, mother is also assertive - really more like bossy and controlling. Both my father and I were always under her thumb. Mother let me know I should not be selfish and suspicious just because my fiancee desired the freedom to be with other men who were handsome and better looking than me. She stressed that I should be grateful that such a beautiful girls loved and cared about me, even if she did have a weakness for physical interaction with tall handsome brawny men. To be honest, I could never determine what my wife saw in me, but I was definitely smitten and fell heads over heels in love from her interest in me. She was more of the dream girls that I could've dreamed of. I'm just a little over 5'6" and of small stature, and by all accounts somewhat of a plain inconspicuous guy. Some might even say a mama's boy, as mother is quite controlling of my activities, even if I was 23 at the time I was dating and became engaged to my future bride. In addition, and I know it's probably odd, but I was also a virgin - a guaranteed one at that. You see, mother had a fancy electronic chastity device installed on me when I was only 12. She had this thing about me marrying as virgin - hence the device. It basically consisted of 2 connected and flexible plastic rings that were made up of wires and hermetically sealed circuits in them. One fit around the base of my cock and the other around the top of my balls. The snug fitting device was thin, not uncomfortable to wear, and almost hardly noticeable. However, if I attempted to do any significant caressing of myself, I would be rewarded with a series of electrical jolts that would start off as very mild and escalate to being very painful if I continued to stimulate myself or attempt to have sex. Mother had an electronic remote to the device, that only she had the password to. As I grew into puberty, she permitted, but supervised me as I was allowed to masturbate every 10 days to relieve the sexual pressure that would build up in my balls. It was embarrassing to me at first to jerk off under mother's watchful eyes and smiling face, but I got use to it over the years. And here I was 23 and still under her protective gaze and supervision. She had dad wear one too all these years, so he and I both were in the same prison, so to speak. Over the years, as new models came out, both mine and dad's cock locks were upgraded. Mother made sure that we were always wearing the latest models. And to my total embarrassment and chagrin, mother revealed to my beautiful future bride, that I was a virgin and let her know all about the device I was wearing. My future wife had told me that me she didn't want us to have regular intercourse before marriage, but I didn't really believe her. After all, what couple waits until they're married to have sex these days? But when mother let the cat out of the bag - so to speak, it seemed that my future wife was more interested in me than before, and especially my virginity. She praised mother for her foresight and making me save myself for the right girl, which she said was her. "I knew you were the right guy for me, so nice and mannerly and always the gentleman, not brash like so many guys who are always thinking of sex and only themselves. But in addition, I now find out you're a virgin. That makes you extra special to me." She said in front of mother and I. My future bride openly indicated she was not a virgin - and left it at that. I tried to get more out of her about her former sex life, but all she would tell me was that she has had sex before and nothing more. But she made it quite clear, that she very much desired to have a husband who saved himself for his new bride. Her folks repeatedly echoed her feelings, and also were excited about my virginity. I was thoroughly embarrassed about such talk - especially since most guys never brag about not having gotten some at my age. But all in all, her family was really genuine about welcoming me into their family as their future son-in-law. CHAPTER 2: THE ENGAGEMENT Mother had given me her grandmother's wedding ring set and strongly encouraged me to get engaged as soon as possible since she saw my new girlfriend as an excellent catch. I was really in love, and despite my trepidations about my girlfriend's lack of apparent faithfulness to me, I asked for her hand in marriage. She accepted. I was very joyful that I had gotten her to commit to be my future wife. However, the only disappointment I had was that even though we were now officially engaged and on the road to getting married, she let it be clearly known, that she still had no plans to stop dating other men. I discussed this same point with my future bride's mother, hoping she could persuade her daughter to change her ways. To my astonishment, her mother embraced me warmly and spoke in a very sincere tone. "My dear boy, you should not mistrust her, or misjudge her true love for you, just because she has a thing about dating other men socially. She truly loves and adore you, and always expects you to accept this little quirk of hers, and continue to be fully faithful and loving, as well be there for her when she needs you. Don't you worry, she'll be back after her dates. We know you to be very responsible, and we are counting on you not to disappoint her in meeting her needs." I was taken aback and just stood there with my mouth open. I couldn't find words to reply to my future mom-in-law. I eventually ended up telling her that I wouldn't disappoint them - my future in-laws. I don't know why, but I guess it was her convincing tone that made me feel that all was okay for her daughter to treat me this way. Within a few months, we were married in a quiet private ceremony,. After the first time we made love - on our wedding night - my new bride had me lick and suck her soft hot wet pussy meat to finish her off, as I didn't last a full minute before ejaculating - in the rubber she insisted I wear. She also let me know, that she thought it would be better if I counted on licking her pussy in the future too, since I wasn't that strong in the cock department. Her words hurt, but I to concede that the facts were on her side. From what little she did reveal about her previous sex life, It became clearly apparent that she was accustomed to men with much larger cocks. It really was a big letdown to me that my prick didn't have the sexual stamina to finish the job of pleasing my new bride on our wedding night. I was also disappointed that she insisted I wear a condom. However, as a consolation, I was very pleased and even delighted to at last be able to handle and fondle her magnificent tits - something she forbade me from doing before we were married. Her forbidding me to do so just seems to make me want to handle them that much more. I had performed oral sex for her the whole time we were engaged, as that was the only way she let me be intimate with her. It was her idea for me to do her orally and she persuaded and taught me how she liked being eaten. Well, really considering my situation, that is with my cock locked up, it was the only way I could be intimate with her in a way that she found satisfying. I grew very fond of being her pussy licker and sucker. Many times I became so excited from being so intimate with her and having my mouth on her hot hairy sex, that I would involuntarily come in my shorts. Her intense, vocal and rousing orgasms definitely contributed to me not being able to control myself. She found this quite amusing and pleasing to see me with a wet spot on my pants. Since my fancy cock lock was sophisticated enough to keep track of my ejaculations and report them via cell phone to mother. Because of that, I had to end up telling her about my bouts of oral sex with my fiancee. Mother beamed at my admission and praised me for being such a "suck stud" - her words. I didn't know what to say. Well anyway, she encouraged me to continue being a "good pussy sucker" and it was from this event that lead to mother giving my fiancee her own remote to my cock lock. The purpose being so I could now relieve my sexual pressure by beating my beat under my future wife's supervision after I went down on her. My fiancee was overjoyed at this. It was bitter sweet to me. Sure it would be good to give my throbbing prick relief, but I didn't know which was worse, having to jack off, or having to do so under the discretion of, but still under the watchful eye of my future bride. It seemed my manliness was being ambushed at every turn with my fiancee, but she seemed to love every time it happened. It wasn't until we were married that I became truly suspicious that she may have been having sex before we were wed, that is when she was out on those "socially Platonic" dates with her many men friends. And then it dawned on me that I may also have been fed some of her many different men friends' jism too. Every since she had introduced me to licking and tasting her pussy meat, I grew increasingly fond of doing that for her. It really bonded me to her. But if I had been tasting other men's cum, I didn't know what to think. Surely she wouldn't have taken advantage of me, and do something so dastardly, just because I was naive about sex,. You see, I had gotten quite use to the taste of her luscious and delicious pussy, which was always juicy, and her pussy lips were usually gaping , when I put my head in her gamy but exotic tasting crotch and pushed my tongue deep into her succulent syrupy slit. I came to realize now that there could possibly have been the smell of men's jism melded in with her womanly erotic body aroma. However, my suspicion arose because I just happened to overhear a few words of a phone conversation she was having with her mother. I heard her say "I know it's naughty ... It really satisfies my kink to feed him... Anyway, he always enjoy eating me... His tongue feels so good after I come in from a date... That's why I didn't want to marry a real man... I love him in my own special way... I could never love a real man the way I do him." The more I thought about things, I had to face the reality that my fiancee, and now with her being my wife, had utterly used and humiliated in a terrible way. Yet, to have heard her say that she could never love a 'real man' the way she does me, did console me somewhat for the way she had, and was continuing to treat me. As I pondered things over, it was obvious that I had to have something going for me to be able to hold onto such a beautiful creature. It apparently was something that most men would not be boastful about. That is, having your woman love you because you're good at sucking her other stud's sperm from her pussy. And to boot, a pussy she won't let me ejaculate in without wearing a rubber. I also had to face the fact that I knew that I still cared too much for her to walk away and leave her, despite her shabby treatment of me. I guess that's what true love is all about. That is when you still love someone who treats you like they don't love you. I had to talk to someone whom I trust, so I went to mother. "Perish the thought! How dare you think of leaving her!" Spoke mother loudly. Her strong reaction startled me. All I could do was be silent and listen. "Son, she does love you. That's what matters. So what if you have to lick up a few drops of semen her studs leave behind. Think of it as her sharing with you what she has to get from others, because you can't give it to her. She's simply sharing the pleasure she gets from her other men, her 'real men'. Just think, based on what you heard her say, if you were a real man, she couldn't you as well as them." Her words shocked me, but I had to concede that mother did make some strong points. "And remember dear son, people who love each other share experiences." Mother added. Mother and I talked a long while. She also reminded me that since I did find my new bride's pussy tasty anyway, it was just a simple matter of accepting that a dick had been there before my mouth. "Don't let it worry you sweetie pie, I know you have it in you to get over it. Especially , so since it's clear that your eating her cream pies endears you to her." Mother said . Her counsel was a great consolation. Plus, she made me feel so much less ashamed about consuming the cum of other men. "Son, it's not like you're going out looking to get these men's cum. It's being brought to you, by the woman you love, in the spirit of her love for you. You should not see anything perverted or degrading about that in the least." Mother also added "And to avoid confrontation and discord in your relationship, it might be best for you to not say anything about your suspicions, but just keep doing what you've been doing. After all, you know you love her dearly and don't want to lose her. And secondly, you're quite use to sucking her wet, drippy, gapping pussy. So there's no real reason for you to stop, especially since she gets so much pleasure from your mouth. And it's obvious that's probably one of the strengths of your hold on to her dear son." I couldn't deny mother's logic or rationale. She urged me not to ruin my competitive advantage over my new wife's "real men". Well, back in my marital bed, I usually mouth my new bride to several orgasms, almost always after she comes in from her late dates. And since it was very apparent since our engagement days, that she was far more sophisticated at sex than I. She convinced me that it was so much better for me to do her orally than working so hard trying, but not succeeding, to get her off with my small penis. "And besides darling, I just adore seeing you jack off. I find it so sexy to see you shooting your stuff all over your hands". My wife said to me with a broad warm smile. You see, she seems to adore me masturbating more than putting it in her warm wet soft pussy. While I masturbate, she exposes and fondles her voluptuous tits and inviting cunt for my intense gaze, as I pull my little peter under her watchful eyes and smiling face. Well to make a long story short, this became the norm for our conjugal sexual activity. That is, except for the one day a year - my birthday - when she lets me put it in her luscious pussy - wearing a condom of course. I've come to see this as a sign of her love for me, to allow me doing this when it's fairly apparent, she gets little if any pleasure from my small cock and my minute and a half of humping her. CHAPTER 3: MARITAL RESTRAINT Another thing I've had to contend with - and still do at present some 15 years later in our marriage - but could do absolutely nothing about it back then - or now - was my new bride's decision to have me to continue wearing my cock restraint after we were married. Myself, mother, dad and my future bride, and her parents, were over at mom and dad's house one evening. Sitting next to me and all the while embracing me tightly, my future bride to be, in a serious tone said "I have to decided to keep him under lock and key so as for it to be a constant reminder of his love for me, and our love for each other." I was stunned and speechless, as she had said nothing to me the many times I had let her know how I couldn't wait until I didn't have to wear the darn thing anymore. Mother eagerly interjected her firm and full support of her decision, as well gave her effusive praise for helping me to be reminded of our love for each other. My bride's parents also joined him and also expressed that they thought it was an excellent decision too. When I finally could see straight and could get words out of my mouth, anything and everything I said in opposition was not even considered. It was like I was not even in the room, even though I strongly and loudly opposed what was being done to me. I only quieted down when mother, in a firm and loud voice shouted "SHUT UP!" and threatened to whip me for being rude. Yes even at 23, mother still had that power over me, and I knew she meant business. It had only been about 8 months ago that she had last bruised my backside with her infamous skinny electrical cord because of her perception that I had misbehaved. My dad over the years, has also been acquainted with the painful business end of that same electrical cord too. He knew to say nothing and be quiet. With tears swelling up in my eyes, I sulked and slunk away in shame at mother's sharp rebuke of me in front of everyone, including my new bride. And to my further dismay, my new bride seemed to be enjoying my embarrassment and mental torment with a smile on her face, that really was more of a smirk. Later I found out she and mother had a chat about the merits of corporal punishment in a marriage. To make matters worse, mother insisted that my future wife take one of her spare electrical cords as a wedding present. "You never know when he'll need to be reminded to be cooperative and his love for you." Mother said laughing as she looked at me sitting quietly across the room. The others in the room joined in her laughter, except my dad, for he felt my shame and knew my mom was dead serious. I just hoped that my future bride would take all being told her with a grain of salt, and not be serious about using her new gift at all. I wondered how much worse could the price of love and marriage be for me. Well, anyway, mother's hand off of my cock lock remote to my new bride was a formal part of our wedding ceremony. It was almost like mother was handing her the keys to some new piece of property that was just purchased. As you can imagined, that was another embarrassing moment in my life I'd like to forget. But I digress, and won't go into that experience here. CHAPTER 4: OUR KIDS As I mentioned earlier, the kids started to come along over the years of our marriage - 6 of them. I must say, my wife is a wonderful mother and adores our children as much as I do. I truly am the doting dad. You notice I said 'dad' and not 'father', because there is strong evidence that none of our children were fathered by me. I say that because our kids strongly resemble her co-worker men friends I mentioned earlier - remember Joe and Dan, and Steve and Lee? Two of our children - a son and a daughter, both blond - strongly favor Joe in the face plus he's blond. My wife and I are both dark haired. Two of our other children - also a girl and a boy - strongly resemble Dan in their facial features and hair color. He's a red head. It didn't help my suspicions about my wife being sexually unfaithful with her two co-worker men friends - Joe and Dan - when she insisted on the Christian names for our kids be: Joseph, Josephine, Daniel, and Danielle. Our two oldest daughters look as if they were fathered respectively by Steve and Lee. Also, my wife insisted on naming them Stephanie and Leeann. One time when I expressed these same suspicions to mother, she said to me, "Son the longer you take care of them the more they'll grow to look like you even if you never have ejaculated in your wife's pussy without wearing a rubber. " It's rather apparent my wife's men friends have had the pleasure of coming in her unprotected cunt. That is, at least the ones that fathered our children. I have never said anything to my wife about my suspicions that her different men friends could be the biological fathers of our kids. And she has not volunteered any information either. I know my in-laws are just being kind when they frequently tell me how much the kids look like me. CHAPTER 5: A NEW BEGINNING AND A NEW WAY TO PROTECT MY WIFE During the course of our marriage, I really was hoping that my wife would settle down and get over her seemingly constant need for tall brawny good looking men friends to take her out dinner, dancing and clubbing. But, as you now know from my narrative so far, that didn't happen. Phantomville is a progressive town, and the people appear to be very tolerant of things that wouldn't be tolerated socially in other locals. It also is very family oriented too. A good case in point is that not long after we were married, I found out about a city ordinance entitled the Phantomville Wife Protection Ordinance or commonly referred to as the PWPO. It was new at the time and it seems that only a certain part of the populace knew about the law. I'd never heard such a law before. It seeks to protect wives from sexual assertiveness by men other than their husbands. The law prescribes what a husband is expected to do if a another man is aroused by or attracted sexually to the husband's wife. I was glad that a guy on my job informed me about the PWPO and filled me in on what was expected of me as a husband, should a claim be made against by a man aroused or sexually attracted to my lovely sexy wife . Otherwise I would've been clueless if a Phantomville man had approached me and expected me to fulfill my part of complying with the ordinance. But before I tell the reader about the PWPO, I need to digress a moment, but will return to the issue of the PWPO. You see my co-worker met my wife when she dropped by my office to see me one time and he introduced himself. They began socializing soon after that initial meeting. I tried to deter my wife from going out with him, but she accused me of attempting to curtail her freedom as a wife in a marriage that was open for her, but not me. "N-No dear, I-I understand y-you h-have your needs, b-but I-I was thinking s-since he' m-my co-worker, it-it wouldn't be a -a good idea for him to b-be socializing with the wife of a-another employee." My wife accepted my explanation and even apologized for her accusation. But she let me know that it would be alright and added "Since he's your co-worker, I'm sure he'll be the perfect gentleman." She said to in a cavalier manner as she was waiting for him to arrive for one of their dates. For my gaze, she twirled around to show me how she looked in one of her sexy and skimpy little black mini dresses, that revealed too much cleavage up top and too much of her thighs at the bottom. I could only mentally sigh at her reply and the sight of her, since I knew from the rumors at work, that Lou specialized in seducing married women. My wife looked stunning and was a walking wet dream. They had another social outing one weekend too, where she and he went away to a resort . I thought that was nice of him to invite both of us, but my wife thought it was best for me stay at home and work on a long list of chores she wanted me to get done before the next Monday. So therefore, I couldn't go. Well anyway, Lou advised me that he had become very much aroused by my wife and wanted to do the right thing and tell me about it, so I could do the right thing to resolve this issue. I told him that I appreciated his honesty and I realized that my wife was attractive and men did get aroused by her figure and her playful, if aggressive flirting. I apologized to him and told him I would speak to her about her about her behavior. "You don't know about the Phantomville Wife Protection Ordinance do you?" He asked me. I had to admit to him bluntly, that I didn't. He then said that he couldn't talk about it in the office, so he invited me to his apartment which wasn't that far from the office. He was a bachelor and lived alone, and it was easy for me to swing by his place on the way home. After letting me in and offering me a drink, he began to tell me about the Phantomville Wife Protection Ordinance or PWPO. My eyes popped open when he explained what was expected of me as the husband by the PWPO. He told me more about the PWPO and that he was alerting me that he was invoking it. He then let me know I'd been put on notice, that I, as the husband who had been put on notice, was expected to give him, the aroused man, at minimum, a blow job and to swallow his ejaculate to fulfill the conditions of the PWPO. The idea being that if the husband took the potential other man's load of sperm, the other man would have a lesser reason to pursue the husband's wife. In addition, the PWPO also had a provision that if a husband had a penis smaller than 5 & 3/4 inches in length and 3/4 inches in diameter when erect, he could not appeal a claim under the PWPO and had to pay a fine of $1,000 for each instance of claims being brought against the husband and him not personally complying with the PWPO. I groaned when I was told of the penis dimensional requirements. My prick is only 4 and a half inches long and I suspected I couldn't meet the diameter specification either. "W-Well I-I've never heard o-of such a thing. A-And even though the l-logic of the husband consuming the aroused man's sperm is b-better... I-I guess.. t-than t-the man seeking to have the wife take it. B-But I-I don't know -a-about...I-I've d-don't t-think I-I c-could ever s-s-suc" He interrupted as I was trying to make my point. "If it's the thing about the man and man thing, we in Phantomville are more sophisticated than that. You will not be looked down upon because you suck my dick and swallow my cum. Instead you will be seen as basically doing what any good husband would do to protect his wife from another man's dick. And I know you don't want me or other men going after your wife with a bigger cock than yours. Would you? Oh don't be surprised, I've seen your prick at the urinal at work. It's obvious you're not well hung." I felt so small at his matter-of-fact on the spot assessment of my endowment. Not only was I flustered and blushing and nervous, but I knew I was red in the face. I could feel the heat in my blood from all the belittlement that had suddenly been unleashed on me. "I-I-I see." I slowly said. I continued the best I could. " I-I guess I-I wouldn't want to e-encourage another m-man to go after my wife, e-especially if-if he's b-better endowed." "No, of course not, and don't worry, as far as never having sucked a dick before, I'll tell you what to do and how to keep your teeth out of the way. And as far as the taste of cum, I suspect you won't have a bit of trouble. Why I bet there are men in this town who are not as upright as I am, and I suspect you've already tasted their cum in your wife's pussy." I know I had an even more pitiful look on my face in reaction to his words. "You don't have to say a thing. It's common knowledge that little dick guys eat a lot of pussy, especially if their wives are as pretty as yours. And it's also common knowledge that an easy going guy like you would more than likely suck up another man's slimy leavings and not say anything for fear of upsetting her, and her possibly leaving you. So at least I'm doing you a favor by being honest and open with you." I had to admit, Lou was candid and straightforward. I know I looked vanquished at all that had been told me. I just sat and thought for a long moment. Finally I replied to Lou. "SIGH! I-I g-guess it-it's best if-if I-I do as you suggest. I-I guess I-I can't fight city hall, s-since m-my prick is-is not big enough to a-appeal a-and I-I don't have the money f-for the fines, o-or at least t-the number of times claims c-could be brought against me. I-I guess I-I might as w-well learn how to s- s-suck cock, because y-you probably w-won't be the last man to m-make such d-demands of me." I replied softly and in a very meek voice as I stammered excessively. Lou applauded my action and praise me for being an upright and courageous husband as well as doing the right thing, as he dropped his pants and exposed his semi-hard large penis. The head was so large. And in just seconds, his dick had stiffen and swollen to a rather prodigious length. His tool was easily 7 plus inches in length and rather thick in circumference too. His was a cock to be in awe of. After I'd been shown how to suck my first dick and swallowed my first directly ejaculated heavy load of heated gooey sperm, Lou congratulated me on my first blow job and praised my mouthing action as very good for a beginner. He let me know he's had his dick in the mouths of many husband and wanted me to know I had a natural sucking rhythm and a good swallowing reflex. "You swallow my dick scum so naturally without hesitation. That's a very good attribute for a cocksucker." He added. "And don't you worry, if I hear of any of the guys saying they are aroused by your wife, and start to make a play to get in her panties, I'll send them to you right away so they can get their dicks in your mouth and dump their hot burning loads down your throat." He said to me as I was leaving. The only thing I could think of to say was "T-Thank you" since he seemed like he was genuinely trying to help me out by keeping keep cunt hounds away from my wife. True to his words, he did as he said. Within 2 weeks after that meeting with him, as I recalled, 8 men met with me and invoked their rights under the Phantomville Wife Protection Ordinance. I swallowed a lot of hot thick creamy jism from their big dicks to resolve their claims. But I have to admit, I not only learned how to be a better cocksucker from the experience, but got a much better understanding of the sexual prowess and stamina of these so called pussy hounds, or bulls. Even Lou said so when he came back sometime later for more head from me. "Damn! You've really gotten better." Again, not knowing what else to say or do, I could only thank him for his praise of my newly gained skills as a cocksucker. Eventually, even though I didn't want her to, my wife soon discovered how I was protecting her from horny men who were aroused by her beauty. She was so delighted and excited that I was doing this for her. She let me know she adored me sucking hard cocks and swallowing all the hot pent up sperm that that horny men would liked to have ejaculated in her. It did make me feel better that she didn't think any worse of me as a husband because I was having to deal with other men's sperm in the manner I was. In fact she told me "Honey, you don't have to worry in the least about me thinking you're a lesser man because you're a cocksucker. Sure, a real man would not suck dicks, but a loving husband would, and swallow cum, just like you do." Others may not understand, but her words meant a lot to me. However, soon after she knew of my defending her, it seemed that I began to notice heavier loads of deposited cum when she had me sucking her messy gamy semen drenched pussy. It was obvious that there were still a lot of men who disregarded the PWPO provision and went ahead and exploited my wife's weakness for handsome muscular men and their sizeable dicks. At that time early in our marriage, I had to assume that Steve and Lee were among the guilty parties. Still, in order to keep from hearing what I didn't want to hear, I never brought up the possibility of her having wanton unbridled intercourse with other men, but continued to suck her sloppy gloppy snatch without question. The other thing that bothered me a bit, was that I was finding her terribly messy cunt a delight to suck. And there was no denying that just as mother had told me before, there is a certain joy from a couple sharing and having intimate moments. Before I met my wife, I never thought, they would be of this nature and in this manner. But alas, it's true what they say, life can indeed be strange. Over the following months, men were constantly calling me to put me on notice about their rights under the PWPO. I had learned that it was expected I would take care of the men within 12 hours of being notified they had a hard dick because of being aroused by my wife. One case of me having to react quickly to keep the men from reporting me to city authorities was when 2 members of our church contacted me and invoked their right to have me give them sexual relief. After getting their urgent call on my cell, it was agreed I would meet them at a cheap motel nearby. I was so happy they would split the cost of the room with me. They didn't have to, since the PWPO pretty much puts all the burden on the husband to provide accommodations for the sexual act to take place. Once in the room, the two men dictated to me to get undressed and become totally nude for their pleasure. I then was required to then help them undress. As I did so, they required me to caress and fondle their two big, hard, long dicks and large hairy balls. They both were so horny as their large and very stiff rigid dicks were quickly jutting at an obscene angle toward the ceiling. I couldn't help but being impressed by their much larger cocks. My smaller prick made me feel very inferior, but as is the case, the husband has to do as these 2 horny men were demanding, for after all, they were the perceived victims and trying to do the right thing by coming to me with their lusty hard-ons. "OH SHIT! That feels so good. Your hands are as soft as a woman's. And OHOOOO, ! Yessss! Suck my dick! Yes sissy! That's it! Suck my dick!" It was easy to tell from their verbal expressions, it wouldn't be long before I would have the mouthfuls of heated gooey jism they were anxious to give me. Another thing about having become a skillful cocksucker is that I have come to learn that what might be considered derogatory comments by the men, are actually indications of how well a job I'm doing in getting them near the point of no return. That is, where they unleashed their torrent of hot jism as they ejaculate their heated sperm down my throat. My father-in-law always stresses to me that cocksucking is an art, and as has drilled into me, I should take great pride in drawing men's hot pent up semen from their bloated balls, as I use my lips, tongue and sucking mouth action. My father-in-law has been instrumental in helping me keeping my cock sucking skills honed, but more about that later. As I suckled one, then the other hard throbbing erection of the church member, it was obvious that my oral administration to their heated hard dicks was working quite well. " Your wife should be proud of you the way you got my dick cooled down." One of the men said, praising me before the two left, leaving all their pent up hot thick rich semen in me. Their kudos did make me feel good that I had once again kept some well hung pussy hounds from causing my wife to yield to her weakness for big dicks, and letting them flood her pussy, and possibly inseminate her, causing our family to grow even more. So there you have it, another example of what a day can be like for me in protecting my wife from better hung men. END OF PART 1 STAY TUNED: PART 2 COMING SOON! Comments? [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright October 2001 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(Cuckold, Humor, D/s, M+/F, MM, MF, Inter, Impreg) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE TITLE: INVESTIGATION & INTERROGATION AUTHOR: C.D.E. ABSTRACT: A couple is raped on their honeymoon. The new bride desperately wishes to catch the culprits. Her new husband is aghast at the extent his new bride will go to investigate and interrogate suspects. In a land, far, far, away from reality, this story takes place: CAST: Lewis-Husband Lora-Wife Mother Kane-Lora's Mom CHAPTER 1: LEWIS COMES HOME FROM A HARD DAY'S WORK "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN! I've been on my back all day gathering evidence! You think I've been having fun giving my pussy to 10, not 3 or 4 or 6, but 10 big black dicks, all day while you were at work?" Lewis had expected some vehement discussion from his wife, but nothing like what was being dumped on him. He just stood and listened to his angry wife. "You've got some nerve to come in here and tell me about how messy the house is after all the investigation and interrogation I've been doing today! Why I bet you didn't stop over at a peep show to suck one black dick on the way home did you? I've told you if we're going to catch those three bastards, we'll have to identify them by their dicks. What better way for you to get a lead on possible suspects than offering free head at peep shows and adult theaters around town." Lewis started to mumble, but his assertive and beautiful wife cut him off. "You don't have to say a damn thing! I can see the truth on your face. You really aren't serious about defending my honor as your wife. Are you?" "Lora, you know better than that. It-it's just that, well you know... I-I'm getting quite a reputation as a white cocksucker, no matter how I disguise myself in the black section of town. Several of the men already tell me their dicks get hard when they see me, especially my lips. I'm telling you darling, there has to be a better way. I've swallowed so much..." "DAMN IT! Lewis, will you stop complaining how much cum you've had to swallow. Hell! When you come close to the amount I've eaten, then you can complain!" "I-I'm sorry Lora. I-I apologize for making you angry. I-I promise I-I'll stop by and suck some cocks on the way home tomorrow." "That's better honey. Who knows, you might get lucky and identify one of them. To show me you're serious and not just putting me on, promise you'll make up for today. Let's say you try and do at least 20 tomorrow." "T-Twenty! I-In one evening? W-Why that'll take..." As he looked in his wife's eyes and saw the frown forming on her beautiful face, he stopped speaking and knew what reaction to expect from her if he didn't appear to be more proactive in the direction he knew his wife desired. "O-Okay Lora. I give up. I'll do as you want. I-I'll try to s-suck at least 20 dicks to see if I can identify any of the rapists." "That's the spirit darling. Actions speak so much louder than words. Sucked dicks show much more sincerity than excuses. As I said, and you know the detectives agree, it looks like the only way to track the rapists is to examine their pricks close up when they're erect and then see how well they fit in our mouths and my cunt, as well as how much jism they spurt, and also the taste of it too." Lewis quietly cringed at the sound of the word "Detectives". He said nothing but continued to listen at his irate wife. "Don't get angry with me honey when I blow off steam like that. You know it's just because I'm so distraught over being raped. You know this is serious to me. That's why I took a vow to not have straight intercourse with you until we find those devils that raped me and you and humiliated us both. No dear, we both must be diligent and unwavering in our pursuit of them." CHAPTER 2: THE NEXT DAY As Lewis made his way home the next day filled with 22, not 20, loads of hot sticky gooey public dick scum shot off down his throat, and not one recognizable dick in the bunch of black men he sucked off, he lamented about his plight, and what he saw as a futile search for the men that raped he and his wife 6 years before. He was so tired of sucking strange black dicks. However, to keep his wife happy and keep those damn detectives off his back, he had been blowing black dick after black dick every since the rape incident. His wife, Lora was insistent that they not give up in their search for the men who had raped her repeatedly and made him clean her up repeatedly, as well as the dicks of the men doing the raping. Lewis had considered himself raped too. That is since the men came in Lewis's mouth and got aroused at his licking and lapping and sucking cleaning actions. Lewis also had plenty of blame to issue around as to his wife not giving up this very unusual search for rapists that Lewis had a strong hunch were from out of town. Especially, since what part of the tags he saw as their car sped away, their car was from out of state. The other thing that pissed him off were the black detectives who interrogated them after the rape. The detectives and other policemen, all black, have encouraged her in the perverse manner she's going about her quest. Any objections by Lewis caused him to be lambasted by his wife and the law enforcement officers for not wanting to track down the rapists. Incidentally, these same detectives wanted to clear themselves as suspects of this dastardly crime, therefore they offered to fuck his wife to demonstrate their innocence. Lora, his wife, to Lewis' total surprise, gladly accepted their offers. She also, as well as they, indicated that it was mandatory that Lewis participate too. When Lewis tried to decline, he was again, severely chastised by his wife and the detectives for not doing his part in attempting to contribute to bringing the rapists to justice. He was castigated as less than a decent husband not to help her out in this cause as well as the manner in which the investigation was being conducted. A black prosecutor and a black judge, who'd heard of the case, and who also were friends of the investigating detectives, also sought to get involved and offered to clear themselves as possible suspects. Lewis's wife gladly accepted their offers, to her husband's shock and chagrin. "Honey, the detectives are right. We must try to recreate the way things happened when the rape occurred. This is necessary and we must accommodate them, no matter if there are 14 them of them or how hard or big their dicks are. Besides, I have committed us and if you don't stand by me, that would only prove what the police men said earlier about you." "W-What? About me not being a good husband because I've objected to the..." "No, darling, not about your status as a husband, but as a man. You see honey, a real man would stand by his wife, no matter that he'll have to eat a little of other men's sponk from her snatch or lick and suck on those same men's dicks if that's what it takes to defend the honor of his woman. You do want to defend my honor, don't you?" "Of-Of course I do Lora, b-but..." "Then that settles it, I expect you to do your part just as I'm going to do mine. Now don't fret a bit honey. I know you're full of anxiety about all this. I understand. I understood and respected you when you did what you had to do during the actual rape. I'll respect you now as you suck my pussy clean of the men's cum tonight, as well as when you tongue and suck their dicks clean also. And honeybunch, don't worry about the guys not respecting you tonight as you suck up their leavings in my cunt, or when you put your mouth on their pussy-slime coated members. They'll have a much higher opinion of you even if they don't say so." "T-They will?" Her husband replied, literally mumbling and stammering simultaneously. "Of course. If anything, they'll respect you much more when they actually see you in action slurping their frothy spend from my cunny. And when you have their tools under tongue, your esteem will really rise, especially if you do a good mouth cleaning and cause them to get hard and spurt. Dear, if you get them all to coat your tongue and throat, I'll sincerely know you're behind me 100%. Now lets stop chattering and get ready for our guests." Lewis tried to respond, but his wife walked briskly away before he could muster up enough strength to speak. He heard her humming happily in the bedroom as she eagerly prepared for the sexual encounter with the prosecutor, judge, and other black detectives who desired to clear themselves as possible suspects. The group gangbang of his wife was a spectacle that poor Lewis had never imagined could've happened to him. There were 14 men total that came to clear themselves by coming in his eagerly receptive and beautiful bride. The judge and prosecutor were first and second in line respectively. After fucking Lora and encountering resistance from Lewis when it came time for him to lick the black judge's large, wet, pussy slime coated black dick and balls - the same way as he had to do the rapists - Lewis was threatened with a contempt citation, by his Honor, for obstructing justice. "Just imagine how many dicks you'll be licking in jail for 30 days, if I issue this citation." The judge told him as he looked at Lewis, who was horrified at the thought that he could be incarcerated. He was also terrified at what the judge said about the other prisoners making him suck dicks anyway. Lewis accepted the lesser of two evils and dropped to his knees and went down on his honor. Besides licking all the fuck slime from the magnificent black penis, Lewis also got an honorable wad of hot cum shot down his throat. Lora was very pleased at her husband for his actions. Lewis wasn't happy at all, but recognized that the powers to be that were against him. With the rapists Lewis only had to deal with licking and lapping clean 3 slimy dribbling dicks. This time there were 14, not to mention the extra time he spent tongue douching his wife's fuck inflamed pussy clean of the 14 men's heavy loads of semen. Needless to say, his wife was quite tired after her sexual interrogation of the 12 policemen, the judge and the prosecutor. Lewis was not only tired but also full of the group's lusty outpouring. As he drifted off to sleep later that night, Lewis pondered if the group thought he'd proven himself as much of a man as his wife had lead him to believe. CHAPTER 3: LEWIS AND LORA - THE BEGINNING Lora has a 36C-23-34 figure on a 5'2" frame, is redheaded and has enticing sparkling bright hazel eyes. In simple terms, a very beautiful woman with a bouncy walk that will get most men hard as she passes by. Lewis on the other hand was just shy of being a nerd, but he was a nice guy, who Lora came to be intellectually and emotionally attracted to. Lora also became enamored with Lewis because he was easy going and appealed to a part of her personality that seemed thrill with having her way and controlling things. Lewis didn't know it, but he was ideal fodder for her utilization when she had a mind to be in a bitchy dominating mode. Lewis, of course was overly thrilled just to be associated with such a lovely girl even wanting him to associate with her. Therefore, he virtually went along with whatever she desired of him. He also found her witty and intellectually compatible too, which further caused him great joy. During the steady dating phase of their relationship and prior to becoming engaged, Lora only let Lewis kiss her lightly on the lips, nothing else. There was no tongue-to- tongue action, and the light lip pecking only started after about 6 months into their steady dating. Lora was insistent that any other intimate activity had to wait until the relationship matured. Lewis was of course additionally excited that not only was a beautiful woman attracted to him, but one with high moral standards too. Lewis worked hard to save up money for the single carat diamond to put on his beloved Lora's hand. She accepted his proposal and they became officially engaged 12 months after having been steadies to each other. A wedding date was set for a June wedding. During their engagement period, to Lewis's delight, the couple's level of intimacy increased. Lewis got his first French kiss from his beautiful fiancee. Lewis was also hopeful that the relationship would also include sex. It did, but not exactly what he was contemplating. "No Lewis darling, we must wait until our wedding night to fully consummate our bond to each other, however, in the meantime, we can do other special things together that will serve as, well as sort of appetizers to that special event." Lora said to him after he got up enough nerve to proposition her for some. The "other special things" Lora had in mind, while not totally to Lewis's liking, he went along with. The part he didn't really like, but found enjoyable, was her jerking him off, which was usually after he lapped and licked and tongued he luscious cunt to a rousing orgasm or two or three. He'd only heard of eating pussy before, never really performed it for anyone. He found it very easy as well as pleasing to do for his beautiful fiancee. It was especially thrilling to see her writing in pleasure caused by the actions of his tongue. It made him feel macho to have given her such a pleasure and to see her response and movement. Pussy licking and mouthing her also appealed to Lewis because he had some, no, a lot of doubt, as to whether he had the right equipment in his pants to satisfy a woman, especially one as beautiful as his red headed Lora. After discussing it with her, he was very relieved by her assurance that his small cock would not cause her to love him any less. "Lewis darling, my love for you is not based on such a silly thing as the size or measurement of your penis. I can find ways to get around that. If I need to get the feel of a bigger cock, I can always get a sex toy or some other way to get that urge taken care of. The only thing I want from you is that you'll honor, love, and respect me, no matter what, for better or worse. Oh, and one other thing, that you'll never stop sucking, licking, or lapping my pussy, whenever and however, I want you to do it for me. Is that a sworn promise?" "Yes! Oh yes Lora, for better or worse, I solemnly swear and promise to love you no matter what." "That's so nice of you Lewis dear. But what about my pussy?" "Oh, of course darling, I'll put my mouth on your pussy and suck and lick and lap you whenever you need or want me too. You can count on that Lora darling. Yes, I most certainly swear and promise to do that for you." Lewis was besides himself with joy and delight that such a beautiful creature wanted him so much to extract such commitments from him. He just knew this marriage was going to be so blissful. What could go wrong? He thought to himself. CHAPTER 4:THE WEDDING NIGHT - A NIGHT OF RAPE Lewis and Lora's wedding was a beautiful affair and all went well without any glitches. The first leg of their honeymoon was to a remote coastal location where many newlyweds went. The scenery was breath taking and there was lots of land and space between each of the modern log cabin suites in the complex. The site was Lora's idea. Lewis wasn't thrilled with the isolation of the resort complex, but the serene location and privacy would afford the newlyweds the long awaited opportunity to explore each other's bodies and delight in each more fully sexually than in the manner they currently did. Lewis was definitely anxious to put it in his ravishingly beautiful new bride. He'd dreamed so long of placing his cock where his lips and tongue had only delighted in. It'd been a busy and long day for Lora and Lewis. The wedding, the reception, a three hour drive, and dinner were all out of the way. Lewis, even though tired from the activities of the day was running on nervous energy as he awaited his opportunity to slip into the comfort of his new wife's juicy warm pussy. The two were on the verge of retiring to bed after an especially savory dinner at the resort's restaurant, which had been a 2 mile drive away. Each cabin in the complex were a quarter mile apart, which afforded each guest real privacy. The bright white and very revealing lacy bridal lingerie that Lora wore only fanned Lewis's desire for his new wife. Lora knew that her new husband desired her greatly and had been teasing him with kisses and suggestive actions all evening, before dinner and especially now that they were about to share a bed formally as husband and wife. Just as the chiming clock struck on the hour, there was a knock at the door of their cabin suite. "Ignore them, they'll go away." Lewis said as he was beginning to take off the lacy but flimsy negligee his new bride wore. "No honey, it might be important." Lora replied in a serious tone. "We have plenty of time for what's on your mind." She added with a wink and a peck on her new husband's cheek. Again Lewis attempted to proceed with undressing and his new bride, while assuring her ignoring the knocker, would be all right. "No Lewis darling, it may be an emergency." Lora replied in an even more serious tone. Reluctantly and quite irritated, Lewis quickly hopped out of bed and walked swiftly to the door in the hopes of dispatching the knocking interloper. As he swung open the thick wooden door, what greeted him was totally unexpected. In rushed three men wearing ski masks. One was holding a gun in Lewis's startled face as the other two rushed through the door and straight to Lewis's new wife. CHAPTER 5: AFTER THE RAPE "Lewis, I understand you did all you could. That's behind us now. Now we have to find these despicable men and cause them to get their due punishment." "Lora, the police have assured us that they are working as..." "That doesn't mean we can't do our own investigating and help them out. Besides, the police don't have as much incentive as we do in locating these horrible criminals." Lora injected quickly, cutting Lewis off mid sentence. Besides, both of those nice detectives agreed with me, remember?" "I know they did dear, but s-still the police are better trained to investigate such..." "DAMN IT Lewis! The three had you suck their dicks and swallow their big hot loads. Didn't that upset you? And just look at how they used me like some gutter slut. Didn't that get you angry? They used me over and over again, then had you tongue clean me up between fucks. Didn't that bother you? Or did you like doing that for them?" "N-No of course not. I was just as angry as you were Lora. They made me do that for..." "It doesn't matter now Lewis darling, but I have to admit it was different to have you sucking their gooey cum out of me. It really made me have more intense comes than when you ate me without a messy pussy. I also have to say you did look cute sucking on their big black dicks. The way your jaws were bulging really added to it all, especially when you were swallowing their stuff." "Lora! H-How can you say a thing like that?" "Just a factual comment darling. However, I must admit, their big hard dicks got me off so many times, I lost count. It was traumatic and degrading what happened to us, but the sex was good for me, even if it wasn't planned the way we both wanted it to happen." "I-I wasn't sure if y-you really were pretending or not, that is the apparent orgasms you seemed to be having." "No Lewis darling, they weren't pretend in the least. With the equipment those three had and the way they used their tools, it was all real. They really got me off in ways I never dreamed of. As I said earlier, your mouth made me feel even better than usual too." "You really held my head tight. My ears really hurt from you pulling me to you so hard." "I know it's naughty and maybe a bit perverse, but it felt good holding your head to my dripping pussy and hearing the sound of you slurping up their sperm." Lewis, silent and unbelieving at his wife's comment, was not amused. CHAPTER 6: LEWIS CONVERSING WITH HIS MOM-IN-LAW "I understand how you feel having to watch her have sex with all those black men, but as long as you know it's for a good cause then that should put your mine at ease. Even though it may look like she's having fun and enjoying herself, nothing could be further from the truth. Any woman can tell you it's hard work opening her legs and getting fucked by as many men as Lora is screwing. You should only have adoration and praise for her." "I-I never thought of it that way, Mother Kane." "Also, I've been meaning to tell you that you should not feel the least bit of humiliation or shame just because Lora is pregnant for the third time with some strange black man's child. You are the perfect daddy to the other two, I don't see why a third should change that. I know you love the first two so I see no reason why you shouldn't provide the same love and concern for this one." "I-I will, b-but when I-I learned she was g-going to have another baby . a-and knowing I wasn't the father . I- It sort of got to me... Y-You know... Knowing that she's still sticking to her promise to not let me have any until we bring the rapists to justice." "You have to admit, her goal is noble, even if somewhat uncomfortable to you dear." "You're right about that. However, I-I wish y-y'all would try to change her mind. S-She knows I'm dedicated to catching those rapists the same as her. B-But two black babies a-and her being pregnant again, all within 6 years, a-and m-me only being able to suck up after others have had her... a-and having her jerk me off or pulling myself when she's not around or in the mood or too tired...It-It gets to me sometimes." Lewis was distraught as he stammered and spoke in a broken voice and with incoherent grammar. "I fully understand dear. You know, I hadn't thought of it before, but your mother and I could help out by beating your meat for you. I don't know why we didn't think of that before." Lewis didn't like her idea at all, but his Mother-in- law called his mom and the two dominant women, quickly contacted Lora on her cell phone. After a conference call among the three women, Lewis discovered much too quickly that his mom-in-law's idea had been accepted unanimously. "Lewis, we three have all agreed on this, that as of now, you are never to jack off without permission or supervision from one of us." His mother-in-law said in an authoritative tone. Lewis could only stare at her in disbelief as he absorbed the impact of her words. CHAPTER 7: LEWIS AND THE DETECTIVES Lewis had reason to dislike the black detectives who encouraged his wife in her quixotic search. One of the detectives named Jake, and several of the other black detectives, literally came to Lewis's house anytime they wanted, often pushing past Lewis when he answered the door. Upon entering, they made a beeline to Lewis's very attractive wife and openly groped and felt her up in Lewis's presence. Lora always accepted their gestures of affection smiling all the while. Lewis could only cringe - mentally and physically. In the case of Jake he had somewhat of a special reason to visit, after all, one of Lewis's and Lora's son's resembled Jake's facial features quite a bit, even if the kid was more coffee colored and nowhere as dark as Jake. The couple's other child strongly resembled the black county Prosecutor. Lewis did mention one time to his wife about her having kids when she hadn't even let him put it in yet. However, she interpreted his comment as him harassing and mentally abusing her. She threatened to tell the detectives, who were constant visitors at their home, and in their bedroom and in Lora too. "Lewis, I can't take such mental abuse from you. Yes, I've mistakenly and accidentally gotten pregnant and had the babies of these men you mentioned. But honey, don't you see, it's all for a good cause. Not only was it for the effort of finding those rapists, but it also took care of my sexual needs in the process. If anything, since my vows are sacred to me, you should be happy that we have a way for me to ease my sexual frustration while at the same time pursuing this investigation." "I_I understand your sincerity Lora dear, but what a- about my sexual frustrations? Y-You could at least let me put it in when you're pregnant?" "Lewis! What kind of husband are you to not help me keep the sworn vow I made? That shows a lack of backbone on your part to not help me keep my word of not letting you put it in until we catch those dirty rapists. Until then, you should be more than willing to beat your meat and be satisfied with what we two are doing. A devoted husband would make the sacrifice and be satisfied. Besides dear, it's not like we aren't getting the family we wanted." "Lora, you know it's been awkward for me, but the babies you've had. T-they've grown on me a-and I-I've tried to be a loving father. B-But..." "And you have sweetie. I couldn't ask for a better daddy for my babies. But go on." Lewis's wife interjected. "I-I guess I should say thank you. But Lora... and I know this is a s-sensitive issue with you, b-but you have to understand the humiliation I'm going through as I face others, especially with other men, black men at that, sexing you all the time and us still being married." "Darling, I am sensitive to your perceived humiliation, but as I strive to catch the scoundrels who abused us, I must stand by my sworn pledge not to share sex with you in the usual conjugal manner until those rapists are brought to justice. As long as you know my intentions are honorable, you should not be concerned about the perceptions of others. "I-I see. Y-You really are taking a hard stand on this." Lewis lamented in a dejected and pathetic tone. "Lewis darling, we all have to have something that we stand for. I want to stand for justice. I don't think you'd respect me if I didn't. Just as I wouldn't respect you if you hadn't been man enough to suck all the dicks that you have. No dear, we both must continue to make sacrifices, even if my sacrifice means me getting all the sex I need in our quest to find justice, and you being limited to jacking off, sucking other men's dicks to identify them, as well as the many loads of cum from my used pussy, and also being a good daddy to any of my accidental pregnancies." "Oh Lora, I-I wish you weren't so graphic about my situation. I-I respect you too, but I-I just wish there was another way. If we never catch the rapists, I-I'll never get a chance to put it in." "Lewis, you can't think that way. It's defeatism in the worse way. You must have faith. But to alleviate your worry, don't fret. When I'm satisfied that there doesn't seem to be any chance of us catching them, I'll let you have some through regular intercourse. But until then, I must keep my sworn vow not to give you some that way." For the countless time, Lewis was spellbound at his wife's resolute tone. CHAPTER 8: LEWIS & LORA DISCUSS THE DETECTIVES SOME MORE "Dear I don't know why you have such a negative attitude about the detectives. They've gone out of their way to help us find suspects. They not only tell you what part of town are good spots to go and offer free head, so you can inspect dicks - that is, as you suck them off - and taste their cum to see if it's similar to the taste of the semen they shot off in your mouth. You should be thankful to them for their help instead of trying to fight them. I hope those few hours in jail helped you see that you should change your poor sourpuss attitude." "T-They just did that to further intimidate me. T- They just want to shame m-me even more. T-They've also threatened to make a record up o-on me a-and report m-me to m-my boss if I-I don't do as t-they tell me. P-Please y- you've got to t-tell them not to do -t-that just because I- I don't do everything t-they t-tell me to do. I-I can't just g-go around s-sucking e-every b-black man's p-penis t- to..." "Stop right there! Do you love me or not?" "O-Of course I do Lora, b-but..." "No buts about it Lewis, the way I see it, if you love me, you'll do what it takes to protect the honor of your wife. The woman you supposedly love. Maybe you need to look up the definition of love. Here let me show you what it says." Lora walked over to pick up the dictionary near by, while Lewis stood by speechless and stunned that his beautiful wife was seemingly indifferent to his feelings or emasculation. "Listen at this darling, "Love is the unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another", unquote. So when you say you love me, it should mean that you aren't concerned about selfish things but what benefits the one you supposedly are in love with. Are you still in love with me?" "W-Why yes Lora, b-but y-you c-can't j-just..." "Then case closed! That means that you will do what it takes to be loyal and benevolent for me, and do so in an unselfish manner. My love for you must also show the same benevolence and unselfishness toward you. To do so, I see it as my duty to help you show the utmost love for me, as well as help you overcome your selfish pride. I'll do so by encouraging the detectives, to keep on encouraging you. It may take a while, but you'll get rid of your silly selfishness and instead focus on the things you should be concentrating on. One of them is interrogating every black dick you can find. I'll do this because I truly love you Lewis, and want you to show me the same type of deep love I have for you." "B-But Lora..." "And speaking of selfishness, look at me. I've had two black babies and am pregnant with a third, in my quest to find those horrible rapists. If I can give that much of myself, I don't see what possible excuse you could have. And by the way, don't even mention the "A" word again. I'm not a killer! I accidentally got pregnant pursuing a just cause. So I feel no shame or remorse for delivering and being the mother of a third beautiful coffee colored child." Abortion was the furthest thing from Lewis's mind at that moment, since it was far too late for that. But his wife's raising of the subject just added to the overall confusion that he was drowning in at the moment. "No, Lewis, I will not stop the two detectives from giving your file to your employer if you stop cooperating with them and me. That's final. You have to get your act together or be ruined professionally, which will ruin our family too." Lewis was still standing looking bewildered at his predicament. As he thought it all over, he didn't see himself coming out on top at all. His wife in supporting the black detectives and their cohorts meant that all the cards were stacked against him. He knew he had to go along with their program. "Lewis, I really do understand the strain and tension this whole unfortunate situation has placed on our marriage. However, there are times when you have to pay a price to achieve justice. In our case, yes we are paying quite a price, but as I see it, we are also being rewarded too." "We are?" Lewis reacted with a surprised look on his face. "Our kids, honey. That's our reward." Lewis said nothing, but remained silent. "Lewis, I know it's hard on you when the detectives come by to fuck me when you're here in the next room." His wife said in a softer tone as she embraced her beleaguered spouse. Lewis, even though very upset about things that seemed to be out of his control, enjoyed the intimate closeness of his adulterous wife. "Sure, they may want you to suck their dicks from time to time, while I'm out interrogating a group of dicks they've found for me. But look at it this way, they deserve a little bit of relief from us. They have needs too, and after all, they've been such a big help to us in finding possible leads." "I wish they weren't so helpful." Lewis replied softly, but curtly. "You just find it hard to accept help don't you honey? But no matter, I'm still proud of how well you've adapted and become more enthusiastic since we first started our campaign." Mentally, Lewis thought the proper word should be 'coerced, intimidated, and beaten into submission' in lieu of adapted. "But Lewis darling, the guys do keep me stretched and well prepared to take on those big black cocks that I have to interrogate in my cunt. Also, their dicks also keep you proficient and in top form too. Remember, the more you suck dicks regularly, the less chance you have of choking on a heavy load of jism if a suspect comes sooner than when you expect him too." Lewis, while resigned to being a cocksucker for his wife's cause, didn't totally feel comfortable discussing this subject with her, even after all that had taken place between them. He changed the subject of their conversation. "L-Lora, there's something I've been meaning to ask you about." "Sure darling, what is it?" "I think the detectives are pimping you out? After all, it is a bit suspicious that I hear them talking about setting you up for a party. A-And the other night I overheard one of them same say something like "$50 a man with unlimited shoot offs in the whore" - those were his words too, and I-I suspect he was talking about you." "He was darling. But, he's doing that for a front, like when you send somebody undercover. However, there is money paid by the Johns, or men, who want some of me. It also gives me the opportunity to interrogate all the dicks at these events they set me up for. The money is secondary to my main purpose of chasing leads, but we do split the proceeds equally. Of course they deduct out of my share any expenses that might be incurred in setting up such an operation for my benefit. I thought that only fair. I usually clear about $15-$20 for each man I suck or fuck." Her husband was shocked once more and stone silent at her revelation. He was literally dumbfounded when his wife further revealed her "interrogative" whoring activity had been ongoing for some time - dating back to 6 months after the rape. EPILOGUE: Lewis and Lora continued the quest to find the rapists who seem to be elusive as ever. Lewis was still hopeful that the quest would end soon, one way or the other. That is with them finding the rapists or his wife declaring the search over. However, his wife Lora seemed more focused on the search for more dicks to interrogate, than anything else. ### END ### Comments? Contact C.D.E. at [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c JULY 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(M+/F, MF, MM, IMPREG) WARNING: DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE STORY: Henpecked Author: C.D.E. Some say I'm a henpecked Pollyanna husband. I disagree with them. Just because I trust my wife, as well as do a lot of the household chores, including the laundry, cleaning bathrooms, washing dishes, and cooking many of the meals, is no reason for people to say I'm henpecked. I see it as natural for a husband to help out around the home. Sure my wife doesn't work, but that doesn't mean she has time to do everything. I don't mind coming in from a busy day at work and helping her out by washing a sink full of dirty dishes and cooking dinner for the family. After all, a marriage is a partnership, isn't it? I admit that sometimes she's waiting for me to come home so she can go out with her girlfriends. Sure, she expects me to cook, clean, and baby-sit our three kids that are ages 2,4, and 6 years old, while she's out. So what about it? After all she's been busy all day taking care of the kids and doing things around the house. Sometimes, I find it difficult to detect what she's done, but she assures me they are things that are important to her. I do notice that she changes the linen on our bed frequently, sometimes 4 or 5 times a week. She doesn't change the other beds nearly as much, or at all, since I do the laundry almost all the time. When I wash the sheets from our bed, I notice they are starchy and stiff in places. Whatever she keeps spilling on them while she's in the bed during the day, has a very musty, somewhat gamy, and slightly stale pungent smell. I asked her about them and she said it was a health food diet drink that she drank to keep her weight under control. She apologized for making such a mess with the concoction in bed. I just found out that our kids occasionally spend a lot of times with their grandmothers while I'm at work. My wife says she needs some time to herself around the house. I can understand that, who doesn't need some time to themselves? Once, a nosy neighbors wanted to know who the different men were that she sees over at my house while I'm at work. I told her my wife manages the house and I was sure they were there to take care of some repair or another, or to see my wife about some family business matter. I told her my wife likes to make sure everything is in tip top condition. The neighbor looked at me strange when I let her know my wife believes in preventive maintenance, and calls out repairmen to check things even when there is nothing wrong with them. Even some of my relatives get on me about being henpecked and being a Pollyanna. They say I let my wife walk over like a doormat and that I'll believe anything she tells me. An uncle once told me I was a fool not to see that none of our kids looked anything like me. I told him just what my wife told me, when I asked her the same exact question about our kids. She said that kids can genetically reach back and look like anybody in the family, up to several hundred years in the past. She showed me some handwritten notes of hers, where she'd done research on heredity and genetics. Her notes indicated exactly what she'd told me. I don't know what more proof anyone can want than the results of such hard research. Just because they don't favor me or my side of the family, or hers either for that matter, is no reason for my uncle to imply that my wife has been unfaithful and birthed children by another man. How low can some people get? He went on to say that they favored three previous boyfriends she used to date. Again, my wife did her research and showed me her notes. They indicated that there is more than an a 85% possibility that somebody you know in a town will favor someone else, including facial resemblance, and hair and eye color. Therefore, it's just a remote matter of chance that our kids favor three of her former boyfriends. I showed him my wife's notes and told my uncle he should mind his own business and stop being a rabble-rouser. It's a shame to have to gather such undeniable facts to prove your relatives wrong, but that's the way it is sometimes. However, I do worry about my wife's safety. You see when she goes out with her girlfriends, their cars keep breaking down and my wife has had to get rides home, very late at night from chivalrous, but strange, gentleman willing to help out a lady in distress. I also worry about her coming home so late at night, generally after 2AM most nights during the week and occasionally even later on the weekends. One time she left Friday night and finally made it home Sunday afternoon around 3PM. She did call several times to let me know everything was alright. She and her girlfriends went away on a weekend shopping trip. My wife said she saw many, many bargains, but declined to purchase anything, since she was trying to stay on her budget. However, she told me she thoroughly enjoyed looking at them. I was proud of her for resisting being an impulse buyer. However, there is one thing I can count on when she comes back home, her amorous nature. She feels so loving that she wants me to suck her juicy snatch before and after she lets me fuck her. She tells me she's so glad to see me is the reason she's so juicy wet when we make love those times. She literally wears me out at these times. Of course, anything over five minutes will do it for me, that's why my oral efforts are a key part of our sex life. MY WIFE GETS A JOB To help out with the family budget, my wife recently got a job. She works at the same company one of her girlfriends is employed at. I think the job for my wife has really worked out well. She has made several new friends at work. I'm glad that she's started associating with more responsible professional people. At least now when she comes in from working late, or being at some after work social, or office party, several of her male co-workers have been nice enough to escort her home. Often one or more of the men from the office would drive her home in our car while another car would follow, to pickup the driver. It sure is good to know your wife is getting a ride home with people she knows, versus some stranger offering her a ride home. Sometimes, my wife is so tired from working late, or having to attend the mandatory office parties, that she staggers into the house, showers and goes straight to bed. She sure must get a lot of job satisfaction from her work, for she has the biggest smile on her face when she's sleeping. She's also very dedicated to her work, for while she's asleep, I often hear her call out the names of many of the men she works with. Usually it's the ones who were nice enough to escort her home. The only thing I don't like about her office is that she can't bring spouses to the social events and parties they have. Oh well, the money she makes is good. I guess one can't have everything. My wife makes friends easily. While she has many girlfriends at work, she told me she has made friends with one of her male co-workers named Lee. He's single and never been married. She says he and her find so much to talk about. She enjoys talking to him and tells me how handsome he is. She told me their relationship is strictly platonic. A "pretend brother and sister thing", in her words. Their friendship formed in part because my wife helped him stop one of the married women in office from continually sexual harassing him. I applauded her efforts, after all the workplace should be free of such stress and tension. My wife and Lee have often stopped off on the way home and had cocktails, and sometimes dinner. They network, chit chat about office stuff, and office politics. I, of course am at home, cooking and cleaning and taking care of our three little ones. Since he's new in town and trying to find a girl, my wife offers her help by showing him the right places to meet proper girls that she thinks might be suitable for him. Apparently he likes her going along with him. She told me this morning, Friday, that they were going to a disco after work and that they also have plans to go to a nearby town and scout out places where he could frequent in his search for the right girl. My wife thought it best they not drive back late at night, since both would be drinking. So they packed bags to stay over. I thought that was a sensible idea since the possibility of getting a traffic ticket for drunk driving is a serious thing. There is one positive aspects to their stopping off for cocktails or helping Lee with his search for the right girl. It's that my wife is hot and ready for sex when she comes in. Her crotch is always very juicy and has that husky smell of lust. In fact she told me she uses a cunt perfume with that same name, that is, `Cunt Lust'. She says she likes the fragrance. As many of you husbands know, it's not always a smart thing to disagree with your wives on some things, like their choice of perfumes and make up, for example. Even though her cunt perfume pleases her, it does have the aroma of funky sex. That is, it smells like she's been having heavy sex. Oh well, if that pleases her, what am I to say. Sometimes you have to do what you have to do to keep the peace around the house. Well anyway, she craves to have me make mouth love to her slick syrupy juicy bushy snatch. She finally invited Lee over and introduced him to me. He was everything she said he was. Tall, muscular and handsome. I thought we three were suppose to go out to dinner together that evening. I had even contacted a babysitter. Then my wife reminded me of something. "Honey I thought you overheard me make reservations for two, Lee and I, not three, sweetie." She said politely. I could see Lee smiling at my blunder. How dumb of me. She's right. I just wasn't thinking. "Plus darling, Lee and I are going by a bar or two and a disco later. You know you don't like to dance much, plus you'd complain about how loud the music is anyway. It's probably better you stay home with the kids. Tell you what honey, the babysitter money you save, I'll let you add that to your allowance for next week. Consider it a bonus from me for failing to make it clear about this evening's arrangements." "Thanks dear." I replied to my wife as she and Lee left. I was still flush in the face at my blunder. But I was thankful my wife did help me save face by taking some of the blame for the mix up. At least maybe I didn't look too dumb in front of her co-worker. You know what they say about first impressions. Anyway, at least I had the consolation of getting the babysitter fee we'd ordinarily have to pay. My wife is truly a gem. As I called the babysitter to cancel her out, I was happily thinking of how I was going to spend the extra $20 my wife was going to add to my weekly $15 allowance. Speaking of finances, that's another reason my relatives say I'm henpecked. Just because my check is totally managed by my wife and she gives me a weekly allowance is no reason to say that. I think she does a good job. Plus, I don't have to worry about household finances in addition to all the other household chores and tasks I do. What do my relatives think I am, superman or something? The kids and I have fun spending quality time together, while their mother was out with Lee. So that they would understand why she was gone, we've agreed to say she's out with him on work business. I put the kids to bed and watched some late TV before turning in. Since it was Saturday night, I stayed up later than usual, however, I turned in around 2 AM. It was 4 AM when I felt my wife crawl in bed beside me. She woke with a kiss. This time even her kiss smelled like her cunt perfume. Maybe it was my being foggy from waking up. "Honey feel how wet and gooey my pussy is from thinking about you while I was out with Lee." She said as she guided my hand to her hot damp cunt. Her dense bush was quite slimy from her pussy fluids. "Here baby, taste this appetizer before you eat my full pussy pie." She cooed as she placed one of her fingers to my lips. As was the routine, she straddled my head with her face toward the foot of the bed and plopped her very damp crotch on my face so that her twat slot found my tongue. A she gyrated her wet snatch over my face and suckling mouth, her sex juices seem to rain down as I swallowed as fast as I could to keep from choking. For some reason, her cunt perfume was stronger tonight and she tasted more full bodied. Tonight she did something she seldom does. She started handling my throbbing prick. It was so good to have her handle it, but the more I feasted on her pussy pie and the more she fondled me, the more I realized I might not be able to hold back. I tried to warn her, but her own orgasm was approaching and even though I tried to push her off me the more she pushed back with her legs. In addition, I know she didn't do it on purpose, but she increased her hand action on my prick. I struggled, but it was no use. Soon she had me at the point of no return. I shot my load as she rode my face to a very stirring orgasm. She gyrated her wet hot sex over my face for at least a minute after she came. I presume she was feeling the afterglow. Another thing, since her thighs were almost closed around my ears, I thought I heard her saying "Oh Lee!" "Oh Lee!" while she was getting off. Later she let me know that was not the case. "Honey, I was saying `oh gee'. That's because your eat out was sooo gooood darling." She cooed to me. "I know you didn't get any tonight, but you can feel solace in knowing you really did my pussy proud tonight." She said as she turned over and went to sleep almost instantly. As she said, I only got a hand job, but I did feel good that I'd pleased her so well. My wife continued to help Lee try and find the right girl for some time. In fact two years from the time I first met him, they were still going out searching on weeknights and weekends. I continued to baby-sit while they did. Then one Saturday afternoon, about three months into their third year of searching, my wife and Lee sat down with me in the dinning room, while the kids were in the family room watching TV. "Honey, look at this. Over here" My wife said as I looked over to where she'd put her hand. My eyes popped opened like an owl, and as wide, as I saw her grasp the outline of a huge erection in Lee's trousers. I was speechless. No words came out of my mouth. "I know you're surprised too dear, and so am I. That is, that he would get that way because of me. I thought he and I were more like brother and sister, and above arousing each other. But apparently his not having a girl to take care of problems like this, is the reason. Look at the size of him honey. He's so much larger than your little thing." My wife said with a gleeful tone in her voice. I cringed at her words. I know she didn't mean to hurt or embarrass me. Her words just came out the wrong way. "But, Lee, I guess in all honesty, I guess I can't blame you. After all, it has been over two years and we haven't found you a girl yet. So that means he hasn't had any in over two years honey. Can you imagine going that long with out some or jerking off?" My wife said with a slight frown on her face. "Actually it's been two years, two months and three weeks." Lee said softly in his masculine voice. "I need sex." He added. I still sat quiet not knowing what to say. "I've read it's not good for men with large cocks to jerk off." My wife said in a serious almost authoritative manner. "You see, it's suppose to have something to do with big cocks needing a warm wet receptacle, like a juicy cunt, so that when they ejaculate, the pressure of them shooting off is cushioned by the back pressure created by their gushing cum bouncing off the interior of a warm wet pussy. Otherwise ejaculating in air, or without the back pressure that's created by being in a pussy, could lead to future health problems for him." Still dumfounded, I again looked at my wife. I knew she did a lot of reading, but I was aghast at such a profound understanding of the topic of which she spoke. "Well Francis honey, Since masturbation is not an option, the only right thing for me to do is to commit incest to solve this problem, since I'm somewhat to blame." My wife said as she kept her hand on the bulge in Lee's pants and gently fingered the outline of his obviously large penis. I knew it had to be at least two, if not three times larger than mine. "I-Incest?" I stammered as I looked from her moving fingers into her dreamy eyes. "Yes dear. I must have sex with Lee. All this time, he's been quietly suffering as we've gone on our searches. I... no we must help him out, that is my pretend brother, in his time of need." She went on to explain herself. Again I was too shocked to speak. As I tried to process all that'd been said and was about to reply, she took Lee's hand and led him to the master bedroom. They were gone so quick that I had to catch up with them. They had even closed the door by the time I'd caught up with them. When I entered, she had his pants down and was sucking on what I have to say is the largest prick I've ever been close to. From her kneeling position, she signaled for me to close the door, which I did. Again, I stood frozen, and again I was speechless. She continues to mouth him a few moments more. I stood there unbelieving what I was seeing. You see, she'd always told me that she just wasn't into sucking a cock, which is what she was doing at that moment, and seemed to be thoroughly enjoying it. She pulled her head away from his very rigid, what appeared to be an eight inch plus, and very thick cock. The area where her mouth had been was very wet and glistening. "Honey, I know incest is wrong, even between `pretend' brother and sister as Lee and I are. But right now, he's suffering and it has spread to me. He's got me aroused too. I'm sooo hot. I've got to have his big thing in me. Here baby, give me a hand, put a rubber on him while I get undressed." My wife said as she threw a packaged condom at me as I stood there. I saw her rush to get out of her clothes while Lee did the same. In no time flat they were both totally nude. I was still standing there with the packaged prophylactic looking and feeling bewildered. "C'mon honey, you know the doctor took me off the pill six months ago for observation of side effects. I'm unprotected." Lee offered to do it himself, but my wife insisted I do it. "No I want you to participate!" My wife said angrily as she looked at me with lust laden eyes. "Honey, this marriage is a partnership. I feel I have to do this for failing to help him find the right girl. If you desert me now, then I know you're not the man I thought you were. How can you stand there and let my pretend brother suffer? Just imagine if your prick was as big as his, can you see how more intensified the throbbing and aching would be? Now, are you ready to help solve the problem or not? Are you a fair weather husband or are you a husband for all seasons when your wife needs your help?" She said defiantly as she stood there with both hands on her hips. The scene was so unbelievable. The silence was deafening as was the heat around my flushed face. Her breast seem swollen with desire. Her nipples hard and protruding. Her lush looming bush accented them as well as her very shapely nude figure. It was obvious my wife was in heat. Standing next to her was her tall rippling muscle laden lover to be and his stout jutting fuck tool. Lee put an arm around her as I stood there thinking. "Well? Are you going to put it on or does he get me unprotected." "U-Un..." "That's right. If you don't put it on, we don't use nothing." My wife spoke defiantly. That did it, I knew I couldn't let this go on without taking action, after all I was not a fair weather husband. I had to show some responsibility here. I tore open the foil package and removed the rubber. Moments later I was leaving the room after doing my duty. "Dear ... Gasp! ... You'd better go ... Gasp! ... check on the kids. We ... Gasp! ... don't want them ... Gasp! ... wandering in here. Anyway ... Gasp! ... it's time for their ... Gasp! ... dinner. In fact why... Gasp! ... don't you take them ... Gasp! ... out for burgers ... Gasp! ... and then go to ... Gasp! ... the park or ... Gasp! ... something. Look over ... Gasp! ... there in my purse ... Gasp! ... and get some money ... Gasp! ..." My wife spoke from the bed as she tried to muffle the joy she was experiencing from the superior sexing her pretend brother was giving her. I did as my wife requested, as she was reveling in the humping Lee was giving her with his huge rigid tool of stiff throbbing meat. I tried not to look as I went in her purse, but it was difficult not to do so. I quietly shut the door tightly as I closed off the scene of my wife committing `pretend incest'. The kids and I were gone slightly over three hours. The whole time I thought about what was going on back at our house in our master bedroom. I know my wife is very altruistic and always wants to help people, but this time I was wondering if she'd gone too far. She had committed adultery pure and simple, even if it was a for a just cause. Sure I could identify with a man being in need if he hadn't had sex in two years. Plus, I know being around a woman as beautiful as my Rose could naturally get a man aroused. The more I thought about the situation, I could see my wife's point that she felt guilt at being the cause of his suffering. By the time I arrived back home, I was feeling more sympathetic toward her actions, even if I wasn't happy about another man, better endowed, giving her better sex than I probably ever could. Just as I was pulling in the driveway he was backing out. He waived as he drove away. He had a big smile. I let the kids go next door to play with the neighbor's children. Inside, my wife was still in the bed, the sheets were damp with fucking juices. "Honey, please forgive me for thinking you weren't going to support me. It really pleased me the way you put the rubber on Lee's dick." My wife told me as she leaned over and kissed me on the side of my face. "Darling, I'm so juicy down there, just like when I get when I think about coming to your tongue when I'm out with the girls. It would give me such a thrill if you'd suck my pussy now. I really need it." "B-But..." I protested. "I know what you're going to say honey. But please show me you still love me even though another man has truly fucked me in a way you never have. Please. It would mean so much to me. Put aside your thoughts of manly pride and just add to what Lee had done so well. Anyway, he did use a condom. He just stirred up my cunt perfume and made it all frothy down there. That's all. Now, Don't say a thing, just come here and love me with that beautiful tongue of yours. I know people say you're henpecked because you're a good husband and not a macho asshole. A good husband also makes sure his wife is well pleased in bed, no matter who does it or how it's done. That's what being a good hubby and a man is all about darling." Her kind words made my self esteem go through the roof. How could I not do what she desired. As I sucked her wet gooey gamy muff, my wife had two very rousing orgasms. The second one was the most intense I ever remember giving her. She really had my face in a vise grip of her thighs when she came. After she settled down, she had some more news for me as well as a more practical reason for me to eat her out. "It busted!" I yelled. "Yes it did honey. It must've been after he came in me the third time before either of us realized it. Sure, I tried to towel as much of his cum out as I could. He put on another rubber and the same thing happened when he came the fifth time. This time he'd just laid on top of me with his big thing plugging my pussy tight as a wine keg, so we weren't aware of the ruptured rubber until he pulled out about 20 minutes later. We were both worried about the consequences of what'd happened, but he said that he'd heard that if someone sucked a pussy real good, most if not all the sperm would be pulled out, and that the sucker's saliva would act as an effective spermicide." I asked her why she chose to fool me and most of all why didn't he do the honors instead of waiting for me to return home. "Well darling, he said I had up to two hours for the pussy sucking treatment to work, and..., well I told him that since he was so tired from having worked so hard in putting cum in me, I thought it only fair for you to share the work, you know getting it out. Besides, that cunt perfume makes my cunt look and smell just like it did after Lee finished fucking me. Raw, red, oozing, and bruised with almost the same identical fragrance." We continued talking for a long while. I let her know I was quite upset at being fooled by her. We also covered what we'd do if there was the possibility of a pregnancy. "Honey, I hope you don't force me to think about an abortion, because if I am pregnant, I choose to have it. You see, I sinned because I felt guilt at having caused him suffering for two years. The rubber breaking was my way of being punished. I therefore must pay the piper. I will bear his child if I'm pregnant." I told my wife I applauded her for being so noble and her desire to atone for her sin, even though there was an extenuating circumstance. However, I let her know, I would forgive her for having an abortion. I also let her know that while the rest of our kids didn't favor each other or anyone else in either our families, this one would more than likely resemble Lee. I tried to lay it out what embarrassment it could cause each of us, including Lee. "I understand your concern darling, but as the bearer of this child, it is I who will carry the greater shame. You and Lee will carry your share, but not near as much as I. Anyway, darling, you said you were a husband for all seasons, not just a fair weather husband, I hope you meant it. That is, that you'll stand by me in my time of shame. The shame I'll show when I go out shopping with another child that's carrying your name, but who everyone will know that is really Lee's. I can hear the busy bodies at the office talking." A YEAR LATER I didn't want to do it, but my wife had me go with her to the office to show off our new son, which my wife named Lee the Second. Her reason. The best way to head off malicious gossip is to have a strong offensive. Show them that you know that Lee is the real father and let everyone gawk and get it out of their system. That way the rumor burns itself out." I marveled at my wife's logic, but wondered how I'd hold up in she and Lees' domain. I ended up doing okay. But my wife and Lee did much better than expected. They even had me take a picture of them with her holding Little Lee II. People in the office gave me many strange looks. I tried to avoid their eyes as much as I could. After the visit to show off the baby, my wife prided me on being so brave and told me she loved me more than anything. That really made me feel good. THE SEARCH GOES ON Lee still wanted my wife's help and she indicated she felt an obligation to do so, after all, they were still pretend brother and sister. He thinks he's so sly. I finally could see he was trying to steal her from me, since he was having problems finding a girl. Hey I'm no fool. I know when I'm out classed in the prick department. I had to show what I could do to hold my own in a head to head with him. The only difference is that while he used his dick head, I gave head. I had to show him that I was willing to get down and dirty to save my wife and marriage. I wasn't going to let him steal my woman, just because he couldn't find one after looking for over two years. So what, if she'd inadvertently had a baby from him. Hey, accidents happen. He used his good looks, muscles and his big dick. Therefore I had to used what worked best for me, my flitting tongue, lips, and good suction. Sure I might have to suck up his spent cum to prove my love for my wife. In fact it was because of this that I told him he was too chicken to eat her pussy after it was all creamy. He conceded that when it came to doing that, he let me know I was the better man. I knew I scored points with my wife, cause she said she'd never leave me cause I was just too good a sucker. I beamed with pride as she said so in front of Lee. My wife was now back on the pill. One time after he'd fucked her for about an hour straight, I followed up by diving right in her messy muff which he'd help make sloppy. I brought my wife to a rousing orgasm. She really got off better and louder than the three he'd given to her while I was waiting my turn to show my stuff. It just goes to show that the end game is what it's all about. As I victoriously raised up from her gamy well sucked snatch, My face was covered with their frothy syrupy milky melded cunt sex juices. I saw him looking strangely at me with a smirking smile. I knew that was just a defensive look to save face. He knew I'd bested him. FIVE YEARS LATER I've still prevailed after all this time. Lee keeps trying to steal my wife since he can't find a girl. Another way I've gotten the beat of him was one time when he came by the house to pick my wife. They again going out on one of their continuing searches, for the elusive girl for him. Well she was caught up in traffic and wasn't going to be home for a couple of hours. She had the kids with her. While he waited for her, he and I watched TV. He'd been out of town on business for two weeks. He let me know he was quite horny and taunted me that he was sure he could talk my wife into giving some tonight on their date if they didn't find him a girl. "She might yield into temptation and give you some, but she'll always come home to me." I replied confidently and smugly. Lee and I were adversarial in a friendly manner, but not combative. I was glad, after all he has about six inches of height and fifty pounds over me. Well like I was saying, he was quite horny. As he talked about sexing my wife, I noticed he got an erection in his pants. As usual, his erection was quite noticeable. I don't have that problem since my much smaller prick never caused such obscene images. I laughed at his plight. He kept telling me how good it was going to be to soak his dick in my wife's lush warm pussy. Well, the more he talked the hornier he got. I think my teasing was getting to him when he told me "You keep on and you gonna help your wife get some of the cum outta my dick." Well my wife finally made it home and they left for their continuing girl search for him. However, I chuckled to myself as I was babysitting our six kids. I thought how I'd beat Lee at his own game. I hadn't planned for it to happened, but when he threatened to make me suck his dick before my wife got home, I taunted him and made him think he was scaring me into sucking him off. I ended up drawing two heavy loads of hot viscous creamy cum off his balls. Two less loads he won't be able to shoot into my wife's juicy hot cunt. I don't think he understood how I'd tricked him. I'm not a cocksucker, but in winning one's wife back, everything is fair. Isn't it? Sure my wife feels sorry for him and is still trying to help him find a girl, that's the main reason she's accidentally had two more kids from him over the last five years. However, I don't let that bother me. I know I have the edge. After all, she's had a total of three kids from him, but hasn't left me yet. And every time he fucks her, she always comes home to me. So what if her pussy is dripping with his and her fuck juices? She loves the kind of mouth love she knows I'm good at. I don't know what more proof Lee wants that she truly loves me. But Lee, the idiot he is, doesn't see that he can't prevail against the kind of love and sex I use to keep my wife from being stolen by guys like him. Plus, I have the last laugh, cause of the money he's put in my pocket, that is, due to the three tax deductions he's given me - Lee II, Leahann, and Leeza. I'm telling you, some guys just don't get it. ###END###

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright MAR 2010 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form or sold for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(Cuck, M+/F, MM, MF, Incest, Impreg, FemDom, MDom) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Title: Saga of A Phantomville Relationship Author: C.D.E. STORY# 2010-05 CAST: Sam - Husband Pam - Sam's Wife Pam's Dad Mr. Smith Pam's Mother - Mother Smith My name is Sam and my wife's name is Pam. We have been married for over 15 years now. We live in a town called Phantomville. It is a lovely place and has a rich history of sexual liberalism. When we first met, Pam was a very beautiful woman, and still is. She has hazel eyes, is a brunette, and has a classic hour glass figure, despite the number of babies she's had. To say she is attractive is an understatement. She is simply voluptuous. Other men have always been after her and that is something I've had to deal with from the time we first met and throughout our marriage. I was smitten with her from the first time I met her. To my utter surprise, she seemed to take to me also. I say that because compared to the brawny tall handsome guys she was dating at the time, I was a short unassuming, nerdy, and no where near handsome, guy. She seemed to like it even more that I was a virgin also. We grew closer and eventually became engaged. It was then that she got me to commit to save my virginity for her until we wed. We were both 22 at the the time. Because I had never had such a beautiful girl who thought so much of me, I promised her I would. Along with that promise was my sworn commitment that I would save myself for her and would only have sex by masturbating myself for relief, until we were married. The commitment was sort of a moot point. I say that because one of the reason it was easy for me to promise her I would stay celibate is that my family, really my mother, has had me wearing one of those electronic male chastity devices since puberty. It was mother's wish that I also marry a virgin. Generally, a family desires for their daughters to marry as virgins, never their sons. But my mother, who is a bit bossy, as well as dominant, made the decision, over my father's objections, that I was to be an exception. Dad could never stand up to mother, and always ended up conceding to her demands. The only good thing about wearing the rather small but effective device was that it was barely noticeable and the control it exerted was by through small, but effective, electrical shocks that got my attention if I tried to tamper with it or stroke my erection. Mother did let me masturbate on a fairly regular schedule, but my 'fluid releases' her words were always under her strict supervision. Since mother really liked Pam, and thought she was the right girl for me, she let her have the pass word to, my under-lock-and-key genitals. Pam wanted a June wedding, which meant that for more than 10 months, I'd have to wait before I could have intercourse with the girl of my dream. In the mean time, I would have to pull myself off when I needed relief. Pam loved the idea of having her fiance's cock and balls under control. And she was very thrilled observing and supervising me jerking off. I was already accustomed to mom's oversight, so it wasn't that difficult adapting to Pam watching me. Since Pam was not a virgin, and had been having sex frequently with several of her tall brawny handsome men friends now and while we were going steady. She and her family decided that she would continue to do so. I was a little bit upset about this, but Pam assured me that it was just sex with them and that she and I had a truly loving and emotional soul mate relationship. That made me feel much better about the whole situation of her being free to fuck around and me having to be faithful and only able to masturbate that is, when she or mother permitted me. Pam was also having intercourse on a routine basis with her dad too, who was also tall muscular and handsome. I learned that her mom was okay with them doing that since her dad needed sex fairly frequently. And as I learned from the family, sex between adult family members was not unlawful in Phantomville. It was Pam's dad who insisted that I watch them have sex. I say watch, but he actually had me participate too. He ordered me to make sure Pam's pussy was well lubricated for his big dick. I was directed to lick her snatch slit something I'd never done before meeting her. She taught me how to lick her pretty pussy. Even though her dad insisted I do so, it always seemed unnecessary, as she was always naturally wet and ready without my tongue action, but nevertheless he insisted, and I did as I was told. He also demanded I lick and wet the head of his blood gorged dick head before guiding his lengthy magnificent cock into her juicy hairy gash. I learned a lot about sex from Watching Pam and her dad have sex. Her dad would also have me hold his big balls as they fucked. Over time, he next had me lick his balls also as they were coupled. Then sometime later, well actually maybe the third time I was with them when they had sex, it was Pam's idea for me to be on my back, face up, underneath their coupled genitals, as they vigorous fucked doggy style. I have to admit, it was quite an education from that vantage point. I got to see everything, even if it I got splattered with the slimy fluids of their heated coupling. Also Pam's dad's loosely hanging big hairy balls were constantly bouncing all over my face. However, I must admit this position made it easier for me to lick and suck on his soft nut sac as he desired and demanded of me. In addition, after her dad would ejaculate in her and pull out of her now sloppy leaking gash, he would just guide his softened slimy dick right into my mouth for a quick clean up. Of course when he would pull out, there would be the splatter of large slimy globs falling on my nose and mouth. And then since I was already in place, Pam would lower her messy oozing cunt right over my mouth for me to suck her clean of her dad's very copious and thick cum load. I guess I was too surprised as well as too timid, or simply too intimidated to refuse them. And the other odd thing, while I should have perceived that something such as this was a really nasty thing to do, but because it was Pam and Her dad doing this, in my mind it seemed that I shouldn't resist but do as I was told. Sucking Pam's cunt clean after she had sex with her dad was something he insisted I do. I gave no argument, since he had such an authoritative air about him and as I said, he easily intimidated me anyway. And to my surprise, the taste of her dad's slimy dick, and her even slimier, gooey oozing cunt, was not that unpleasant. Pam always seemed very pleased at my submissive sheepish response to her dad's demands when they had sex and I was a coerced participant. One night after he gave his daughter a rousing session of coitus, Pam's dad said to me "Sam, my boy, you do a mighty fine job of cleaning up after a good fuck. Plus I like the way you licked and sucked my dick clean." I said nothing but blushed deeply as I was wiping my face clean from it being coated from my cleaning Pam's messy muff. Pam's dad continued speaking. "Pam, you ought get him to suck your sloppy pussy after your other studs fuck you. I think he's ready. Yes daddy, I think so too. And I certainly will let him eat my creamy hair pie out when my men friends fuck me. Why of course he should, after all she is Sam's girl and who else should suck some other man's sperm out of her other than him. Interjected Pam's mother, who often watched her husband fuck his daughter, while I participated. For some reason, I'd never thought of being a clean up cunt sucker for Pam's other men friends. So I was completely speechless when that subject was not only brought up but seemed to be approved and decided all without any consent on my part. Pam's dad went on to tell me in candid terms that he thought it was best for a "little dick" fellow like me to be good at "eating creamy pussy" so as to give Pam what my 'bird size dick' couldn't do. Before Pam and I left to go see a movie, her dad let me know that he wanted to teach me how to suck his dick off all the way, to completion that is, and be good at milking his dick too. Pam responded to the puzzled look on my face by saying,"Milking is slowly sucking his dick to get out the last bits of ball cream. Pam and I left for the movies. "Oh Sam, it would mean so much to me for you to do for me and the guys what you did when daddy and I fucked. It felt so good when you suck his cum out of my pussy". Said Pam as we drove along. I let her know that I thought it was one thing to do what I did for her and her dad, but that doing it for her other studs would make me seem even more unmanly. "Sam darling, remember what daddy told you about that?" "Uh-uh, o-okay, Pam I-I have to admit he's right. I-I'm not as m-much of a man t-that can satisfy you as y-you're use to being with. B-But I-I just d-don't... w-well it-it's just the principal of p-putting my m-mouth o-on your other men's c-cocks a-and eating their c-cum." "It would mean you really love me and show them that even though you can't fuck me as good as they can, that you are a force to be reckoned with, because you love me." She replied. I had to admit to her that I never thought about it like that. Well, since Pam made such a strong case for me being her cunt cleaner and why it would send the right signal to the men that she used just for sex relief, I half heartedly agreed to do as she desired of me. It made her so happy to hear my acquiescence to her. It made me happy to hear her happy, even if I had a sort of bad feeling of what her happiness was doing to my dignity as a man. And Pam also pressed on until I reluctantly committed to her that I would at least suck him off to completion once just to see what it was like. I reiterated to her that I was doing so only because of my respect for her dad and my love for her. "I know you do Sam darling, and I love you very much to darling. And Sam, just as daddy said, it will do you a world of good to taste his fresh jism as well as the cum of all the guys I fuck, dripping out of my pussy right into your sucking lips. I know you like the taste of me that way, so don't try to lie to me." She said with a smug smile. It seemed as if she was looking right through me, so I knew I had to be honest with her. Therefore, I confessed to her that her cum filled jism drenched slimy pussy was savory after her dad fucked her. "Thanks honey. And don't you worry, you'll like my frothy soupy snatch just as much after my other real men fuck me too." She replied. As we neared the theater, she told she was so thrilled about me agreeing becoming a full fledged cocksucker and that she was also excited that I would be eating a lot of her studs' sperm from her wet used snatch. The movie was okay. Afterwards we got a snack and headed back to her house. All this time we talked about our relationship. It became readily apparent to me that Pam would continue to have her real men in our relationship, probably even after we were married and that it was best for me to get adjusted to that. Six months later, this became very clear to me that I had been correct. Because by then, not only had I come to know all 15 of her regular fuck buddies, but had sucked and tasted their semen from her frequently fucked cunt many times, as well as sucked all their dicks. Many times as part of their foreplay, and after-play too, as well to completion, many times when they couldn't find her to shoot off their hot sticky pent up cum into. They often looked me up to get blow jobs on demand. I have to say, I have become quite accustomed to the taste of cum, both freshly spurted from dicks as well as that deposited deeply in Pam's frequently sought after pussy. Pam's dad, who instructed me on the art of sucking and milking dicks, was very pleased at my progress and skill under his direct training and tutelage. Out of respect for him, I had originally only planned to do him just that one time. And in an attempt to retain what I thought would be some of my manly dignity, I had planned to tell him that I was not going t do it again. However, he was too smart for me. He had me undress to suck him off and secretly made a video of the the entire scene - from start to finish. The video showed my smallish prick getting very erect and staying that way the entire time my mouth was laving, sucking and lapping his very handsome cock and balls. You see, for a very long time, I sort of couldn't help admiring cocks of size. And with me lately getting so acclimated to the slimy creamy taste of spent jism, I knew I had a weak case for resisting what was being demanded of me to taste fresh jism, but I tried anyway. The next time he asked me to suck his dick I politely refused and that's when he showed me his video proof that even if I didn't like sucking his dick, my body did. From that time on, he never took me saying no to him, and eventually - well by the third time, I just gave up trying to refuse him. My mouth became a regular place for him to ejaculate into - often with Pam and her mother watching me get mouth fucked and take and swallow his copious loads. Pam and her mom both told me I looked so "cute" swallowing freshly spurting jism. And they were both amazed and praised me for not getting choked and gagging when that big dick was stuck so far to the back of my throat and was ejaculating. Pam took several pictures, and some videos too, of me sucking her dad off when he was training me to be a cocksucker. At first I was thoroughly ashamed of her doing that, but since her dad wanted her to do it, there was nothing I could do about it, except get use to it. I did. MOTHER SMITH AND I TALK One time when Pam's mother and I were drinking coffee, while Pam was upstairs getting ready for our date, she placed her hand on mine warmly and spoke to me. "Sam, Pam is so fortunate to have found a nice boy like you for her future husband. It's not easy for a wanton slut like my daughter to find such wonderful husband material as you. Your wonderful mother really raised you right. You're such a nice mama's boy and so well molly coddled and obedient too, not to mention being good at domestic chores and cooking too. "Why my husband raved last week about the delicious meal you cooked him last Friday night when he came over to spend some time in bed with you. He said you fed him a great meal and then you fondled and sucked his balls and dick and then you gave him a great fuck as he plowed your ass with his member and busted his nuts real good in your sweet bottom. He really is proud to have a sissy bitch boy like you as a son-in-law." "T-Thank you ma'am, mother did teach me well. A-And I-I really respect your husband... A-And am glad he showed me t-that I-I would like h-having dicks in my mouth a-and taking in m-my bottom a-and having sex l-like a woman. I-It's nice being under him a-and being shagged by him a-and to feel him thrusting his h-handsome dick in me. A-And I just love milking his dick after he fucks me. I-I know it-it's a-a bit perverted, but mother says it's good to do that to show him my gratitude." "She is so right, and here in Phantomville, you can take that word 'perverted' out of your language. As you said, you were showing him your gratitude for him fucking a pantywaist pussy whipped wimp like you. That's all." Y-Yes ma'am, I-I see. T-That's good to know. I-I'll have to remember that. "You do that Sam and not let it bother your conscious in the least. And another thing Sam, it's so wonderful that you'll stick your tongue in Pam's pussy that's been fucked by a dozen horny men and be perfectly content to suck out all their slimy deposits and lap her fuck hole and bush clean. And then if she's too tired or just is not in the mood for you, and if she permits you, you'll take out your straining throbbing little prick and gladly beat your meat for the woman you love and not think bad about it will you?" "Oh no, for I know that it's her pleasure and satisfaction that is important. I do what she needs me to do, because I don't want her to think I'm selfish." "And you're not dear, you're one of the nicest and sweetest pantywaist pussy whipped husbands a girl could want. I think it so great that you don't mind being a door mat, put down, walked on, belittled and ridiculed by my daughter. And I just love the way you take the whippings she gives you, that really make feel very proud to have a son-in-law who is spineless and masochistic and lets his wife bruise and blister his naked ass when she has the urge to punish you. And all you do is accept it without question. You are amazing Sam, simply amazing." "T-Thank y-you very much for those k-kind compliments Mother Smith. Y-You're making me blush. I-I try very hard to please Pam and to do what makes and keeps her happy. Getting whipped is a-a little tough a-and it hurts, b-but k-knowing that she wants me to-to suffer for h-her does really make it seem worthwhile to endure the pain." "You are a brave husband Sam, and a very dedicated one too. By the way, when is the last time she's let you put your little thing in her very popular pussy?" "I-It's been about 8 months. S-She's been s-so busy putting o-out for h-her real men c-cause they a-are always so horny, s-she doesn't seem have much free time for me. I-I understand her being so tired after being fucked so much." "It's so remarkable that you're satisfied to repeatedly put your face in her slimy sloppy fucked hairy crotch and mouth clean her up to her heart's content, and then be satisfied beating your meat for her to watch you do it." "I's not that bad, I know she likes seeing me do it, s-so that's important to me too." "As it should be Sam, as it should be for a loving husband. And when she does let you have some, do you still have to wear a rubber, like you have for the whole of your marriage?" "Oh yes ma'am. That's one of her basic rules. She adores me wearing a rubber, even though she doesn't require any of the men that fuck her to wear them. She sees it as insult to ask her real men to wrap their fine dicks in latex. She thinks it's a husband's job to worry about her stud's sperm in her pussy. All she wants her real men to do is fuck her and fill her and let their hot abundant sperm gusher and spew with abandon." "Sam, it is so commendable that you signed a pre-nup agreement taking full responsibility and relieving any men that fucks your wife of paternity liability, and that you will accept any child she delivers as legally yours. And further more, that you will provide and care for them as your own, without question." "T-Thank you again Mother smith f-for your kind words. I-I understand t-that my wife h-has her needs, t-that is to feel h-her cunt flooded with her real men's plentiful semen. S-So just as s-she got me to see, a-and s-so did mother, t-that as her husband, what truer demonstration of love than to commit in writing that I'm serious about keeping her my wife a-and making this m-marriage work, regardless of whether h-her real men f-fuck her a-and even may inseminate her." "Well said Sam, and again, extremely commendable. And I must praise you for doing what few men would do for the love of their women, that is, suck the dicks of not only the men fucking her, but strangers too, to help provide for his sluttish wife and the many children she's has by her other men - her so called real men." "I don't really deserve a lot of praise for that mother Smith, if anything I should praise Mr. Smith for the potential he saw in me to be a good dick sucker and to train me to be so skillful at taking large dicks in my mouth and to draw out their hot tasty semen to swallow. And I also must thank him for training me to have intercourse with horny men so they could have pleasure from my ass pussy. And I just adore men asking me for pussy. And as far as me making money with my mouth and ass cunt, I just see that as being a responsible husband and trying to be a good provider for my family." "Even if someone says you're just a fag cock whore?" "Mother Smith, it's honest work, and it gives me satisfaction giving satisfaction to men who have a hard problem for which they are willing to pay me to resolve. And I just love taking the creamy gooey solutions they spurt in me." REFLECTIONS ON MY FATHER-IN-LAW It was about 5 or 6 years into our marriage, when one Saturday afternoon that Pam's mom called and asked if I could come over and babysit her husband's cock as he watched the afternoon football game, as she was going out for a long while. You see reader, as I mentioned earlier, Pam's dad has a rather prodigious sexual appetite, and likes for someone around to fondle or suck on his admirable member when he's watching TV, especially sports games. I've done it on several occasions, so I'm not a stranger to knowing his needs. After arriving and greeting him, he soon directed me to my position on the floor before him and his exposed genitals. I began doing what I know he wanted me to do for the next few hours - fondling, licking, and suckling his dick meat and hairy balls. Several times he has me wear lacy panties, a sexy camisole, a frilly garter belt and pink or lavender fishnet nylons. As you readers know by now, it was really Pam's dad that introduced me to cock cleaning, cunt cleaning, and cocksucking, as well as helping me to gain an appreciation of being an overall cock handler, dick taker, and cum sucker. All in all, I have to say, I respect her dad very much, even if he tends to be very authoritative, and well, dictatorial, especially with me. He easily intimidated me at every turn, but yet made me see and even feel that it was right and natural for him to do so, since, in his words, I was a "pipsqueak" or a "pantywaist" and not a real man as he was. And I might add, as the men that Pam was always putting out for. He always reminded me that a real man wouldn't lick dicks, suck his girl's used pussy, especially after it was fucked by somebody else, or get along so well eating jism. He constantly made me feel embarrassed and inadequate as a man, but yet had a way of doing so such that it was so natural for him to put me down as well as for me to accept such derogatory humiliation and be comfortable with him doing so. The truth of the matter is that I never lost any respect for him for his ridiculing treatment of me, but actually appreciated him more for the man he was. In the same way, I never lost any love for Pam either, despite all that she has collaborated, or maybe even colluded with her family that she has subjugated me too. And in the same way, my love has actually grown for Pam the more challenges I over come that she subjects me to. Having her love, as unorthodox as it may be by other's standards, is something I treasure, even if I have to pay the price do. Pam's dad, Mr. Smith, has such a way about him that he easily influences you to do things that you probably wouldn't normally do. Pam also seems to have gotten some of this personality attribute from her dad also. Take for instance the time that Pam and her dad came over to my house to have dinner with me, my mother and my dad. During the course of conversations, the sexual activities between Pam and I, as well Pam's dad and her was openly discussed. My mom and dad were totally embarrassed and not accustomed to such talk. Yet, Pam's dad got me to agree with him that he was indeed a mentor to me and that it was very beneficial for him to train me to be a cocksucking, cum sucking, cuckold future husband for Pam. "And Sam can really suck my pussy clean of the thick frothy goo my men shoot off. And as much as I like to fuck, no matter if it's one guy or a gang bang, your son has been such a darling by going down on me and cleaning up the mess with his wonderful mouth." Pam said addressing my mom. "And he does a great job as a pussy for me and my buddies' dicks too. He's learning to be a top notch cocksucker." Pam's dad injected in the conversation. My dad, who is mild mannered and unassuming as I am, was beet red as he blushed from hearing such talk at our dinner table. Mother, on the other hand seemed extremely interested in all that was being discussed and proudly agreed with Pam that masturbation was proper for me and that she had encouraged me to "jack off" in my teen years for relief and to not get girls in trouble. I was so embarrassed when mother revealed that she had even given me a hand job on occasion, and frequently made me jerk off in her presence so that she could be sure that I had gotten "some of the fire out of my system" so to speak, before I went on a date. Again, both dad and I were flushed red in the face from the discussion that was taking place. Mother showed very strong support to Pam's desire that I remain a virgin until our wedding night. "And there is no reason why my baby can't continue to pull his peter until then." Mother added in a firm tone. "And I think it's so wonderful of you to mentor him for his future role as a cuckold husband and for broadening his sex education." Mother said as she addressed Pam's dad. "And Sam, I'm very proud that you've become a skilled cocksucker and cunt sucker and are agreeable with the taste of jism. I guess I've always knew you were a bit girlish and am delighted that you are about to marry into a family and become the kind of son-in-law they desire and the type of husband Pam needs." Mother added. Pam's dad it truly amazing, I say that because as the evening wore on, Pam's dad seduced mother right in front of dad. With his masterful almost hypnotic control, he had us all undress and watch as he had a long and sloppy session of intercourse with my mother. Dad was truly offended, but like me, was also easily intimidated. He obediently sat down where Pam's dad had ordered him to. Pam and I sat nearby and she handled my cock as I caressed and fingered her moist muff. As The session went on, she had me go down on her. Which I was happy to do. It had been a while since I had mouthed her muff when it wasn't flooded with her dad's or one of her real men's semen. While I had grown fond of sperm flavored pussy, having it straight and hot was also good too. About midway through their fuck session, Pam's dad had my dad come over and hold his balls, as mother continued getting a royal fucking, which apparently she was enjoying very much. She too joined in welcoming dad to hold the balls of a "real man" - her words. Dad did as he was told, but he was deeply flushed with shame. After Pam's dad had gotten off twice in mother, he called me over to mouth clean his very slimy dick. He then directed dad to mouth clean the frothy oozing mess that was mother's hairy crotch. Dad seemed alarmed and even stood as if to show defiance. It was then that mother spoke. "Stop standing there looking foolish. You already suck my pussy a lot. The only difference now is that it's got the spend of a real man in it. So get over here and do as the man has told you, otherwise I'll cut you off and you'll get no pussy for weeks. Plus I'll beat your ass too!" Mother shouted in an irritated tone of voice. Dad knew what he had to do and sheepishly did so. With an obvious broken spirit after such a strong put down by his wife. Without a word in response, he went over, knelt, looked hard at the slimy gloppy mess before his face, sighed noticeably, and gingerly stuck his tongue and gingerly began licking up some of the abundant gooey pussy fuck gunk. "Go on dad, it-it's not so bad once you get into doing it." I said as I pulled my mouth briefly away from Pam's dad's hairy balls. "Heed your son's words dear, as I'm going to be fucking more big dick real men from now on, you might as well get use to doing clean up to show me that you love me while I share my pussy with other men, "REAL MEN"." I heard another sigh from dad before mother pulled his face closer and tightly to her drippy messy hairy snatch and closed her legs around his head. I could sense that dad knew that he had no choice in the matter, since he knew it was no use in trying to change mother's mind if she set her mind to doing something. He knew he would just have to adjust and make the best of it all. After than evening, Pam's dad arranged for many men to visit mother for sex. Mother gladly accommodated them all, including groups of as many as 10 men who she delighted in permitting them to pull a train on her. Mother became Pam's dad's whore, and dad resigned himself to doing whatever was required of him to stay in favor with mom, the woman he loved dearly. Pam's dad trained my dad as he had me, and in a relatively short time, dad also became a skilled cocksucker. And over time, like me, dad also came to enjoying being ass fucked when it was required of him by horny men. Both mother and Pam were very pleased that he and I were very comfortable and well adjusted to being "Pussies" for men's throbbing hard dicks. Even though I was Pam's husband, I was also a sissy whore for Pam's dad when he desired it of me. In fact when Mr. Smith would send men over to fuck mother and dad, he always had dad bring the money that the Johns left back to him personally. Before Dad was fully whoring for Pam's dad too, he was so ashamed and embarrassed to have to bring over the whoring profits of his wife and handing it all over to Pam's dad. Many times, in addition to dropping off the proceeds, my dad had to drop to his knees and suck Pam's dad's dick in front of other Smith family relatives. It was only after dad had sucked out and swallowed Pam's dad's heavy thick load of hot jism, would he be given he and mother's 25% share of their whorish earnings. Mother was thrilled to be getting whatever pay Pam's dad sent her, as she often said she was already paid many times over by the wonderful fuckings she was getting. Over time, dad came around to that same conclusion, as he got to delight in being an a willing and eager recipient of many hard dicks that fucked his face and ass. EPILOGUE Pam and I have 8 kids now. The first 1st was by her dad. Her dad's 'grandson/son' favors him strongly. None of our other children are biologically mine, but the products of her fucking her real men - many of whom I've sucked off and been fucked by too. ###END### COMMENTS: [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c March 2005 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form or sold for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. STORY CONTENT: Cuckoldry, MMM+/F, MMM+/M, Mdom, Fdom, TV, Male Feminization, Mind Control WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Father & Son Cuckolds Part 4 By C.D.E. Before you read this story, please heed the story content bar above, as well as the general content caution warnings. This story is probably not everyone's cup of tea for a cuckold theme. ABSTRACT: When Victor begins dating the vivacious Vy, he had no idea of the path that he and his family would end up on, after being introduced to, and then persuaded, then manipulated, and then totally controlled by his future in- laws. Victor also finds out his mother is not the woman he thought she was. His mom is not only tempted by the lewd temptation cast her way by Vy's handsome black stepfather, but is willing and eager sexual prey for him. That leads to her aiding Victor's new father-in-law to subjugate not only her son, Victor, but his dad as well, in a most interesting, but degrading manner. This story is focused on the ordeal of father and son under the manipulation, psychological domination, and outright subjugation under their wives and their in-laws. And yes, our favorite relationship counselor has a key role in the action here. Dr. Judy is very much in evidence after being brought in by the cunning Mr. Jones, Vy's step-father. CAST: Husband - Victor Victor's wife - Vy Vy's Father - Mr. Jones Vy's Mother - Mrs. Jones Victor's mother and father (((DAD & I AFTER OUR FIRST DAY OF WHORING)))) Dad and I were somewhat tired after we each had sucked our last client of that first day, that is, as suck whores for Mr. Jones. We were back home in the kitchen sipping drinks as we talked. It was just us two in the house. Mother was still out turning tricks for Mr. Jones and probably wouldn't be in until the wee hours of the morning. Even though it was obvious neither of us were happy at the idea about having to whore for Mr. Jones, we both had to admit it had indeed been educational to have been exposed to such a variety of hard dicks in one day. We both slowly began to talk of our experiences of earlier in the evening. As we sipped our drinks, we were soon eagerly exchanging comments about the size, and length of the dicks that were shoved in our mouths as well as the taste and amounts of the many men's hot slimy gushing jism. We also spent a lot of time discussing the size of the men's balls and nut sacs and how it felt to handle, kiss, lap and suckle their velvety softness of them for their owners. Another common thread in our conversation was how well endowed all of the 40 black men were who used our mouths as cum dumps. Some of the customers were not rough as they mouth fucked us, but vigorous - almost like our mouths were like cunt holes, nothing more. The others were very comely and encouraged us to move our mouths up and down their large poles as we sucked and drew out their hot ropy slimy semen. We both had similar experiences with our "Tricks". "You know something, son, the first time one of them used me a bit roughly and literally fucked my face, I was a bit scared, but I could tell my throat muscles were flexible and accustomed from the couple of fellows that'd done me like this way before. You know, some of the Jones Brothers' buddies. I guess training is good, even cocksucking training. "Well anyway, when the man ejaculated, I swallowed his thick cum easily and seemed to anticipate his moment of spurting easily. After four more times of being treated by other men like that, I was very much at ease in being mouth fucked so soundly. Actually, I-I guess you might say I even felt pretty proud of myself for being able to take their stuff so easily." After dad's admission, I eagerly chimed in with a parallel of his experience, for the same situations had occurred with me. Blushing, I too admitted my pride in being able to accommodate the well hung customers and take their forcefully discharged heated sperm. We recounted that of the 40 men between the two of us, he had been vigorously mouth fucked by 6, and myself, 4. As we refilled our glasses, the drinks had us feeling mellow and less embarrassed and inhibited about talking of our cocksucking experiences that was primarily for Mr. Jones' profit. "Dad, did any of your men tell you how good it was coming in your mouth?" "Now that you mention it, yes several did. How about you?" "Yes, some did. However, most just walked away and zipped up their pants. However, I heard a several who walked away like that tell other men in line something like "that little sissy fag" - they were talking about me - "can really suck good"." "Did it make you feel good to hear `em say that? Tell me the truth." "I was a bit slow in responding, but I stammered and said "I-I g-guess so." "That's okay son. I understand. The same thing happened to me too. But I could tell from the expression on the men's faces that didn't compliment me that they too enjoyed getting their hard dick meat sucked on by me. And I'll have to tell you the truth, I did enjoy receiving the compliments. For some reason, I really felt so useful and delighted that I was of use to the men. I heard one say that my mouth was as good as some pussy he'd fucked, but that he'd never gotten such a good come for such a cheap price." Dad then went on to further tell me that even though he was at first thoroughly embarrassed at becoming a suck whore for my father-in-law, he confessed that after just one day of whoring, he was delighted at being of service to men who needed a low cost way of obtaining sexual relief. "Son, I know I'm not a fag and that neither are you, for we both like pussy, especially eating it. But I sense you also liked what you've been forced to do also, as well as your contribution to lightening the loads in the balls of the men we sucked off today. Don't you?" Again I was slow in responding, but eventually I nodded affirmatively with a blushing red face. Dad held my hand and reassured me that it was okay to admit my feelings. His words gave me the courage to speak more confidently. "Dad, like you said, I'm not a fag, b-but as the men were using my mouth ejaculating their gooey cum in me, I-I didn't mind them calling m-me all sort of dirty names in- including a "faggot". S-S-Should I-I be..." "No son, you shouldn't be ashamed. I complained to your mother that her agreeing to have us whore for Mr. Jones would literally be making Faggots out of us. She quickly replied "Just because you'll be doing what faggots do doesn't make you one." So son, building on your mother's words of wisdom, just because you may enjoy feeling like a lowly fairy faggot because you're doing what they might do, also doesn't make you one." "Oh thank you dad, that is so comforting to know. You don't know how much better that makes me feel." Dad then told me he too felt good at being on his knees and doing what a fag does as well as being treated as a lowly fairy cocksucker by better endowed men, especially black men. "Your mother also told me that since I had gotten use to the taste of another man's cum in her pussy, that I wouldn't have any trouble taking it from a dick. She was right about that, and it looks like the same holds true for you." Feeling more natural about this whole subject area now, I quickly and confidently agreed with him. I also added that I found the taste of jism from dicks creamier and more full bodied than when mixed with pussy juice. "Yes, I agree with you son. But I also have to say that I find it tasty, even delicious either way. In fact I feel very contented sitting here with a belly full of cum from 20 men." "I do too dad. I guess we owe it all to Mr. Jones even though we both despised him for coercing and subjugating us the way he has." "Well son, even though we both may have disagreed with the way we've been treated, I think we both understand now that what has happened has turned out good for us." I had to agree with him after a moment of reflection. As he and I continued to talk and reflect, and rationalize also, we concluded that guys like us were susceptible to be corralled, subjugated and controlled by stronger more able bodied men like Mr. Jones, and made to do their bidding. We also concluded that it was also why Nature adapted up to accept, adapt, and acclimate to even enjoy being of submissive service to others too. After that first day on the job as my father-in-law's sissy "Hoes", dad and I went on to accept our roles and indeed did very well adapting and immersing ourselves in them. In just two weeks we each exceeded our 120 dicks a week quota Mr. Jones had set for us. At the end of a month we each had sucked and swallowed the heavy heated slimy loads of over 525 strange men who paid to fuck our faces and use our mouths as their personal sperm dumps. In addition, we also were proud of the fact that we had lapped and licked every man's balls whose dick we sucked. Pleased, but also chuckling at how much cum we had drank for him, Mr. Jones estimated we each had consumed about 2 gallons of smelly slimy dick scum for his profit. Dad and I were thoroughly embarrassed at his glee and his having done so in front of my wife - his daughter - and my mother. Their snickering praise of us also didn't ease our humiliation either. But later as dad and I talked alone, we were both very contented and proud of our unusual accomplishment of having swallowed so much warm gooey semen. We knew we'd swallowed a lot of creamy cum from all the spurting dicks, but never thought of trying to calculate just how much, as Mr. Jones had. We were really pleased with ourselves as Dr. Judy has always taught us to be from bringing relief and pleasure to so many hard up men. As we worked on our knees for Mr. Jones, Dad and I often were splattered with jism, had saliva drool hanging in ropy strands from our lips, and the inside of our mouths were constantly coated with the slimy residue of jism. We also reeked of semen and would have a heavy "dick breath". Yet, and it was strange to us at first, but the more we were like that, the more it thrilled both of us and made us feel very satisfied. Neither of us knew why, but Dr. Judy told us it was okay to be happy to enjoy being messy and nasty after being on the receiving end of many dicks. In fact, the more time we spent in Dr. Judy's booth - which we still continued to do over the years - the more content we are to be used, being messy, nasty, and dripping with jism. In fact, dad and I felt our self esteem rise because men, real men, were paying to stick their dicks in us. Mother was pleased at us both and openly lavished praise on us for being such good dick suckers, as did Vy - my wife. Our women's happiness at us having pleased Mr. Jones, therefore pleased both dad and I. Dad and I are cruising along and blowing about 500 - 550 dick a month each for Mr. Jones's profit. On several occasions, we've done as many as 700 each when Mr. Jones has demanded that of us. This is especially true when the ships come in. You see, there is a naval port in our town. When the ships come in, dad and I often become "cheap sailor's whores" as we take down those loads that have been building up in their balls for 6 months or so. Dad and I guess that at $25 a dick, together we put over $25,000 a month gross, in his pockets. While he gives our wives 5% of what we earn for him, they only provide dad and I an allowance of about $30 a week. Our wives now manage all the money affairs of our respective households. Neither dad nor I have a real clue about the financial management of our households. Both our wives have instead encouraged us to focus our time and energies into more meaningful things, like sucking and getting fucked for Mr. Jones's profit. We both have resigned ourselves to the new roles that have been laid out for us, by our wives and Mr. Jones. We have found that the more debase he's treated us and made us more like gutter suck hoes, the more we've adapted and reveled in our lowly lusty roles. We both are surprised at how comfortable we have become about all this. ((((MOTHER & DR. JUDY GUIDES US ON))) Between mother, my wife Vy, Vy's father and mom, dad and I were urged and encouraged to feel to more freely explore doing and adjust to the lifestyle of sissy fags, as we role played as sissy whores for Mr. Jones. The women soon persisted in getting us to dress in drag as we serviced "Tricks" and pretty soon we were also giving us both head and ass. Mother was especially persuasive in goading dad and I into letting men penetrate our assess with their dicks. She got Dr. Judy to prescribe special "douches" for us which relaxed our ass hole muscles so that we could comfortably accommodate hefty size cocks and be fucked as women. Mr. Jones was very pleased at mother helping us becoming fuckable. (((( MOTHER AND I TALK ))))) "Vicki, I'm so pleased that you've settled in and become a good whore like we all wanted you too." "T-Thank you mother, I-I've guess I-I've come to accept it as normal that so many strange men want to put their dicks in my mouth and shoot off their hot creamy cum." "It is normal dear. And besides they know a good fuck face when they see it sweetie. Beside you have a great reputation as an exceptional cocksucker - both you and your dad." "I-I guess I should thank you mom. He and I both try to do the best we can to please men's dicks with our mouths. Speaking of a fuck face, I-I've really come to like the Johns slowly rocking their stiff cocks back and forth in my mouth as they slowly fuck my face while I'm kneeling. I-I really feel so useful a-and really like a pussy getting fucked when they do that." "That's wonderful honey, and you should. After all, you're a good sissy cunt too." I went on to tell mom that Dr. Judy had gotten me to feel rather proud to suck Mr. Jones dick as well as to be a whore for him too. "I'm proud of you too sweetie. I'm just glad that he to thought you were good whore material and guided and mentored you along the right path to a new found happiness of dick sucking, cum drinking and getting ass fucked. (((AFTER ANOTHER DAY IN THE LIFE OF SISSY WHORES)) It was two months or so after our first night of being cock suck whores when dad and I were returning home late one Saturday night. We were tired, but happily and satisfactorily tired. It was dad who first mentioned this and I was quick to reply. "I feel the same way. My jaws ache from being not only opened so long but also wide for all those big dongs we had to get off tonight. Those sailors were hung and horny weren't they?" "And had full balls too. I guess being out to sea for six months will do that." "Yes, but there was nothing watery about their thick rich goo. It took a little extra effort to get their extra slimy down, but I managed." I gleefully added. "You're right about that son. Their sponk was good and rich." Dad replied with a chuckle. "You know dad, when we first started going to Dr. Judy at mother's and Vy's insistence, I really thought she was way out there and full of quackery. However, the more we attended her sessions, I've had to accept her opinion that I-I was just too stubborn a-and misguided to see that what we are doing for Mr. Jones a-and the support and encouragement of our wives were giving us was good for us and them." "Yes son, I have to agree with you on that. Another thing about her sessions are those quiet chambers. They are so relaxing and comfortable." "Yes, it is nice to just lie back and listen to the soothing music. Every time I go in there, I fall asleep for at least an hour, but I'm so relaxed and have a much better understanding of her concepts and perceptions about the correct behavior for us." "So do I. In fact, I often feel so stupid for not having seen what she was talking about earlier. Take for instance, her assertion that our role playing and us doing things that women and sissies and faggots do really shows a type of courage a so called real man would probably never exhibit. Hence, you and are actually demonstrating more courage and grit than real men." "You're so right dad. With us taking all the dicks we do, and especially the many loads of hot sticky gluey gooey jism we swallow, we really demonstrate that we have no fear of those bigger real men and their big hard dicks." "yes son you're so right. We may not be as endowed or as well built or as masculine, but we make up for it by the way we do things real men would be afraid of or just too chicken to do." "That's right dad. And another thing, have you noticed how much more pride and respect mother and Vy have shown us now that we have been implementing all Dr. Judy's recommendations and suggestions as well as totally immersing ourselves in our roles as sissies and fairy fags?" "Yes son I have, and I must admit it's good to have their increased admiration. It does both our self esteem good to have our women telling us that we do things for them that no real man would ever consider doing or lowering themselves to do for." "It does dad. In addition, having mother and Vy show their men pictures and videos of us sucking off lines of tricks and getting fucked while giving blowjobs really does get some of their studs. Mom says when their studs see them, they call us all sorts of names for doing such lewd acts for the women we love, but they never say anything about competing with us as sissy fag whores." "Just as Dr. Judy has told us, that's proof enough that our women see that their studs won't be competing with us to prove their affection to your mother and Vy the way we do by doing the things we do for Mr. Jones and in turn for them." "Yes dad, I have to agree with you. Vy has told me numerous times that she has no intentions of leaving me for her studs, even though they fuck her better than I ever could dream of doing. She says that I'm just too good of a sucker for her to do that. She just raves about how well I suck her slimy frothy pussy after she's been extensively screwed and put away wet, yet she says, I devotedly proceed to mouth and thoroughly clean up her gloppy snatch with no expectation of getting to put my little thing in afterwards." "Yes son, Dr. Judy's training relating to "unselfish love and sex" really has helped us to improve our relationships with our women. After I too eat your mother out after one or more of her black studs loads her up with their viscous goo, I too have no expectation of getting any and am perfectly content to jack off if she tells me to. I'm so thankful that Dr. Judy has helped me see that it's so natural for me to eat other men's sperm from my wife's sloppy pussy and to pull myself off if I need to get off. Or if you're around, for us to do a 69 and get each other off." "Your warm mouth does feel good on my prick." "And yours likewise on mine. Yes son, as I said earlier, we thought that Mr. Jones was evil in the deeds he perpetrated on us. However, it turns out that not only was his actions a blessing in disguise because it has allowed us to share so much time together as we whore together, but also it has allowed us to bond in an intimate special way, as we do when do each other." "Yes dad, it's all been very special. But you know what dad, one thing I really enjoy is our little talks each night after our whoring sessions are over, about dick sizes and shapes and the taste of cum from all the dicks we get pushed in us." "Yes son, that's special for me too. Dr. Judy strongly encourages us doing it too. After our first night of whoring, I quickly discovered I loved talking about other men's dicks and the taste of their hot creamy sperm." "I was angry when mother had us go to Dr. Judy to get us psyched up to suck dicks for money. But just like you, I have to admit now, her relaxation therapy was effective in eliminating my anxiety to be a whore for Mr. Jones, and just go ahead and accept that I should do it and that it was going to happen. And after it happened, like you, I was very thrilled and excited at having other men, strangers use my mouth as a for hire, fuck hole and jism dump." "Yes son, Dr. Judy helped us get our act together and to also realize that the women were right all along in their advice for you and I to be whores for Mr. Jones." "Yes dad, they were. In addition, Dr. Judy has helped me to see that whatever money Mr. Jones makes off us should not be our concern, only making sure we do what he says to best service the clients and make money for him." "Yes son, I've come to the same conclusion. Sure money is important and I realize what little he gives us is a mere pittance for what we earn for him. Anyway, he gives our wives our 5%. But to be honest with you, just like Dr. Judy said I would, all that cum from all those big hard spurting dicks is a reward in itself." "I second that." I added with a slight chuckle. "By the way, son, don't you think this pearl jewelry adds a nice accent on us? "Yes. A single strand pearl necklace and a bracelet and matching pearl watch really makes us outstanding as guys who want to flaunt that we aren't real men and aren't afraid to show it." (((( DAD & I ON DISCUSSING BEING OBEDIENT & CORPORAL PUNISHMENT)))) "It took me a while, bit I have come around to being fond of being obedient to Mr. Jones and doing what he tells us to do. Just knowing he's in charge of things is-is a kind of cozy feeling. I don't know why I feel that way, but I do. In my book, dad, he can do no wrong." "Son I share that same feeling. But as you said, even though I'm not certain why I have so much confidence that he'll do the right things for us, I too want to obey him unconditionally. Plus both our wives say we should and that in itself should be good enough for us. Don't you think?" "Yes it is. By the way, remember Dr. Judy said that starting next month, she is prescribing that our wives paddle us even more each month from now on. They can give us up to 30 strokes now." "I remember, also, your mother got a new perforated thick rubber paddle in the mail this morning. She's anxious to try it out on me. The look in her eyes was pure joy. Yes, she's very anxious to beat me with it." "So did Vy and I know she's also eager to beat me with it. I'm a bit scared, but then if Dr. Judy says we have to be whipped more, then... SIGH! I know we'll have to accept it." "Yes son, we will. Just like when Mr. Jones occasionally slaps us around to make sure that we remember our places. We've learned to accept and adapt to that. I'm confident we'll do the same with being whipped more intensely by our wives. Besides, son, just like Dr. Judy said, this kind of treatment is good for us in making sure we have solid loving relationships with our wives. Remember what Dr. Judy said, "no pain, no gain". And son, since our wives are totally in agreement with Dr. Judy's recommendation - that is, to inflict pain on our rear ends and blister them to ensure we're good husbands- then we must therefore accept it. You do understand that, don't you? We have no choice since we love our wives so." "Y-You're right of course, dad, h-how silly of me. Like you said, I'm sure I'll get accustomed to being given more paddle strokes." "That's my boy. Our wives can't help but love us more dearly as we eagerly submit to them so they can blister our bottoms and hear us squalling like children from their paddling. This will be good for us because it'll further validate we know our places as loving devoted husbands." "Vy has basically told me that she knows that beating my ass even more at our monthly sessions can only make our loving marriage even closer, so I'm sure you're correct dad." "Yes I believe I am. Just like I was when your mother was pleased when we took she and Vy's advice and let Mr. Jones fuck us up our asses like women, and then began having us sell our sissy ass-cunts for his profit too." "Yes dad you were. Speaking of getting fucked for cash for our pimp - Mr. Jones - tonight was a perfect ending for a good day of taking dicks." "Yes it was son. I guess you also liked the rough condescending way the group of earthy brawny men talked to us?" "Oh yes I did. I just knew it was going to be exciting when time they knew who we were they said "C'mon in here you two cute little fag bitches and strip down to your panties"." "Yes, a delicious thrill ran through me as the group groped, grabbed and squeezed us as we stripped down to our panties, camisole, garter belts and nylons. It felt good to have 8 pairs of rough hands running all over my smooth skin and ass." "Yes dad it did. Of course, it felt even better to have them stuff our mouths with their dicks after we licked and sucked on their big bloated cum filled balls. Of course, when they started fucking us in our mouths and assess, and then lining up in front and back of us to pull a train on each of us, it was so delicious to be sandwiched between those men as they moaned and grunted as they fucked us in pursuit of getting their nuts in us." "Yes it was ecstatic to be sissy pussies for those big handsome "Johns". Those kind of guys really gives us an opportunity to play our sissy roles to the fullest." Yes it does dad. They were all at least 6 feet tall and each was very muscular like construction workers. But it was so delightful to have those big brawny men moaning and groaning as they humped their dicks in us to get off. Having their rigid rods moving in and out of my mouth and ass, sort of-of made me feel, uh, so-so, well equal to them, even though they were the real men." "I know the feeling, son. It's because we were taking all they were dishing out. They had their poles and we were their holes. And when we got their hot gooey cum in us, that really made me feel significant." "Yes, you're so right dad. I felt likewise. I really enjoyed getting group fucked and treated in such a condescending nasty manner. They were very pleased that we eagerly licked their asses as gesture of gratitude for letting us be their whores for the evening." "Yes they were. They gave us $250 in tips. Of course, I gave it all to Mr. Jones, as is the usual practice." "That was a nice tip, but then again we really earned it. After all, this was the first time that we have been peed on and had to swallow the piss from a group of Johns." "It wasn't that bad, neither was the taste. That Jacuzzi style bathtub they had us lay in was ideal for the two of us, as they sprayed all their recycled beer on us." Dad went on to add that since the men had given us such a generous tip, he suspected that Mr. Jones would be advertising to other group clients that he had two sissy whores that didn't mind being pissed on. I had to agree with him. Dad and I both continued to talk about the yellow shower we'd been subjected to. The group of masterful brawny men didn't ask if they could use us as urinal targets, they just told us to strip naked and get ready for them to piss on us. Well, one thing dad and I have learned as sissy whores, the customer always comes first - pun intended - so when we were ordered by the men to do as they wanted, we quickly did - even though we didn't know that was on the agenda for the evening. Anyway, since we've been whoring, dad and I have become more submissive in our nature and thoughts. This has been promulgated daily on us by everyone close to us - Mr. Jones, his wife, mother, Vy, and of course Dr. Judy. "Submissiveness, subservience, servility, and sucking are four things that you two should aspire to be the best at and doing for Mr. Jones, your wives and your wives' lovers". These were Dr. Judy's repeated words to dad and I whenever we go in for our frequent session with her. ((((SUNDAY DINNER))))) After Mr. Jones built his dream mansion from the steady income of his whores, Sunday dinners in the new mansion became quite an affair, as the family all gathered around the large dinner table. The table was huge, It was circular and about 12 feet in diameter. The huge stately chair at one spot around the table made it clear where Mr. Jones sat. Mr. Jones decided that cooking dinner and the associated cleaning up afterwards was not what he wanted his women - mom, his wife, and Vy - doing on Sundays. Therefore, he ordered dad and I to cook, serve, and clean up afterwards. We usually never sit at the table with the rest of the family, as we were dressed in frilly maid's uniforms and served the food, and stood by like English maid servants. We had four different color maids' outfits - traditional black/white, lavender, bright pink, and bright yellow. We wore a different color each week. Dad and I usually ate our meals in the kitchen, like the servants we were, and long after the others in the family had eaten. As you the reader can surmise, Mr. Jones had not only made us his sissy whores, but his maidservants as well. However, by this time, dad and I truly knew our places. We had no fight in us to refuse any demands placed on us. We had resigned ourselves to our plight and obediently did as we were told. EPILOGUE: ((((SEVERAL YEARS LATER)))) Dad and I had come in from a day of non-stop whoring for Mr. Jones, our pimp. As was usual, we were sitting around the kitchen table in Mr. Jones's new 8 bedroom mansion, relaxing after a day of dick sucking and being fucked a time or two or three or more. "You know dad, as I sit here tired and full as a tick with all the loads I've swallowed today, I feel so satisfied and never felt better about myself. Even though we live under his roof and Mr. Jones controls us, I really don't mind serving and being managed by him. Actually, it's a rather very contented feeling to know that I can depend on him and Vy to decide things for me and all I have to do is obey their directions. I gather you feel the same about him and mother now? "Yes son, I do, and like you, I am very contented with myself. And even though we aren't allowed to come in the front door, just the servant's entrance, it's not bad living here under his roof and supervision." Dad replied with a broad smile of contentment on his face. Another good thing has come out of all this. Now that Dad and I have been laid off from our regular jobs, we have a reliable trade and good skills to fall back on (actually on our knees) to provide for our families. And speaking of our families, I have a new 2 1/2 year old brother and a 2 1/2 year old son. Both courtesy of Mr. Jones knocking up mother and my wife Vy (his daughter). Both boys are the spitting image of Mr. Jones. In addition, Vy and I also have a set of fraternal twins that are now 14 months. An old boyfriend of hers , named Theo, sired them. They also strongly resemble him, not her or me. By the way, he's black. ((((DADDY KNOWS BEST))) Somehow or the other, we all came to start calling Mr. Jones "Daddy". Vy of course had called him that all along, but now we all - his wife, mother, as well as dad and I somehow got caught up in doing so too. It's probably also because of the benevolent pimp image he tries to portray to each of us, especially when collecting "his money" that we earn for him. He really gets on our case if we don't make our quotas of dicks and tricks. He really comes across as a pimp at these times. He's not really hit the women hard, but he's threaten to paddle their asses, and has slapped them playfully hard on their pretty asses. Dad and I have been slapped around once or twice by him also, but it was more to show that he was in Daddy was in charge and that he wanted to make sure we knew it, and our places. Vy, mother and his wife constantly cater to "Daddy's" good side and are always bragging how Daddy likes their head or pussy better than the others. It's a rivalry pure and simple. "Daddy" stokes the flames of the petty rivalry by saying who was best for him at one time or another when he's fucked them in the mouth or cunt or ass. The women always brag when they've been recently fucked and have "Daddy's" sperm in, or dripping, from them. It's nothing for mother to tell the others that when Daddy needed head, he would come to her first because she could do it better than the rest of us. Of course that would start a series of lewd and raunchy conversations among the women. However, Daddy also made a point to include dad and I in the rivalry by congratulating one or both of us on how well we took his cum. He only had to do that once and before dad and I knew it, the women had considered us competition and included us in their jovial but sluttish discussions. "So you hot ass little sissies think you're as good as my prime pussy fuck meat huh?" Was one such comment jokingly directed toward dad and I. We didn't really have much choice in taking "Daddy's" cum, as neither dad or I had much will to resist him when he demanded sex from us. And since we found it hard not to adore his macho manliness, I suspect we too were a bit subconsciously proud to be his sperm takers also. "Daddy" also acted as judge and jury on disputes in our little clan of whores. One such incident involved me and Vy and Theo - remember him? Her black lover and the father of "our" twins. Well the situation was this. Vy and Theo wanted to go on a cruise. She asked "Daddy" for the money. His response: "Baby girl, I love you, but you're married. Your husband should take care of that for you, and especially so since you have to carry a real man, and not him, to make it romantic." Needless to say, his words were a definite put down to me. But to rub salt further into the wound, "Daddy" decided that Vy could go, but that I would pay the whole tab for she and her lover. To make matters even worse, "Daddy" told me: "Vicki, I'm gonna loan Vy and Theo the money, but since you're her husband, you're responsible for paying it back with 5% interest." I could only gasp in response to his words. What he said next took my breath away. "And you have to work on your own time to hustle dicks to make the payments. It doesn't come out of my money you make for me. Understand!" The tone of seriousness in his voice sent a slight chill through me. However, I knew there was nothing I could do. He even had me thank him for the "Low" family interest rate. To make a long sad story short, Vy and Theo went on their 5 days deluxe cruise at my total expense. The $6,000 bill, including spending money for Theo, meant that it was going to take me quite a while to basically work overtime hustling dicks and selling my ass to pay it all back. I was thankful dad volunteered to help me out some. I later discovered that the week of the cruise was also Vy's fertile time of the month and she made it known that she wasn't packing her birth control pills. Oh well, such is life. ((((LIFE GOES ON IN "Daddy" JONES' HOUSE)))) Vy returned from her cruise delightfully tanned and with many pictures and videos of all the fun in the sun she and Theo enjoyed. A month later, it was also learned that she also picked up some weight from the cruise also. She's currently impregnated with our "4th" child. Theo spends a lot of time with Vy in our residence at "Daddy" house. Theo also demands I suck his impressive dick rather frequently. My wife offered my services to him for free. Even though I'm a suck whore, I thought he still should pay. She didn't. Her reason: "Honey, after all, he's made you a daddy twice over and has also put another one in the oven for you, the least you could do is suck his dick for him when he needs you to. And by the way, if I'm not around to take his jism and he wants more than a suck out, offer him your sissy cunt for me too." It was obvious that my wife was in no mood to hear any dissent from me and I knew better than to present any. In addition, when your wife is the one that gives you your prescribed monthly spanking (as directed by Dr. Judy), it's difficult to get up the courage to stand up to her. Therefore, I meekly agreed to her demands. Even though pregnant, Vy still loves to whore for her father part time, and still finds time to sex 3 other steady studs besides Theo. I'm afraid that she also wants to have kids by them also. Oh well, she said she wanted to have a large family. Despite all that, I'll have to give credit where credit is due, Vy has still been a great mother and wife. Vy's mom and my mother are also still part time "Hoes", and really into the lifestyle. Mr. Jones, while rolling in dough, doesn't seem to mind in the least. As for dad and I, Mr. Jones is still pretty demanding as to us sucking our monthly quota of dicks. He wants to make sure that we are responsible and diligent husbands and able to provide for both our growing families, that is, out of the 5% he pays us. So all in all, dad and I have come to see that Dr. Judy was right to cultivate us into not being ashamed to be subservient and to show humility as we devoted ourselves to our wives and their real men. She showed us how we were not endowed enough to compete with real men who could possibly steal our wives. But with her therapies and by becoming pussy whipped sissy husbands, we leveled the playing field. The results, we were able to keep the women we love, in our lives, as well as ward off other men from stealing them. Our numerous demonstrations of devotion we show to them daily have really paid off for us. Even though dad was at first worried about "Daddy" Jones stealing mother's love from him, dad is quite satisfied now sharing mother with "Daddy" and also that "Daddy" Jones shares his dick with dad. By now readers, you know in the beginning, dad felt coerced and made perverted by becoming `Daddy's" cocksucker, then fairy slut, and then finally his fag whore. But along the way, Dr. Judy guided him into seeing that each step was an investment toward marital and personal happiness for he and mother. Now dad is very pleased that "Daddy" is he and mother's man and that they both share being receptacles for "Daddy's" dick and vessels for his copious loads of sperm. "Son, I'm so pleased that you and your dad gave in and let real men make faggots out of you and he, rather than both of you continuing to pretend to be something you could never be." Mother said to me one time with a broad maternal smile. I for sure never thought things would've turn out the way they have. But Dr. Judy was right about one thing, many men may fuck our wives, but very few men - well actually, none that I know of - have tried to compete with dad and I in doing the things we've done to show our love to our wives and keep them ours. ***THE END***

WARNING: YOU MUST BE AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE TO READ THIS HIGHLY FICTIONAL WORK Copyright 1998 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved. This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. TITLE: A FOOLED HUSBAND By C.D.E. ABSTRACT: A devoted and loving white husband who blindly supports his wife's involvement with a group known as the "Cause", begins to get suspicious of her activities. When his wife reveals that the goal of the "Cause" is to improve racial harmony by reducing sexual tensions between Blacks and Whiyes, he finds himself being coerced and drawn into activities of the "Cause" by his dominant cunning wife. In the end, he discovers that tension reduction isn't all that bad, even when he has to help his wife in the Cause. NOTICE! THE CHARACTERS, NAMES, INCIDENTS, SCENES, STORY LINE DEPICTED, ETC., HEREIN ARE PURELY FICTIONAL. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO REAL PERSONS OR PLACES, LIVING OR DEAD, WAS NEVER INTENDED AND IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL. TITLE: A FOOLED HUSBAND One of my friends says I'm the biggest fool there is, because I let my wife treat me the way she does. I don't agree with him. Just because she's a little strong headed and likes to have her way is no reason to say she's making a fool of me. My friend says that because Jessica [not her real name], my wife, is heavily involved in improving racial harmony. You see, she's a member of a group, which I've overheard her refer to as the "Cause". She says it's a group that is relatively secret, such that she can't even tell me all about it. And I, in turn, can't even tell my friend as much as I'm telling you readers of my story. Anyway, she often brings different black men at our home to discuss the organization's business. Of course, I'm excluded from these discussions since I'm not a member. Her visitors often come at night and are in our home well into the wee hours of the morning. Since she's been so busy with the group, she's asked me to do more of the household chores. In fact, when she invites her club members over, it's me that routinely does all the cleaning up and cooking of snacks or dinner for them. After, I've washed the dishes and served after dinners drinks or coffee, she'll often ask me to go to bed, so that she and the man, or men, on some occasions, can have privacy while they discuss Club business. Of course I do as she desires, since it would be impertinent to interfere with her plans. As a further means of privacy and security, she's also had me move out of the master bedroom to a room in the basement, she'd converted to a bedroom. It also had a small toilet too. This was ideal, since she put a lock on the door that locked from the outside once I enter. Her reason, security for the Cause's work. Not wanting to displease the woman I loved so dearly, I go along with her program and patiently waited until she decides to tell me more, which she promised to do at a later time. She generally escorts me to my basement bedroom and kisses me goodnight before securing the lock and returning to her guests. This has been going on over a year. She's so involved in this club that our sex life has also changed dramatically. I've only had normal intercourse with her four times in the last eight months. And each time, she had me give her head until she got off first and then would hurry me up to get off, which didn't take long anyway, since I'm good for about four minutes on a good day. Most of the time now, I have to plead with her just to suck her luscious cunt a few minutes before she's off somewhere on Cause business. She routinely encourages me to jack off when I tell her I need sex. She always reminds me of my wedding vows and of being faithful to her, just in case I think of seeking out another woman. THE DINNER PARTY Jessica called me at work all excited about a dinner party for some special Cause members from out of town. They were in town for the night and she wanted me to rush home and prepare a full steak dinner for her and them. I complained and resisted, but she was so sweetly persuasive, that I gave in. I spent a good deal of money, which I couldn't afford, on things my wife wanted for the dinner. When I got home, even though she doesn't work, she wasn't there. However, there was a note and a box. The note from her was that dinner was to be ready at seven sharp and that I was to wear what was in the box when I served dinner. I opened the box and was shocked to find an old fashioned lacy white pinafore trimmed in fine scalloped pink lace. I was livid. However, I calmed down and prepared dinner, reasoning that there was a mix-up in the box contents. About six-thirty, I was putting the finishing touches on deserts when her mom dropped by. I explained what was happening. "Why arent you wearing the serving apron I got for you? I picked it out myself." She said Tersely. To which I replied that I thought it was a mistake since I had no intentions of wearing it. My mother-in-law's mood changed quickly as she opened the box and ordered me to put it on. The stern look on her face told me she meant business. "If you intend to embarrass my daughter by not doing as she asked, I'm going to go out to my car and bring in my persuader. Remember my persuader?" How could I forget those nine braided leather thongs with knotted tips. Meekly, I put on the pinafore. My wife arrived later and showed me the low cut short skimpy dress she had bought to wear. I couldn't believe she was going to wear such a revealing item. She assured me she was. To my surprise she also told me something else slightly shocking. "Honey, our guest are high ranking executives in the Cause. They won't say anything about the organization, in front of you, but we'll be under their inspection tonight to see if we, as a couple, exhibit any racial discrimination tendencies or an attitude of being better than blacks. What I'm saying dear is that I want you to be as subservient as possible, and be unconcerned if they want to be overly friendly to me. In fact, I want you to welcome them, tell them you're their servant for the evening, and tell them you fully support me and that you expect me to be totally at their disposal for the evening." THE NEXT DAY "Dear you outdid yourself last night. The fellows raved about your cooking." Spoke my wife gleefully as I came in from work. It had been a trying day at work. I was angry at her because her three out of town guests kept her out all night. She was not home when I left for work this morning. There was a note on my unlocked bedroom door not to worry and that she'd be home when she got home. She had business to discuss with them in their motel rooms. To make matters worse the three handsome black men, our dinner guests, took all sorts of liberties with my wife and almost totally ignored me, even though they knew I was her husband. Of course, between me wearing that lacy pinafore and her pronouncement that they didn't "have to count me" didn't help matters either. She sat at the head of the table and ordered me around slavishly. The next day, I confronted her about her brazenness at dinner last night as well as let her know of my suspicions. "Yes dear, I sleep with them, and I routinely have sex with many black men. I do so to gain their trust and to let them know that I'm serious about improving racial harmony. Secondly, to first let them see what it's like to fuck white pussy. The cause sees interracial sex relations as a key ingredient to improved race relations." As she went on to explain why she was doing what she was, I could understand her need for secrecy. She seemed to be so happy to have gained the trust of over 250 black men since joining the club about a year ago. "Now dear, those men go out and tell others about our cause as well help in club activities and fund raisers." I asked whether the original men she sexed brought other men to her and did any of the original studs come back for seconds from her. "Yes to both questions honey." She replied bubbly. "In addition to some new members periodically wanting seconds, thirds and sometimes fourths, there are nine of my original fellows that just seem to need me every week." `N-nine ... a-a week? ... plus n-new members?' I stammered in shock. "Yes dear. Isn't it something that they think that much of me to want me to help relieve their tensions over and over again, as well as to deepen the trust between the races?" I then asked her about my tensions and suffering while she was taking care of black strangers. "Honey, I understand your feelings and how you might perceive you've been slighted. However, I also know you're not the selfish type and that you too care about the greater needs of society." I quickly questioned my wife how I could perceive her actions as anything other than being mistreated or slighted. "Now honey, c'mon over here and lets look at one of the videos that I made of some of my trust building sessions." She responded in a sweet tone as she put her arms around me and led me to the couch. As she ran the video, she indicated someone might think theses were just X rated videotapes because of all the sexual activity, but she assured me there were a lot of trust being built up as well as increasing communications between the races. After about two minutes, I let her know I had to agree with the X-rated assumption. "Now look dear, the point I wanted to make to you was that black men's tension and sexual needs are significantly greater than yours and therefore, since I had to place a priority on the greatest need, you didn't come first. I don't mean to hurt your feeling, but I hope you understand dear. See how much bigger and swollen those black dicks are compared to yours?" I was in awe of the many horse size cocks in the video, as I sat quietly listening to my wife's explanation. "And see dear, how great their loads are? Just imagine if you had that much jism in your balls churning and pent-up looking for release." My wife went on with her rationale why my needs for her were justifiably subordinate and a lower priority than the different black men she was sexing. Even though I was upset at having to stay at home and beat my meat, while strange black men were enjoying my wife, I had to admit she came up with some strong arguments for her case. I meekly told her I understood. "Thank you for your confidence honey. I often thought of you locked in your room pulling your little peter while I was out getting laid all the time. But I had to do that sweetie. I couldn't stand to have you cheating on me or interfering with my plans. I didn't have the time to properly explain things to you, and you know how silly and obstinate you can be at times, if things aren't explained to you in the right way." I hung my head and nodded in agreement. We both knew there were several instances in the past where I'd said stupid or dumb things that she later made me apologize for on my hands and knees. I didn't even want to think of the other times she and her mother demanded I accept a whipping across my bare ass, from them, for my stupidity. Every time I do, I think of the days I ached and couldn't sit down after they finished with punishing me. "Dear, for every good cause, sacrifices must be made. You having to jerk off was one such sacrifice. You may have some small justification for feeling left out, but in the bigger picture, you should be proud of your part and that it's all for a good cause." Jessica and I kissed and made up. I forgave her for not involving or telling me about her racial harmony `"Cause" activities'. "Honey, now that you know everything about the cause, I'd like you to join?" Puzzled, I asked how I could be of assistance. What she wanted me of me made me go blank. I couldn't believe my ears. "Dear, you already love sucking my pussy, I think you'd like it even more after these real men flavored it. And honey, it would demonstrate that we are united, as woman and husband in the Cause." Readers, I naturally had to give her proposition some thought. She left a lot of Polaroids and videos out that were taken of her and a multitude of black studs she'd sexed. I couldn't help but get horny from looking at all those big long black dicks disappearing between her legs and leaving her beautiful hairy snatch awash in their spent milky white sticky goo. The more I watched them, the more I discovered I liked seeing her manhandled and fucked by powerful black men. I also found myself in constant awe of her wet messy gloppy pussy, oozing abundant fuck juices, after each stud pulled his big tool from her well stretched gash. The more I watched, the more my curiosity built up of what it would be like to eat out her fuck goo filled snatch. When I commented and complimented her on being able to take those big long cocks, she told me "One of the first black dudes asked me if I'd ever had a cock in me over four inches long before, and I had to admit I hadn't until I took his eight incher." She said it in a way that we both laughed at what was said. However, I knew I was no match for the black studs I saw her with. I then asked her about those men that still come to see her on a regular basis. "Would you like to meet them dear? I think it'd be a great idea. " `Jessica honey ... I-I don't know if I'm ready just yet ... W-what I'm worried about is whether you'll still n-need or w-want me? ... You know with all the heavy duty sex you're getting from them ... Y-you really have no need for ...'. "For you? Of course I do darling. You're my husband. I love you ... and I love the way you show me devotion and love, not to mention the great way you suck my pussy. No darling, push those silly thoughts out of your mind. You belong to me and I'm not going to leave you just because I'm sexing a lot of black studs." Her words made me feel so much better. We embraced and kissed passionately. I don't know why, but at that moment, I couldn't help but think of all those black pricks I remembered her sucking on in the videos. She also promised me more head time in her pussy too. However, she did insist on me having a cook out for her regulars, since she intended having them come by the house more often now that I knew of her activities. I cringed at her words, but I meekly gave my support to the woman I loved. THE COOKOUT The cookout was a success. Even though I felt intimidated by the nine black men who came. I remember several of them from the videos. My mom-in-law bought me another even more lacy and feminine pinafore for the occasion. It was not only lacy, but flowery. My wife insisted as well that I wear it for the cookout. All the men squeezed my softer hands so hard. Besides being taller, it was obvious they were much stronger too. In a strange way, they didn't seem to count me that much except when they had me scurrying to get a drink or more of something for them. They all, with my wife's obvious permission, kissed, groped and fondled her lewdly at will. She did the same in return. I didn't expect it to, and I don't know why, but it was apparent that the cookout was going to turn into an orgy gang bang for my wife. When I tried to stop my wife from taking off the one piece wrap around she wore, a strong black hand picked me up and pulled me out of the way. After that, I saw about four men surround her while I was hauled to another part of the house with a hand around my mouth. The next thing I knew I was on my knees with a rigid black erection pointed straight at my mouth. It's owner made me look up at him and slapped my face lightly but firmly. He then warned me that if I didn't do as he wanted, he would hit harder, much harder. I did as he told me. I opened wide to receive his swollen bloated cockhead. I was too terrified to be disgusted at what I was being made to do. After a second or two of having his big cock in my mouth, I settled now as I realized that it wasn't all that bad, especially the feel of my tongue tip in his large pee slit. After several minutes of having him pushing and pulling his giant dick in and out of my stretched mouth as well as me suckling it from time to time, he warned me of his impending come and warned me to swallow it all. I was terrified and yet strangely aroused at the thought of having to swallow this black man's cum. He flooded my mouth. I was able to swallow just about all of it except for a trickle from the corner of my mouth. He had me milk him for a while afterward before pulling it from my lips. I was surprised at the creamy rich taste of the man's hot jism. "I don't think you and I gonna have any trouble getting along. Do you?" The man said as he looked down on me. I was still on my knees, as he pulled up his pants and fastened his belt. `N-no sir!' I blurted out not knowing what else to say. I was still slightly shaken after having had such a monstrous black cock shoved down my throat. "That's good, cause you and me gonna talk like this some more. It's good to see you helping your wife out." he said as he walked out of the small bathroom. I stayed their in a dumbfounded state for a while. Finally, I reached out for some tissue to wipe the black man's trail of semen from the corner of my mouth, and later the large drop of his cum that'd splattered on the floor. However, just as I'd finished cleaning up the jism, I looked up to see another black stud coming toward me with another giant stalk of black manhood jutting out at the ready. It was so firm and rigid. He stopped in front of me as I looked up at him bewildered and him down at me as if to say I should know what he wanted of me. His cock was covered with a slimy film. "I just got off in your bitch's pussy, but I need some more action. I just heard you suck dick pretty good, so c'mon, gimme some mouth action and clean yo wife's pussy scum off my dick too." I was more intimidated by the rough roar of the man's voice than I was by anything else he did. However, before I could get the taste of one dick out of my mouth another had been shoved in. This second time I felt more relaxed with this second big black prick between my lips. I recognized the smell and taste of my wife's cunt on his member. He made me do most of the work, that is, the sucking and lapping, while he held the back of my head and directed me where to use my tongue. He had me lick the base of his very dark penis as well as lap his hairy balls. I was surprised at their silkiness on my tongue as well as their sizes. As I worked around his magnificent genitals with my tongue and lips, I felt a certain respect for all that was before me and a strange desire to pay homage. The strong masculine smell from his genitals combined with pussy funk seem to pervade my senses most pleasantly, as I worked on him until he too flooded my mouth with another very heated creamy load. I didn't miss a drop this time. Before the group left, every man ended up fucking my face. I found myself in no position to resist them as they lined up to fill my mouth with their hard meat and hot sticky jism. When I finally got off my knees and cleaned up somewhat, my wife was waiting on me with another cleaning job - her steamy gloppy sloppy cunt. AFTER THE REGULARS DEPARTED "Honey, you really ate me out good. You like my fur pie when it's real creamy huh?" 'I-I don't know dear, I-I just had t-to be near you after what y-your r-regular men forced me to do. I-I wouldn't have ordinarily done that, t-that is, with all their stuff in you, b-but I-I just had to touch you dear.' I replied to my wife as we both laid on the floor. We both reeked of semen. Her regulars, our guests, had gone, after eating all the food and drinking all the booze. However, as best she and I could remember, they left some 21 loads of cum in and between us two. "Darling, they thought you cooked their big tube steaks just right. They told me that you really seem to like all the gravy they gave you." She giggled as she spoke. I just blushed. I didn't know what to say. It was awkward for me to talk to my wife about having sucked cocks, many of which had come straight to my lips with fuck slime from her gang banged snatch. "They shoot a lot of that hot stuff don't they?" I quickly acknowledged that she was correct and added how powerful their heated jism gushed in my mouth. "You enjoyed the taste of black dick meat and cum didn't you darling?" She asked me as she held my head and looked deep in my eyes. I stammered and stumbled as I tried to evade answering her directly, but she had her answer. "I understand how you feel honey, but you don't have to be ashamed of admitting to me you like sucking their big black dicks. I love sucking them too. I'll still love you. In fact, I even think more of you now." 'Y-you do?' I said in a tone of surprise. "Of course. Plus, now you can join me in my crusade and become a club member, now that everything is in the open." She spoke with a sigh of relief and added it was like a weigh off her shoulders now that I knew everything and had met and got along so well with some of her dearest club friends. 'Y-you think y-your regulars are going to w-want me to do t-that f-for ...' I tried to ask before she cut me off. "Of course honey. I told everyone of them that it was okay to call you if I was tied up and they needed a quickie ... or if they just wanted to see you period. I won't say who, but a couple of the guys want to get with you on a regular basis. I think they get a kick out of having a white husband sucking their dicks, especially since they're sexing me too." Before going to bed and leaving me to clean up things, she told me sweetly how good it was to have me helping her out with her club regulars and how that would free up more time for new members. A WEEK LATER Since the cook out, I've found myself more understanding of my wife and her cause. After all, where else could she get such good sexing as well as aiding such a good social cause. Even though she had good reason not to permit me more prick time in her, she at least kept her promise and finds much more time to let me bury my face in her jism saturated snatch. She only offers herself to me now after she's been used and filled with black men's lusty outpourings. I've resigned myself to this being the best I can expect from her now in the way of sex. I made some mock objections the first time, since the cook out that is, when she pushed her thoroughly fucked, gamy pussy in my face. However, she knew it was just a face savings gesture and ignored me as she pulled me to her hairy crotch and wrapped her legs around my head. I greedily consumed the cunt full of thick fuck slime she'd brought me from her encounter with a couple of black studs. I'd never seen a pussy plug before, but that's what she used to keep it in her cunt for me. I've grown accustomed to the taste of her slimy snatch now and offer no resistance at all anymore. She loves me sucking the men's jism out of her. I really adore the joyous smile she has on her face when I get her off in the process. I think she gets a thrill from asking me if I swallowed all the love juices from her, because she does it all the time. And when I acknowledge that I have, she pats me on the head and tells me how proud she is of me for "eating it all". However, I must admit I do feel different about her now. I see her in a different light. It's like she's so much more sophisticated than me. I feel awed and even privileged each time I lower my head between her big fleshy white thighs. After all, she's satisfied over 250 big black dicks with her luscious cunt. I feel a great sense of pride in just being her husband. Also when I'm mouthing her, I can't help envisioning many of the video scenes where she's getting fucked and filled with huge loads of hot gooey cum. Instead of being turned off by them, I find it adds to what I'm doing. True to my wife's predilection, a few days after the cook out, two of her regulars called. They wanted to bring over some videos for me to watch. The idea of their visit was for me and them to get to know each other better. I didn't want to be alone with them, since my wife wouldn't be home that night. She had a meeting scheduled with three black truck drivers at a motel. She urged me to meet her two regulars, but left it up to me. However she told me to call them back and give them my answer. I was very nervous as I dialed the black man who'd called. I had every intention of telling him that they couldn't come over, however the sound of his heavy masculine voice and his persuasive manner intimidated and dazzled me even over the phone. Before I realized it, I'd not only been tricked into agreeing for them to come over, but was to cook some popcorn also. If it was any consolation, Louis, the man I talked to, seemed to understand my apprehension and put me at ease by promising they wouldn't force themselves on me as they had at the cook out. In fact he was apologetic for his action, but yet implied it seemed the right thing to do. As I prepared for their arrival, I kept asking myself how could I have caved into him so easily. After pondering the matter a long while, I stopped being so hard on myself. I came to the conclusion that it was probably difficult for someone like myself to tell a strong black man no, especially after having sucked his dick. LATER THAT NIGHT (Recount of visit by Louis & Theo) The visit by two of my wife's regular studs had been far more enjoyable than I thought it would. I was preparing for bed as I thought back over the evening. They left me the video they brought over. I didn't get to see all of it, since I was busy doing things for them - namely, sucking their raging hard dicks. The evening started out with them showing the video of my wife in a series of sexual encounters with single, and groups of men. We all dranked as we watched my wife take cock after cock in her mouth, cunt, and ass. The two regulars, Louis and Theo, were laughing and making earthy compliments about her. It was odd, I ordinarily would've been offended if someone had called my wife a "slut", "pig" or "whore", but around those two, I felt a sense of husbandly pride at my wife being so experienced at being fucked by so many different black men with such huge pricks. In fact, both Louis and Theo complimented me for that same thing several times throughout the evening. I blushed as I thanked them. After about an hour of drinking and watching the video, my cock was hard and throbbing. However, the much larger cocks of my guests were quite visible and very noticeable as obscene big bulges in their pants. Theo's eyes met mine eyes as I glanced over at his crotch. I quickly returned them to the TV screen. It was then he suddenly stood up and took his trousers off. The effect of his giant cock being freed and exposed to air seem to cause it to grow even bigger and more taunt, especially the bloated blood gorged cockhead. I was totally flabbergasted, speechless, and paralyzed. All at the same time. He walked over in front of me. "Is this a better view?" He asked me as I gazed at his jutting rigid black truncheon, which was at the level of my face. I involuntary opened my mouth to say something, Im not sure what, but that's when he just used his big hand to pull my head to his swollen dick. In a split second, before I realized what'd happened, my mouth was full of smooth heated hard black dick meat. Caught off guard, but yet strangely delighted at my plight, I made no resistance to reject the invader. "That's it, take it! Yo bitch caused this ... After all, you're her husband." He moaned as he began to work it in a familiar manner in and out of my lips. As he pulled me from the chair to my knees, with his dick firmly between my lips, I grasped around his waist for support and held onto his tight muscular ass cheeks. Familiar with what was needed in the situation, I accommodated Theo without objection. Besides, the taste and feel of his hard meat was rather nice. As I suckled his big tool, I couldn't fault his logic about it being justified for me doing this for him. As I swallowed his abundant hot ejaculate, I felt an odd sense of achievement for not missing a drop of his hot creamy cum. After Theo pulled himself from my lips, I took a sip from my drink, really not knowing what to do or what was expected of me. Louis sort of saved me further anxiety by beckoning me over between his legs to his rigid rod that was sticking out so magnificently. Obediently, I crawled over and had my mouth filled and stuffed, once more, with stiff black meat. The rest of the evening for me, about three hours, was basically spent on my knees with one or the other of the men's ever hard dicks between my lips. At one point, they laid back on opposite ends of the couch in such a way that I could get at both their huge, still hard cocks. I had a cock in each hand and was able to easily administer to both of their monstrous rods in an easy and equitable fashion. While I was busy mouthing them, they were still enjoying the long playing video. The two left me with six heavy loads of jism in my tummy and thanked me for letting them "soak" their cocks in my mouth. I didn't know what else to say but `You're welcomed'. As I laid in bed, I had to admit, if nothing else, that this whole experience has given me greater insight into why my wife revels in the Cause and sexing black men. I too couldn't help but be awed by their sexual prowess, and their adorable dicks, especially after two bouts of first hand demonstrations. As I drifted to sleep I pondered not only what I was going to tell my wife, but how I was going to do it. You see, I still felt uneasy and ashamed about admitting I enjoyed sucking big black cocks. EARLY THE NEXT MORNING The day was Saturday. For some reason, I woke up early. It was 5 A.M. Moments later, I heard my wife enter the house. After greeting each other, she quickly undressed and smothered my upturned face with her slimy slick mucky gash. I gave her a good sucking and was so delighted to hear her moans of joy as I extracted gooey fuck juices from her well used musky smelling snatch. She sure tasted good. As she scrubbed my face with her wet slimy cunt, she thoroughly praised her three black lovers for the "good fucking" they gave her. Her words to me however were "Suck you Fool! Suck that good fuck up! Make me feel like a woman at last!" As she settled down from the orgasm my mouth gave her, I was waiting for the right moment to ask her permission to let me put my aching throbbing cock in. I assumed she surely could spare me a few minutes after having given herself to three strange black men all night. I nervously asked her. Even I realized I sounded pathetic. "Honey, You look so sweet every time you ask me that. No, you can't put it in just yet. I want you to keep asking though, and when I'm ready, I'll let you do it then." She replied smiling, as she kissed me on my forehead. She then snuggled up to me and spoke softly, as she further explained why she denied me, but not any black man with a hard dick. After listening to her for a few moments, I was very dejected, but hopeful of some future time of again being able to exercise my normal conjugal rights as her husband. However, I continued to listen to her rationale intently as I held my aching throbbing prick. "So you see honey, besides them being better at sexing me than you ever did or could, I also feel it's important for the Cause, for you to continue making a sacrifice for a while." I asked her when she might permit me to put it in and end my "sacrifice". "In time honey, in time ... But it's important for you to remain faithful, loving and devoted to me. The men really respect you for that, as I do. When I tell them my husband's home masturbating, while I'm out giving it to them, they have nothing but respect for you honey. She concluded. `Y-you tell them I-I ...' "Jack off? Of course darling, it not only seems to help them enjoy me more, but it lets them know we value improved race relations and have adjusted our marital priorities accordingly." She replied cutting me off. To my chagrin, she further went on to let me know she told them how "sweetly" I've picked up all the household chores so that she can devote more time to the Cause. Her admissions floored me. I didn't think things could get worse until she added she also told the men I sucked her used loaded cunt. "Dear, don't look so shocked, a great deal of the black men are accustomed to white husbands doing this for their wives. I've found black men are totally understanding and don't look upon it as odd or strange that you'd suck up and eat their spent jism. You're doing the same thing as other normal well adjusted husbands are, whose wives are in the cause of improving interracial sexual relations. And dear, I hope one day we can go and meet black men together, so you can suck their stuff out of me in their presence." Even though I'd started out with one objective in mind, I couldn't resist the opportunity of asking if black men thought we husbands were gay because of things like sucking out a cunt full, or sucking their dicks. "Oh definitely not gay darling, even though they see it as normal for you to suck their dicks and the cunts they've fucked. Just think honey, if you were gay, would you like sucking pussy?" Her simply response was so simple and yet so illuminating. It was like a wave of relief to me. I guess it showed. She quizzed me. In her skillful manipulative way, she got me to talk more about how I felt at being face fucked at the cook out, and to recount my experience of last night with two of her regulars. "Dear, I think you so much for sharing these things with me. It's so important we keep open channels of communications. To get back to your concern of being considered gay, sure, the darlings are going to occasionally call you a faggot, a fairy, a pansy or something similar. You should not be alarmed or ashamed of being called those things, especially, when they're creaming in your mouth. It adds to the pleasure of their come to say those things. Anyway, honey, they're men, real men, who need blunt catchy terms to express themselves. The problem is that society and the language uses a few words to communicate so many different thoughts and meanings. Hence, your confusion that black men might think you gay." I really felt so much relieved at her explanation. She assured me that black men knew the difference between an understanding loving husband who's a good cock sucker, than someone whos gay. "Darling, they see you as paying homage and respect to them being the better men, than anything else. And as I've told you, I hold you in high esteem for giving them such respect and proving to them, in a most intimate way, you support me, and the cause, by swallowing their hot cum." She kissed me. As we parted our lips, I thanked her for her praise, love and companionship, especially since I now better knew how inadequate I was in comparison to black studs, as well as how important it was to her that I make the sacrifices she desired of me. "Thank you dear. I appreciate that. And personally honey, as far as names go, I'd like to think of you as my supportive, sweet, well behaved sissy husband. You see honey, when I say sissy, I don't mean it to be derogatory ... more like you're soft and yielding ... and well ... pussy like. Hmmm! Maybe pussy husband is better." As I was thinking about what she'd said, I recalled her two regulars calling me a sissy several times doing the evening. I thought of how matter of factly they did so, without emphasis or in a derisive manner. I of course was too cowed to be defensive about it. In accepting being called that, I even began to respond to "sissy" a couple of times when they forgot my name. I sort of found myself growing fond of the way the two men said it in their heavy masculine voices. I wondered how it would sound to hear them say "pussy husband". The more I thought about it the more catchy it sounded. Since I'd been a receptacle for the men's cock and cum, I indeed was functioning as a substitute pussy. My wife interrupted my thoughts. "Enough time for talk sweetie, I need to get some rest, I've got another full day ahead of me. C'mon honey, beat your meat for me. Here suck on this as you play with yourself." She pulled my mouth to her tit. She held my head to her like a baby as I did as she wanted. I always seems to end up doing what she wants of me, however this time I'd never been more contented. "That's it sweetie, beat your meat for me ... show me how much you love for me ... steady ... keep on stroking it ... you're almost there ... that's it ... suck on that tit ... good baby." I found her words did add to the pleasure of the hand job I was doing myself. Secretly, I had to admit to myself that jacking off for her wasn't that bad. I hated to admit it, but I was sure her watching me gave her more pleasure than me putting it in. "Feel better?" She said after I shot off and was settling down from shooting my load. I shook my head in acknowledgment. "Good. I like seeing you pull your little peter." I helped her take a bubble bath and cooked and served her breakfast in bed before tucking her in. As had become standard practice, I kissed her beautiful cunt bush before she excused me from the room. As I started on my household chores for the day, I pondered what she meant by "We need to find you some pretty clothes more befitting a pussy husband in the cause", before she fell to sleep. GETTING DRESSED A few days later, my wife came up to me and said matter of factly that she thought I should look and dress more effeminately now that black men come over to our house openly for sex. "After all honey, black men expect pussy husbands to look different .. you know ... arousing." There was not much I could do about my wife wanting me to dress in drag for the Cause. I knew I loved her too much to not do as she wanted. She adores black men very much, and I'm also very admiring of them too, especially after all I've been through. She knows I'd do whatever it takes to please them for her. Especially since it's aiding racial harmony and reducing tension every time I part my lips for a stiff black prick or get one shoved up my ass. THE END WARNING! MUST BE AT LEAST 21 YEARS OLD TO READ THIS STORY! Comments or more story ideas, contact C.D.E at: [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright (c) 1998 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. STORY TITLE: It's Hard Work Holding A Marriage Together By C.D.E. Cast: HUSBAND-Victor WIFE-Betty HUSBAND'S Mother HUSBAND'S Mother-in-law Reverend Davis CHAPTER 1: The Beginning Readers. If you're a small cock husband, whether your wife be beautiful or average, there will come a time when your cocksmanship and tonguemanship will still fall short of what she believes she needs in the way of sex. And if you truly love her, then you have to go all out to do what it takes to keep her, and hold the marriage together. Believe me, it can be rough at times to do so. It's trying. For instance, I'm baby-sitting our three young kids tonight while my wife is out partying with three of her favorite lovers. Incidentally, I might add that they are each the real father of one of our three beautiful children. Even though she loves me, she wanted to prove her love to each of her lovers by having a love child from each of them. She said if I loved her, I would support her. She knew my love was deep for her and what better way to prove it than agreeing to what she asked of me. As you can see, I gave into her and now have the ultimate proof of being a cuckold facing me everyday. Of course, I love the kids and don't hold them responsible. Even there fathers say I'm better for them than they are. My wife delights in being a good piece of ass for her big dick lovers, whom she refers to as "real men". She also does gang bangs for them and their friends at parties too. But no matter, when they have had their fill of her and are through with her, she comes home to me, her loving husband, who always welcomes her with open arms. She always insist I tongue out her musky, slick, slimy, dripping well fucked cunt after her outings. I'm more than willing to prove my love to her in this manner as well as add what I can to her sexual satisfaction by doing so. It turns her on to have me do this, and I also have discovered a certain joy in doing this for her also. As one sports writer once said, it's the end game that counts. She tells me that her lovers only warm her up for my oral efforts. Over the years, I have come to enjoy sucking her out more than having intercourse. Plus, with her cunt being so stretched due to her lovers' big dicks, she doesn't get much pleasure from my small prick anyway. Besides I'm not as long winded as they are anyway. Well anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself. From the beginning here's my story of my trials and tribulations in holding my marriage together. My name is Victor. My wife and I have been married two years. She is a lovely well proportioned dark hair brunette. It was becoming obvious that my wife was becoming less enchanted with our sex life and told me so. "Honey, you know I love you. I love your tongue on my pussy, but I need more to get me off. I need a good size long cock to hump me and get me off. Maybe we should separate a while and see if this marriage is going to work out." Her words devastated me. I know I wasn't well endowed, but I thought my oral efforts made up for that. Apparently it didn't. I loved her so. I knew I couldn't just give up and let her out of my life. I for sure would lose her then. We both agreed that a marriage counselor's opinion was best. We were concerned about the money for a counselor, so we sought out the advice of our minister first. "Victor and Betty, you did the right thing to see me first. I'm very familiar with situations like yours. Through no fault of your own Victor, you're just not man enough to take care of your wife's needs. And she on the other hand, through no fault of her own, has the normal urges of a full blooded woman. Take out your penis Victor." "W-What? ." I said. "I said take out your penis. This is serious Victor. Do as I say. We must not be shy here." "Go ahead honey, do as the Reverend told you. He's trying to help us." My wife added. I took out my small prick. It was fully relaxed and shrunken, so it was only between one and two inches long in that state. Needless to say I was fully embarrassed as I stood in the Minister's study with my shorts down and my cock exposed for he and my wife's gaze. "What size is it normally Betty?" "About 3 - 4 inches long and on the skinny side, even when erect?" "So that doesn't excite you as much as it once did, huh Betty?" "Well Reverend, it never really did anyway, but I was satisfied by his, mouth. He sucks very well. So I settled for that and just put up with his efforts with his little thing." My wife's words really hit me hard. "Don't dress yet Victor. You may sit. Let your pants fall to the floor. I want your prick to stay out for a while." The minister said in a direct, almost dictatorial manner. I felt compelled to follow the order of this man of the cloth. His masculine voice seemed to command attention. He next stood up and lowered his trousers to reveal his manhood which brought a gasping sound from both my wife and I simultaneously. "Is this more what you think you need Betty?" He said walking over in front of where she sat. "Oh yes Reverend, yes, yes, just what I need. You're hung so beautifully." She said with obvious excitement in her voice. His prick was about 7" relaxed and had a perfectly formed head, which peeked out from around the circumcised sheath. "Come child, handle my member and tell me what you would do with it." As she began to talk to Reverend Davis, he stopped her and told me not to move an inch but to sit and learn. His stern focused look cowed me. Here again, I was mesmerized and stilled by his voice. My wife resumed her fondling and handling of his good size cock as she told him how she'd like to have him inside her. She was obviously in heat and was serious about what she was saying. "Don't get upset Victor, this is for the good of your marriage." He said as he started removing her blouse and urged her to suckle his hardening meat. Moments later, I sat in a chair looking on, the Reverend and my wife were in the throes of hot juicy intercourse without any shame or guilt and virtually oblivious to me as I sat taking it all in. What could I say? The strange thing is that I had a hard prick, which I handled from time to time as they so passionately sexed it up in the study. Thirty minutes later, they de-coupled after a bit of deep long French kisses. It was obvious she didn't want him to get up or out of her. His almost nine inch dick, eased out of her well fucked cunt with a soft sucking swishing sound as air rushed back into her well stretched sloppy wet messy pussy. "Now do you see what your wife needs Victor?" "Y-Yes s-sir." I replied stammering. "But you can't give her that kind of sex can you Victor?" "Uh . n-no s-sir." I said hanging my head. "But you liked what you saw right?" He said pointing at my erection. My wife spotted it also. "Reverend I think he liked watching his wife being taken. Is that anyway for a man to respond to his wife being sexed?" "No, I'm afraid not Betty. But then Victor, your concern is not about being something you can't be. Is it Victor? Your only concern should be about being there for your wife when she needs you. You want to be a good husband don't you?" "Y-Yes sir. I-I do want to be a good husband." "Step out of your pants and shorts Victor and come here. Let me tell you what a good husband would do in this situation." I did as he ordered me. When I came before him his next words shocked me. I'd never sucked a loaded wet well used pussy before. But his insistence that this was not only the right thing to do, but a husbandly obligation weakened my resistance. Additionally, there was something exotic about my wife's red swollen drippy slimy pussy lips that seemed attractive even if nasty and messy. I felt myself losing control as he pushed my face right into her soppy sloppy bush that was coated with his thick abundant sperm. She then closed her legs around my head. He and she both urged me on as I tasted and then started slurping down mouthfuls of their hot well mingled sex juices. "OOOH YES! Su-uuck ME! Make feel like a woman at last!" My wife cried out as she had yet another orgasm as she humped her sloppy cunt tightly against my face. Later after we three had composed our selves, Reverend Davis got me to confess that the taste of her used cunt was palatable and that I did get pleasure from doing that. They both chuckled as they let me know my erection gave me away. I wanted to sex my wife too, but the minister stopped me and directed me to put my throbbing member away. Sheepishly I did. My wife just smiled at my embarrassment. I couldn't believe it, she seemed to be enjoying my plight. Reverend Davis resumed counseling us, which took the form of a lecture to me on my new responsibilities in seeing to my wife's happiness. "Victor as I have demonstrated, you're the problem in this situation. However, through your love and understanding, you can also remedy the situation and help your wife fulfill her needs and in the process demonstrate not only your love but also that you want to be a good husband. You do love your wife and you did say you wanted to be a good husband too, didn't you?" "Oh yes sir. I do." I replied quickly. "Then by using the God given talents you have with your mouth, you can provide for your wife's need in that way and let others, who are better endowed, provide her what else she needs. Understand Victor?" "Y-Yes sir . I-I think so." I replied meekly, being afraid of where he was going with his train of thought. The more he talked the more correct I was in my assumption. "So therefore, Victor, you must not think of your lovely wife's activities in seeing and dating other men as adultery, but as therapy for what you can't do for her. I expect you to do all you can to support her in her quest for fulfillment of her needs. She'll need the help of myself and many other men. Of course in the way of sex, your help will be needed also, especially in the manner you performed a few minutes ago. Now it is still required that you be faithful and not stray from your marriage vows, while your wife is seeking and being provided what you are unable to give her. Understand?" "Y-Yes s-sir". I again replied as he looked at me so sternly. It was clear from my wife's face, even though she held my hand tightly, she was delighted at what was going on. "Victor, you must be prepared to be spend many nights at home alone until your wife returns from her outings with other men. And when she returns, you must always greet her with love, admiration and respect. And you must never shy or shrink away from your obligatory duties of showing your respect and love by being there for her if she desires to share the love juices of her encounters with other men. I expect you to be totally obedient in this regard, as well as her other needs. Through your love and obedience to your wife Victor, you two will find a deeper love in your marriage. And Betty, it would be good of you to always describe to your husband the activities of your dates, especially how well endowed they are as he's orally administering to you." "Yes Reverend, I surely will." She said gleefully. The good pastor also let me know that I should do more of the household chores since my wife may not have time for such things because of her increased activities. "As you know, idle hands are the Devil's workshop." He said looking at me. "And Victor, one other thing. "You must also expect to sacrifice in regard to normal sex. You may have to masturbate since your wife just may be too tired to put up with you. You must understand and accept this. However, I'll let you two discuss and come to agreement on that. If you can't, bring it up at our next meeting, which should be one week from now." CHAPTER 2: A Month Later I'd just walked in from work. It was Friday night. Betty and our moms were sitting at the kitchen table chatting and enjoying coffee. I greeted them and my wife greeted me with a warm kiss. "Victor dear, you know I'm going out with my friends tonight. Your dinner is in the stove." With a subtle sigh, I acknowledged her. Knowing full well that this was a polite way of letting me know she again had another date tonight with one of three men she'd been dating since our initial counseling session. She enjoyed that the three of them knew she was dating them all. They were co-workers from the company where she worked part time. The three studs seemed to enjoy the arrangement and she always made herself available to them whenever their dicks got hard. Needless to say, I was the one who was shortchanged in the deal. She hasn't had time for me to get in her since she began dating them. She always has time for me to suck and drain their juices from her with my mouth, but is too tired to let me do anything else. So I have to beat my meat. This was her fifth date this week. But then, the pastor told me I'd have to sacrifice for her happiness and sexual fulfillment. As I went to the bedroom to change out of my suit, I noticed mom and my mother-in-law, Mother Jane, looked at me in a peculiar manner. Each exhibited a smug smile. Tired, I thought nothing more about it. As I walked away, my wife spoke. "Victor darling, don't eat any dessert, I'll bring you plenty of that to eat when I come in later tonight." My wife said as she again pecked me on the cheek and winked at me. Mom and Mother Jane giggled. I'm not the quickest person, but then it dawned on me she'd told them about me eating her out after her dates had fucked her. I was speechless and totally humiliated as I stood before the three of them. I didn't even know our moms knew of the open marriage arrangement we had, less much the other details which apparently they now knew of. "Y-You t-told them?" I asked my wife as I sat down, feeling weak in the knees. "Well honey, they suspected something, so I told them the truth. I think it's better this way." "Son you don't have a thing to be ashamed of, I think it's cute that you suck other men's cum from your wife's pussy." Mom said in a cheery tone. "Yes Victor, so do I. It also shows that you do love Betty deeply to make up for your unmanliness in such a delightful manner." While their comments were meant to be well meaning, I nevertheless was thoroughly humiliated and disgraced. Betty carried her mom home, and from there was going on to her date. Mother stayed behind. "Victor, I too am proud that you're doing what needs to be done to save your marriage. Betty is a woman that deserves what other well endowed men can do for her. You do your part and they do theirs. That's all there is to it. By the way, do you like the taste of her used cunt?" "M-Mother p-please! I-I just d-do it b-because... W-What are y-you ..." "Just as I thought, your little pecker is hard as a rock. You like the taste of spent jism." She said as she unexpectedly grabbed the small bulge in my pants under the table. As she hugged me, tears of shame swelled up in my eyes. I tried to hold back but there had been just too much humiliation and disgrace for me to endure. Once she knew I was teary eyed she urged me to have a good cry. It was no use I couldn't hold back. She held me like a little boy and helped me wipe the tears away as they came down in torrents. Ten minutes later I was through. I felt better, but also a little more embarrassed. Mom let me know that she knew this day was coming and she's glad I did the responsible thing. She also told me she'd also been to see Reverend Davis after my wife first told her of the counseling. "Dear, you and I have a counseling session with Reverend Davis tonight. There is something else you need to become proficient at if you are determined to hold on to your wife. You've gone this far, you might as well go a little further if you really want to do the right thing and save your marriage." After a bite to eat, she and I went to see the Reverend. What she and he wanted me to learn caused my head to spin. "Y-You w-want m-me to ." "Yes Victor, Fellatio will be something you may have to do to show your wife's lovers that they can feel comfortable in your home with your wife or that she has your blessing to date them. I had planned to address this later, but your mother thought it should be sooner and that you might feel more at ease doing your first practice session with her present than with your wife." "And then later sweetie, after you're more comfortable with your unmanliness, you'll be more comfortable doing it with her present. She or her men will insist on some cocksucking later." Mother said as she held my hand and urged me to my knees as the pastor lowered his pants to exhibit his giant cock which I'd seen several times to date. "You did real well doing your first blow job dear." Spoke mom as she pecked me on the cheek as we again sat down at my kitchen table after returning from church. She drove us back home, as I was still in a mild state of disbelief and shock at what I let she and the minister persuade me to do. They had made me a cocksucker. And the odd thing is that it really wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. However, I was still too much ashamed to feel guilt free. Mother insisted I talk about every aspect of my fist blow job. She had me describe the feel of his rock hard penis between my lips, the force of his ejaculation, the number of spurts, how it felt to swallow his copious thick rich cream, and so on and so on. If nothing else she did help me get over my shame the more we talked. "And sweetie, one valuable thing you've learned from this is why your wife needs a real man built like the Reverend to sex her. You've gained first hand knowledge of the stamina and how much a load and a good fuck he can give her as compared to you, right?" "Y-Yes ma'am". I replied sheepishly as she looked me deep in my eyes smiling from ear to ear. I felt so inadequate as even my own mom forced me to admit that I was not a real man, even in her eyes. This was also another nights of firsts. Before mother left she let me have intercourse with her. I was ashamed, but also thankful. She required me suck her out afterwards and let me know that giving me some was my reward for doing such a good job at giving the pastor head. She and I were scheduled for two more sessions with him. Those sessions were in addition to the ones Betty and I were going to. The Pastor decided that we'd tell Betty about my cocksucking training later. CHAPTER THREE: A Year Later "Y-You c-can't mean that Betty. S-Surely ..." "Victor, my mine is made up. I want to have his baby." My wife told me sternly as I sat with my head reeling. I'd put up with so much humiliation and debasement over the past year for her and the marriage, and now this. No matter how much I pleaded, she refused to change her mind. I then decided to talk to Charlie, her stud for whom she wanted the baby from. I got on my knees and begged him not to get her pregnant. "Please Charlie, can't you talk her out of it. I-I have done everything y'all have asked of me. B-But this is ." "Of course I really don't want the slut. She's a good fuck, but I'm not in the mood to be a dad. But the idea of impregnating her does have a certain appeal. No Victor, I'm not going to change her mind. Now you know she just might pick Jim or Theo to do her too. And you have to be on the watch out for her leaving you if you don't come around." His words only added to my misery. Would she really leave me? He looked at me pathetically as I was getting off my knees and getting ready to leave. "Hey stay there! You might as be useful while you're here. My dick's hard from all this talk about the bitch. Here suck it for me." To some it may be perverted for me to do that for him, but over the last year, I've sucked him and other of my wife's lovers when she wanted me to or when they stopped by and she wasn't at home. So tonight I was just doing it one more time." As I drove home with Charlie's hefty load of jism in my gut, I knew I couldn't bear the thought of my wife leaving. Upon arriving home, our mother and Reverend Davis was there. They all greeted me warmly. Betty and I sat together on the love seat holding hands as everyone was basically trying to convince me that what my wife desired was okay. As I looked at her and recalled all the times she'd come back to me used and full of her regular lovers as well as other strange men's fuck juices, my heart always leapt as we embraced and I lapped and loved and cleaned her up with my mouth. I was in the background, playing second fiddle and always getting all her leftover love and her many lover's lusty leavings, but yet I loved her. I had been faithful to her. She and the Reverend didn't consider my occasional couplings with mom being unfaithful, but more like mother and son quality time, since it was clear I was a mama's boy. "Victor, it would be the highest proof of love you could show your wife and your fellow man, by agreeing to her having his baby. Seeing his seed growing and swelling in her will cause you to love her more, knowing that she is happy being swollen with his child but yet married to you." "The Reverend is right Victor, you can't expect your wife to be happy pregnant if she's not happy getting impregnated by the man she wants to do it to her. And baby, you know it's not you." Mom's words hurt, but I knew what she said was true. "I do love you honey, but you know you'll never be able to give me the kind of fuck that will reached the back of my pussy and bang up against my cervix and force that hot seed right in me. Being a woman, you just don't know what a wondrous and joyful feeling that comes from being knocked up by the man that sexes you that way." We kissed passionately after her eyes became teary upon describing her feelings. "I love you Victor, and you're good to me. But I need my other men, my real men. I could never be happy with us having a baby, unless one of my real men gave it to me." She spoke softly to me. I was hurt, felt defeated, but yet knew I still loved her. As we continued to embrace, I quietly pondered what to do. I could go for divorce, but that really wasn't a choice since I had so much invested in my marriage. I could feel the eyes of the others in the room. Feeling helpless and vanquished by my destiny, I softly capitulated to my wife's wishes to get pregnant by her lover. The others in the room were all smiles at my surrender. They were the kind of smiles that knew I'd been beaten and conquered and once again forced into a situation with guaranteed humiliation for me. I'd sunk so low in my attempts to hold on to her. I'd assumed that things couldn't get any get any worse in me trying to hold our marriage together. CHAPTER 4: FIVE YEARS LATER I'd just put our two year old to bed and am keeping our four year old occupied as my wife is preparing to go out with one of her latest steady lovers. She now has three who consume almost all her time. She let me know tonight that she plans to have a baby from him also, as she has done with her other two favorite studs. As with the second baby, she didn't ask, but told me. She knew my will was too broken to mount any serious resistance to her. Our mothers and the Reverend assisted greatly in my not only accepting my being a cuckold but also my complete submission to my wife's desires and needs. However, this time I pleaded with her to consider the consequences and the further humiliation and debasement it would cause me if she had this third child. "Betty dear, I-it's bad enough now when I go out and people know that the kids don't look anything like me, but if you ..." "I am, and you'll just have to be the proud daddy as you have with the our other two kids darling." She kissed me, told me she loved me, and let me know her decision was final and that there was to be no further discussion. I knew better than to challenge her anymore. Changing subject, she then told me a list of chores she wanted done before I went to bed. I was feeding the four year old when my wife's date came to pick her up. As was usual, I kept the kitchen door partially closed to keep him from being seen by our daughter. However, I peeked out as the handsome well built black man, named Steve, greeted my wife with a fervent wet French kiss and ran his hands all over her shapely ass. He saw me out of the corner of his eye and winked and waved at me as they stilled embraced. I meekly waved back, feeling totally helpless, and simultaneously with my cock swelling in my pants. I knew I'd have to jerk off after putting our daughter to bed. My wife and he looked so exotic and passionate in each other's arms, as their contrasting skin hues added to the lusty sight before me. Steve and I knew each other. I've eaten his cum from her pussy numerous times as well as sucked his big dick for her. As I went about my chores, I thought constantly about Steve and my wife. I guess I knew it would come to this, but didn't want to admit to the fact that she would have a black baby for us. I was horrified at the thought of bringing the baby to church and feeling the stares of our neighbors and friends. They already think I'm the lowest level of a wimp. This will only serve to validate it. Even though my mind is walking through all the abject humiliation I'm certain to face, my prick is stiff as a fireplace poker. After reading our daughter her bedtime story and tucking her in, I relaxed a bit with a stiff drink. I decided to call mom. "I thought you'd be calling me sweetie . Yes she told us." Mom told me in an upbeat un-surprised tone of voice. "B-But mother, d-do you know what'd be like for me to claim I'm the father? W-Why I-I'd l-look like the b-biggest fool." "I understand dear. You know how she likes to tease you a bit from time to time. But she thinks telling the truth might be the best thing." "T-The truth?" "Yes! We'd have the pastor announce in church that due to problems at home Betty yielded to temptation, strayed, and got pregnant from her black lover. But you, the loving devoted husband, very much in love with her, would not hear of an abortion, forgave her, and accepted the child as your own." Quietly, I thought about it. `I may even come out of this as a respected cuckold', I thought to myself. Mother and I talked a while longer before hanging up. My mind was still reeling. I knew the scenario she'd painted more than likely would be the way things pan out, especially since it involved the Reverend. If the past was any indication, I knew after she's confirmed her impregnation, the Reverend would be by to "pray" with her in our bedroom. He always makes sure I'm home for these "prayers". Afterwards he seems to relish telling me to "tend to my wife". As he's leaving or playing with our the kids, I go suck up his lusty mess. My wife is always in seventh heaven when I do this. I guess that's really what counts. The Reverend was also a prime influence in my wife's and our mother's decision to use corporal punishment to "keep me in line". Here's what happened one time. The women thought I was a bit too outspoken and "sassy" to my wife about her not spending much time with me, as compared to the time she spent with her lovers and their friends. My wife accused me of being uncooperative and juvenile. "Maybe you need to be taught a good lesson about your proper place young man!" Mother stated authoritatively. "I agree! Victor, you just seem to be creating unnecessary turmoil. If you're going to be childish, maybe you need to be treated like one. Maybe you need a little thrashing to help you remember your place". My Mom-in-law added. The idea caught like wildfire. Before I knew what happened, they had agreed that I would be given 15 strokes of the cane after dinner after I put the baby to bed. This happened about 7 months after our first child was born - Charlie's baby, remember? I saw in their collective eyes they were dead serious. I meekly and quietly completed serving dinner. As I was bathing and preparing the baby for bed, mother went home to her house and returned with the short whippy cane she'd used on me frequently in my youth. As I walked down the stairs, all three were taking turns practicing using the awesome instrument, whose sting I was rather familiar with. At 27 I didn't want to experience such a thing again. I ran out with only car keys and drove to the Church. I was in luck, the Reverend greeted me. "My son, whatever is the matter." I told him the situation. "I was just coming by your place. I was feeling the need to come by and pray with your wife". He said with a snide smile. "C'mon, lets go back, I'm sure I can straighten this matter out to everybody's satisfaction." He inspired confidence in me as he spoke and patted me on the back. When we arrived, my wife was expecting the Reverend. However, all three women were furious at me for running away. I was accused of not being "man enough" to take my punishment. I stood behind the Reverend as the three stated their accusations. I had faith they would listen to the minister and that he would save me from what they had planned for me. Was I wrong. "Victor, is it true what they say?" He inquired. "Well sir, I-I did say that s-she could at least spend one night home with me this week. I-I didn't mean to sound brash o-or angry. I-It just came out the wrong way. I-I'm sorry Betty." I said apologetically. "It's a bit late for that. It's going to take a lot more than that to atone for what you did." My wife said as she swung the cane though the air with a swishing noise. A chill of terror ran down ran down my back as I shuddered. "Victor, remember when you were told that you would have to make sacrifices to be the husband it took to help your wife fulfill her needs expected in a marital union, and for which you were unable to provide?" "Y-Yes sir." I replied meekly. "Well then, it just looks like you forgot, that's all. Am I right son?" "Y-Yes sir." "And you don't want to forget that again do you?" "Oh! N-No Sir." I replied quickly hoping he'd found a way out for me. "Well then, what the women want to do is to make sure you don't forget again. And since you want the same thing, I see no reason why you shouldn't accept the little reminder they want to give you. I think it will definitely help your memory." By the time I'd figured out I'd been duped and outfoxed, he and the three women were leading me the basement. Mother had one hand and he the other. The were both too strong for me. They literally carried me down the stairs. I pleaded and begged. My wife warned me it would be even worse if I woke the baby. As the minister held me down across a cot with my face buried in a pillow to muffle my screams, my wife and our moms each took their turns on my quivering grating naked ass cheeks. All I remember was "SWISH!" "CRACK" and the feeling of fire wherever the slender rod impacted. This happened 18 times. When all was satisfied that I'd been punished properly I was allowed to stand and thank the Reverend and my three smiling inquisitioners. I was sobbing profusely with tears raining down my face. I begged for forgiveness and thanked them almost simultaneously. The other most embarrassing thing was the raging erection I had. Everyone noticed it and commented how I too agreed with my punishment. At that moment I wanted to crawl in a hole and bury myself. As my wife led the Reverend to our bedroom, our moms removed their dresses and panties and had me pay oral homage to their very moist hairy cunts. After I'd gotten both of them off several times, mother then had me come over her knees and administered ointment on my ravaged backside. Even though the ointment was soothing, the mere application of it was also painful. I knew I'd be feeling the effects of my whippings for days to come. The welts were just so pronounced. "You won't be forgetting your place anytime soon will you baby?" She said with a slight chuckle. "N-No ma'am". I replied in a docile and tame manner. Every since that first time, it has been about every six months or so the three women find some excuse to cane me. I seem to sense when my whipping is coming. No matter how careful I am in doing the household chores or anything else, I end up getting severely punished. I've just come to accepting this as something the three of them get turned on doing, and that I'm their vehicle to get their jollies. I accidentally came to this conclusion after finding a book at mother's when my wife loaned me out to her to thoroughly clean her place. A WOMAN'S BOOK: THE PLEASURES OF SEEING WEAK MALES HUMILIATED AND PUNISHED was the title. Everything fell into place. I now knew why mom seem to delight in my emotional and physical humiliation. The worse part were notes in the book that confirmed that I was masochistic and that she was just being the good mother to give me what I needed. I wept, but secretly knew she was right. CHAPTER 5: OUR THIRD CHILD Just as mother had said, the scenario she'd explained 10 months before, was the one that played out. Our beautiful black baby son was christened by the Reverend after he announced the scheme to the congregation. I was surprised at how many people gave us well wishes and congratulated me on being the man I was. My wife was also praised for her courage. It was really the first time I've felt respect by our neighbors, even though I realize they still laugh at me and secretly say what a milquetoast cuckold wimp I am. My wife has let me know that there will probably be no more kids. However, she is still stepping out to fulfill the needs my tongue can't provide her. I of course do the babysitting, house hold chores and faithfully wait for her whenever she returns, and continue to do whatever it takes to maintain the household and keep my marriage together. THE END Comments or future story ideas: Contact C.D.E.at [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c February 2005 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form or sold for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. STORY CONTENT: Cuckoldry, MMM+/F, MMM+/M, Mdom, Fdom, TV, Male Feminization, Mind Control WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Father & Son Cuckolds Part 3 By C.D.E. Before you read this story, please heed the story content bar above, as well as the general content caution warnings. This story is probably not everyone's cup of tea for a cuckold theme. ABSTRACT: When Victor begins dating the vivacious Vy, he had no idea of the path that he and his family would end up on, after being introduced to, and then persuaded, then manipulated, and then totally controlled by his future in- laws. Victor also finds out his mother is not the woman he thought she was. His mom is not only tempted by the lewd temptation cast her way by Vy's handsome black stepfather, but is willing and eager sexual prey for him. That leads to her aiding Victor's new father-in-law to subjugate not only her son, Victor, but his dad as well, in a most interesting, but degrading manner. This story is focused on the ordeal of father and son under the manipulation, psychological domination, and outright subjugation under their wives and their in-laws. And yes, our favorite relationship counselor has a key role in the action here. Dr. Judy is very much in evidence after being brought in by the cunning Mr. Jones, Vy's step-father. CAST: Husband - Victor Victor's wife - Vy Vy's Father - Mr. Jones Vy's Mother - Mrs. Jones Victor's mother and father (((((( FAMILY MEETING ))))))) It was Friday night. I went over to my folks for another special family meetings. The subject matter seems to always be the same, my marriage or my in-laws - namely my Father-in-law, Mr. Jones. Mother usually calls these meetings when she believes we need to sit and talk about important issues. Tonight the topic was a proposal by Mr. Jones and the objections to it raised by dad and I. "Mother, y-you really don't see anything wrong with Dad and I doing this for Mr. Jones?" "No honey I don't. Your father has also tried to get me to take a stand against Mr. Jones too. But I won't. He has just been too good to and for me, and well for our marriage." I could sense that mother wasn't about to resist what my father-in-law wanted of her own son and her husband. "Sweetie, I love you and your father greatly, but is it asking too much for you two to cooperate and do this little favor for Mr. Jones? He thinks you two are a natural and will bring in the money." "L-Little Favor? B-But mother, it's bad enough doing it f-for him a-and his sons a-and their friends. B-But it's a-another thing to-to..." "You might as well save your breath son. S-She has made up her mind. You and I will just have to accept what he wants us to do. You know neither of us has the will to confront and talk him out of doing this." Dad said with a pathetic tone in his voice. "Your father is right Victor. Plus Mr. Jones says to raise the money he needs it shouldn't take more than a year if business is good. Plus, he's already gotten his wife, Vy and me sold on his idea. I don't see why you two should be left out if we women are willing to go along with his plans." "I-I see." Was all I could say in reply. "I don't see why you and your father think you're too good to be sissy whores and take some strange dicks too. Anyway, neither of you are strangers to having a dick in your mouth or up your cute asses." Mother went on to remind father and I how long we have been cocksuckers and have given up our asses for mercy fucks by Vy's dad and her two brothers. I've kinda jumped ahead here, so I need to stop here and tell you, the reader, how dad and I got into cocksucking. ((((((HOW DAD & I BECAME COCKSUCKERS)))))) Dad and I were introduced into being cocksuckers a few weeks before my wedding to Vy. I was introduced first at one of Dr. Judy's sessions. She thought I should have a more intimate knowledge of a real man's dick and balls. She started me into what she called cock and cum adoration, which lead into me being a full-blown cocksucker. To help me bond closer with my in-laws, Dr. Judy solicited Mr. Jones and his two sons to help me with my cock and cum adoration therapy. In a very short period of time, I was sucking on their very large, thick veined black dicks, frequently and often. Mr. Jones and his son's dicks were very similar, except that his was a bit longer. Each of their dicks were each about 8" long, thick in cross section, very straight - no curvature - with a wide flared head and a very pronounced pee slit. Both Dr. Judy, as well as Mr. Jones strongly emphasized, and demanded, that all ejaculate that was shot off in my mouth - no exceptions, was to be swallowed. They both made it clear that their was to be no spitting out a load under any circumstances. "There is to be no disrespect shown to any man that allows you the honor of sucking him off." Dr. Judy told me in a stern tone. To my amazement, I got very acclimated and fond of the taste of the men's gushing hot jism and actually delighted in swallowing the heavy slime being ejaculated in my mouth. It usually left a warm trail as it slid down my gullet. Dr. Judy was very pleased at my progress and to hear me tell her these things. Then after Mr. Smith started fucking mother and cuckolding dad in the process, dad was also initiated into cock and cum adoration and into being a cocksucker for the very man who cuckolded him. Like me, dad also was a frequent sucker of Mr. Jones' two sons, as well as a few of their, and their father's friends. When I first started sucking their rather large dicks, I couldn't help but admire how handsome and stately they were. I became ashamed of my admiration for them as well as the delight of having them erupt in my mouth spurting and spewing their hot manly discharge and coating my tongue, gums and tonsils. As my mouth filled with their gooey richness, I submissively and efficiently suckled it all down. After their ejaculation subsided, I softly milked the men's softening dicks for any residual oozing cum dregs. I was ashamed of just how satisfied I felt having sucked their man meat, consumed their lusty creamy outpouring, and now relishing that I had it in me. (((DAD & I TRY TO BREAK THE HABIT))))) After some time, dad and I both discovered that we were becoming ashamed of our coerced delight at being cocksuckers and mutually decided that it was time to simply quit. However, we both came to see it wasn't that easy. You see, My. Jones and his sons weren't people you just said no to, especially when their dicks were hard and they were excepting you to get their hard dicks sucked off. In addition, Dr. Judy thought that instead of trying to cut back and quit, we should do it even more, and more frequently. Even though dad and I had come to respect Dr. Judy as someone who seemed to have all the right answers, we had not quite considered ourselves as full blown fags who thrived on having some man's dick meat between our lips. We devised a plan where we would get the ladies, that is mom and Vy to talk to them. The plan was for the women to appeal to the Jones men's sense of decency and get them to see that it just wasn't right for dad and I to be their, or anybody else's cocksuckers. "Victor, remember now, Dr. Judy has said that it's good for you... and your dad too, to suck dicks and swallow a few hefty loads every week. She says it'll help both of you maintain a sense of understanding just how insignificant you two are as compared to real men. "Otherwise, you both potentially may fall back into a mode of exhibiting a silly false sense of pride where you may start believing that you all are equal to the type of real men whose dicks you've been sucking on. Understand?" "I-I understand Vy, b-but I-I wish that your dad a-and brothers didn't..." "Darling, they're only trying to be helpful in helping you and your dad better understand and adjust to what is best for you. It's for the same reason why I also fed you my cum filled pussy and why your mom is doing the same for your dad - that is, after other men fuck her. That's what Dr. Judy and all of us are doing, nothing more. And we all expect you and your dad to swallow every load that's shot off in your mouths, nothing less is unacceptable. Remember the slogan that Dr. Judy taught you? "Y-Y-Yes." "Say it for me honey." "D-Do I-I hav..." "DAMN IT! SAY IT!" "S-Suck every d-dick to completion a-and s-swallow every l-load completely." "Very good Victor. Now, just as we've all told you and your dad repeatedly, sucking dicks a dozen or so times a week is really not that big a deal, and you two should not feel the least bit offended in doing that if dad, my brothers and their friends want you to do theirs on demand. We love you and your dad. Enough of your negativism darling, you must have a positive mental attitude about being a cock and cunt sucker and cum eater. All right?" "O-Okay Vy, I-I see your point." I said feeling overwhelmed, and again made to feel guilty, because I was questioning why dad and I were being expected to suck so many dicks and so often. Later that evening after talking with dad, he also admitted not being successful with mom on the same subject. "No son, she two was very favorable of us continuing to be cocksuckers for Vy's step-father, brothers and their many friends. As Vy said to you, your mother also strongly believes that we must stay the course." Dad came to the conclusion that the best thing for us was to be satisfied with our situation and continue to submit and suck when asked or told. "And get fucked too." I added softly. "Yes son, SIGH!... you're right." Was all dad said as gave a loud sigh with his words. We were both fearful that if we showed any more reluctance, Dr. Judy might also increase our monthly number of paddle strokes in our "anti-non-cooperation" training therapy. Paddle strokes that were given to us by our respective wives. Dr. Judy had also discussed giving Mr. Jones the privilege of paddling us too. Something we both didn't want to happen. ((((BACK TO OUR FAMILY MEETING )))) Mother's assertion about us as sissy whores did cause us shame, however, the truth of the matter was that dad and I had become acclimated to sucking the three Jones's dicks - Mr. Jones and his two adult sons, and a select few of their friends. We also had become very acclimated to the taste of their thick gooey slimy hot semen. Even though embarrassed and ashamed of our acquired taste for the jism fed us, Dad and I also were just as humiliated that we loved eating our wives sloppy gloppy cunts. Creampie pussy made that way after better men than us, had fucked our wives. Dr. Judy knew this and steered us, through her therapy, to see this as nothing to be ashamed of, but rather to be proud of. She strongly urged us to revel in the fact that we found the taste of used messy slimy pussy delicious. Dr. Judy was always encouraging Dad and I to become more uninhibited in our thoughts and actions to counter our perceived shame at seeing ourselves as becoming more effeminate. She urged and drove us to become un-restrained in our thoughts and let ourselves fully embrace more effeminate promiscuous behavior, and not see anything wrong with doing so. "You two should feel comfortable sucking any man's dick at anytime or place if asked." She said to us. Through her therapy, she soon had us wearing panties, garter belts, nylons, and lacy camisoles regularly under our normal male clothes. In addition, she had dad and I taking "Dressing in Drag" lessons. As part of our therapy, we were required to occasionally dress in partial, or total drag during the weekends, while we serviced the Jones men, and occasionally a few of their buddies. We often did this sexual service in front of our wives, and Mrs. Jones. The women always seem to get a kick out of seeing us take care of the men. And always at such times, dad and I were the "oral clean up maids" for the slimy dicks and over flowing gloppy cunts that resulted from all the fucking that occurred on such events. Having to suck and milk on slimy, pussy gunk covered dicks, became a staple at these orgy events. Dad and I came up with the term "chocolate cream bars", since the dicks in our mouths were always black. The men often forced us to suckle them slowly, rather than just lick and lap their large stately penises clean. As a result, their cocks many times would erect and they made us continue sucking on them until they erupted in our mouths to a full creamy completion. Dad and I both experienced the same odd feeling, when the soft flaccid cock we were cleaning and milking for oozing cum, would slowly erect between our lips. It was a feeling of strange self-satisfaction. I say that because despite dad and I having a gripe for being dominated and subjugated, as we were by Mr. Jones and his family. We nevertheless couldn't deny that we both admired the magnificence of the men's penises we had to attend to, even if in such a servile and debasing manner. We both didn't know how much of this came from Dr. Judy's training or from within us - that is since we were both short dick guys. Nevertheless, if the man became erect as a result of our handling and mouthing efforts, it gave us both a strange sense of accomplishment. If the man chose to reward us with his creamy cum, that added to our sense of achievement. Dr. Judy also stressed that dad and I should always feel a sense of bonding and connectivity to a man whose cum was in us. She always told us "You should always feel good knowing you're carrying a real man's sperm in you. If others know about it, that should cause you to have an even greater sense of pride." Dr. Judy would also strongly encourage dad and I to talk at length about this subject, as well as about how we felt as we also licked many, many sets of hairy balls. Her goal was to get us to see that such acts and gestures of subservience was beneficial to us achieving an inner serenity and peace of mind. "Victor, it's good and therapeutic for you and your dad to talk openly and freely about these experiences. Just as I've repeatedly advised and counseled both of you that masturbation is a normal natural sexual act for you two, and for it to be your sole means of sexual satisfaction, if that's the way your wives desire it to be. "In addition, I want you two to also accept that it's completely normal and natural for you and your dad to perform oral clean up of your wives and their lovers. You two should also be proud and delighted at consuming the left over fluids of their lusty encounters." Dad and I had it drilled into us over and over again by Dr. Judy, that it was our responsibility to deal with men's spend to the satisfaction of the man ejaculating. "You two are natural cum consumers and should swallow all that you suck out of dicks or out of cunts." Dr. Judy said to us. Another thing that especially delighted Dr. Judy, as well as the Jones and their men friends, was that dad and I had become exceptional at being deep throated. We both were able to take dicks deep in our throats and accept men's powerful ejaculations with none or minimal choking and gagging. Dad and I had become accustomed to these strong men occasionally slamming their rigid dicks to the back of our throats and holding our heads as they shot their copious hot gooey loads. Dr. Judy was very proud of us for adapting and accepting this as something to expect and being comfortable treated that way. Dr. Judy was very satisfied at her contribution to our cocksucking and pussy sucking efficacy as well as helping us to be unashamed at becoming voracious cum eaters. Dad and I both were still rather embarrassed that we were being treated like sissies by our wives and "their real men". However, Dr. Judy's calming voice, and guidance helped us to see that it was normal and natural for them to do so, and that we should be comfortable and confident that we could do the things expected of "good" sissies. Dad and I were told by Dr. Judy that we had to accept that we were naturally submissive and not strong enough to resist such real men as the assertive Jones (and their friends), as they imposed themselves on us mentally and sexually. Dr. Judy encouraged us to openly and freely talk about our experiences with the Jones men and their interaction with our wives. She also required dad and I to mutually, and slowly stroke each other's pricks during these sessions. It was during these sessions that Dr. Judy frequently mentored us on tips and techniques at how to better please men's dicks. Dad and I at first were not very talkative about such things at these sessions. However, as time went on and the more times we sucked cocks, we found ourselves participating more in the discussions with Dr. Judy. She was very delighted, I might add. These sessions also dwelled on being better cunt suckers as well as feeling good about having to deal with men's semen given to us from spurting dicks or lapped up from cunts. Dad and I had to admit that Dr. Judy really helped us have a positive mental attitude about being submissive cocksuckers and cuckolds, and especially about us getting ass fucked. Dr. Judy had us accept that it was better for us to capitulate to the will of the Jones men and our wives, than resist them. She also got us to see that it was easy to adapt to this lifestyle change and for it to be a normal part of our marriages too. But back to Mr. Jones whoring out his harem of Dad & I along with his wife, his daughter - my wife - and mother. You see Mr. Jones wants to raise a large sum of money to build a mansion on some land he has. A house big enough for all of us to live in together. A house where we all will be at his beck and call - sexually and otherwise. We were not thrilled at his idea, but again dad and I knew that we were not strong enough to stand up to the imperious Mr. Jones, or the strong willed women - our wives - who were very much influenced, if not under Mr. Jones' total control. Dad and I both feared what it's going to be like if we have to live under the same roof with him as our "master of the manor". However, dad was afraid that Mr. Jones could take mother away from him, since Mr. Jones had won her over with his seemingly ever-hard big dick and ability to make her have multiple orgasms. Dad, like me with my new bride, being of less that average endowment always had a difficult time getting mother off without using his mouth as a supplement in addition to the action of his small prick. When Mr. Smith seduced mother in such a brazen manner, Mr. Smith also invited dad to start cleaning up mother's cunt with his mouth after Mr. Smith had used her to his "fucking" satisfaction. Dad had only been in a few sessions with Dr. Judy at the time, but got to feeling better about being unmanly, but a bit reticent to taste another man's jism. However, when mother urged him on, or face losing her - in fact she insisted and demanded that he suck her lover's jism from her slimy sloppy pussy - dad capitulated to do as the woman he loved desired of him. "When she told him "Honey, just because you're licking another man's cum out of my pussy won't change my feelings about you as a real man. You just have to remember that your tongue makes me feel good and my knowing you're lapping and sucking up the spermy leavings of a better man helps my mental kink. A kink that not even Mr. Jones and his big robust dick can give me. Through your wonderful suction, you're not only helping me relive the delight his cock has given me, but your mouth will actually intensify it dear. So honey, please, no more talk. Just put your mouth on my pussy and make me happy like only you as my husband can." Even though humiliated, her words did offer some comfort to dad that she still loved and needed him, even if not in the way he would desire it to be. While dad was somewhat upset about the way Mr. Jones had taken over mother, but he had to concede that she was getting more good sex in the last few weeks than the whole of their many years of marriage. Like me, even though we both didn't like him, we both had to admire Mr. Jones's macho manner and masterful ways. My future bride had warned me that her father had a few quirks that I might have to get use to in order to get on his good side. Little did I ever realize that it would go to the extent that it has and the effect her father would have on my family, our lifestyles, and me. (((A SESSION WITH DR. JUDY ABOUT SUCKING COCKS)))) "Victor, all throughout history, the real men in society have imposed themselves on lesser men when it came to such situations as you and Mr. Jones and his sons found themselves. You being of lesser stature and with your experience as a sucker of used pussy, you were the obvious choice to suck their throbbing dicks and taste their hot sperm. Plus they were your in-laws and what better way for you to bond closer with them than to taste their penis meat and drink down their cum. By the way, was it hot and gooey?" "Y-Yes a-and there w-was so much of it too. T-Their spurts were so forceful too." I replied. Afterwards I wondered if I shouldn't have answered her question. That is, because I've noticed with Dr. Judy, once she gets you talking, she'll keep persisting for more and more information. Mother was present at this session with dad and I. She was listening intently at the discussion. This was her first time at one of our sessions with Dr. Judy. After a few moments of listening, she interjected and made a proposal. "Victor, I think your mother's idea of a demonstration is a great one. You two sucking each other's cock will give you an idea of the difference between a real man like Mr. Jones and a lesser males like you two." Spoke Dr. Judy gleefully. Neither dad nor I together were able to dissuade mother or Dr. Judy in their desire for us to humiliate ourselves even further than we'd done before. After a short while, we were both mentally browbeaten. He and I could not find any further mental resolve to resist the two strong willed women, and hence capitulated to their demand. It seemed that whenever Dr. Judy would make it clear that there was no other alternative to one of her ideas, suggestions, or recommendations, dad and I would always resign ourselves to the fact that we had to obey her without further questioning. "Good! Now that you two are undressed, here let's get you properly positioned." Spoke Dr. Judy as she and mother led dad and I to arrange us into a head-to-toe "69" posture. "There, now you're ready. All nice and firm for your son's mouth. Is he ready too?" Dr. Judy asked of mother who was also slowly fondling my prick in the same manner as was Dr. Judy doing for dad. "Oh yes, my baby's little peter is quite ready for he and his dad to spend some quality, father son time together." Spoke mother with glee in her voice. It was obvious she was rather thrilled at our perverted predicament. Yet, even though I thought of it as perverted, I was nevertheless excited at the pleasure I was soon to receive in the warm wet confines of dad's mouth. And I assumed so was he, for his very erect prick, which was right in my face and slightly longer than my 4 inches. "Ready! Set! SUCK!" Shouted mother as she and Dr. Judy simultaneously guided each of our throbbing cocks into each other's mouths and urged us on in our double oral efforts. Despite the degradation we were being made to suffer, the need for relief overruled our concerns about decency. You see, Dr. Judy had made us wear cock locks for 2 straight weeks, so dad and I were horny. "SLURP! SLURP! SLURP!" The mingled sounds of our feverish sucking sounds filled the air. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see mother her dress raised, hand in panties, rubbing herself off and obviously enjoying the spectacle before her on the floor. Dad and I were fucking each other's mouths eagerly as we tightly gripped each other's naked ass cheeks to make sure we were providing as much pleasure as we were giving. Those were Dr. Judy and mother's condition for permitting us to get off this way. I don't think either dad or I knew why, but we felt we just had to do as we were told. A short time later, we both were ejaculating into each other's sucking devouring mouths and swallowing each other's cum wantonly. Mother was also getting off at the same moment. After dad and I settled down and begin to uncouple, our soft flaccid pricks slipped from each other's drooling lips. It was then that we noticed that Dr. Judy was busy video taping the entire scene, including mom, who exhibited no shame at her open unabashed masturbation actions. Then as if nothing else could go awry for dad and I, in walks Mr. Jones and his two sons. He called his sons over and he and them had dad and I suck each of them off also in front of mother and Dr. Judy's camera. Needless to say, our humiliation was great. The three of them each shot very respectable gooey slimy loads into each of our mouths. Dad and I both were too shocked and ashamed to resist being subjugated by the group. Mother was also fucked by each of the Jones, and both dad and I had to lick and eat her out a few times, all in front of Dr. Judy's camera. After everyone had composed and redressed, the Jones left and mother went with them. Mr. Jones loudly told dad and I he had some tricks for mother to take care of. Dad and I cringed somewhat, but sat silent as mother eagerly and cheerfully rushed to go with the three men to do her share of whoring for Mr. Jones. She threw dad and I a kiss as she told him not to wait up late. We were left with Dr. Judy. "Don't look so sad." Dr. Judy said looking at dad. "I bet you find yourself anxiously waiting to taste her frequently fucked whorish pussy, the more it is flavored with the semen of hundreds, if not thousands of loads from different and strange men's dicks, the better it'll taste to you. And that applies to you too Victor in reference to Vy." "Y-Yes ma'am." I sheepishly replied as dad looked at me, and I at him. He said nothing. You see dad and I had observed that as mother fucked more, her soft hairy pussy meat indeed did develop a more full bodied richer taste. A taste very similar to what I'd been accustomed to with my new bride. Dr. Judy had repeatedly told me that "sucking your wife's fucked slimy frothy dripping cunt, after a real man had made it messy that way, is one of the most intimate expressions of love a husband can give his wife. "It is even more touching and cherished by her if you eat her out after a group of men gang bang her and leave you all of their melded gloppy gooey spend to consume." Dad and I both had come to realized the reality of her wisdom, for it was true, both our wives really were thrilled and ecstatic about our loving oral affection to their adulterous jism oozing cunts. Mother by all definitions, was already a seasoned slut when Mr. Jones asked her to whore for him. So it wasn't a big transition for her, or Vy or Vy's mother. It was for dad and I, for we'd only sucked the dicks of the three Jones and select friends of theirs - and each other's pricks and only earlier that afternoon. Dr. Judy seemed to be reading our minds. "I know you two are a bit worried about sucking for cash. Don't be, the most important thing for you two to worry about is taking care of the customers. Let Mr. Jones handle everything else. "Just remember, keep your teeth out of the way and always swallow the customer's jism. To do otherwise is a sign of disrespect." She went on to give a pep talk and to let us know that we should revel in the abundant loads of semen that men will impart to us. "I know you two haven't sucked a lot of dicks, or drank a large variety of real men's warm gooey sperm. But You've got the basics down from the many blowjobs you've given the Jones. So don't sweat it. I just know both of you will do well as suck whores. And just as with the Jones, I want you to lick all the men's balls for them. That'll make you a hit with all your customers or Johns. Okay?" Dad and I could only look at her and slowly shake our head - that is up and now. Dr. Judy, being the concerned doctor that she is, also gave us more of the previous sissy douche she'd provided before when we prepared ourselves for the first time for the Jones. Mother oversaw dad and my preparations that first time. Mother was so excited as she helped up prepare and get us ready to be fucked by the same men - the Jones - who'd already fucked her numerous times. ((((MOTHER & DAD & I)))))) Instead of being more like a wife to him, mother has become more like a true mom to dad, as well as I, since our family entered what I like to call the "Jones era". I say that because mother has basically become enamored with Mr. Jones's big black dick and those of his twin sons as well as friends of both father and sons. Mother at this time had been fucked by many black studs, young ones (in their 20s) and those of Mr. Jones' age too. Mom just didn't have much time for giving dad some of her pussy, that is except to let him (and me many times) to suck her studs' jism out. It didn't take dad long to see that his role in the household had changed. However, even though mother was now exclusively now a cunt for black men to fuck, she nevertheless always remained nurturing to dad and I in our new roles as sissy males and husbands. Mother was a firm supporter of us following the philosophy and therapy of Dr. Judy, which stressed that it was better for dad and I to be submissive husbands, accept our lesser roles, and be as effeminate as our wives' real men desired of us. To that end, mother arranged that we three had dinner three times a week. As we ate and sat around the table, mother demanded that dad and I talk at length about our sexual activities during the week, including what we had been involved in and upcoming events. She did the same. She particularly liked for us to two to go into details on the size and shape of dicks that we sucked or got fucked by, as well as the taste of the man or men's jism, and how was it nuzzling on their hairy balls. Dad and I had to do that or she would get very angry. Therefore we did as she wanted, even if we had to make things up, which 99% of the time we didn't. She really liked us having discussions about the taste, volume, and characteristics of different men's creamy ejaculate. Sometimes dad and I would end up having a very free flowing discussion on this subject as well as on dick sizes and shapes. At times, he and I sounded like two whores discussing clients. It was easy to tell from her facial expression, that mother just loved hearing us talk. Mother also liked for us to talk about the names men called us as we sucked or were getting fucked by them. She also liked for us to talk about our feelings and what we were thinking about as we jack off - which is literally how dad and I get off most of the time. The other times, he and I did a 69 with each other, with the full approval and support of Vy and mom. These discussions have the overall effect of being very humiliating in two ways for us. For dad, hearing his wife talk of her lewd and outrageous wanton whorish ways with many different black men. This initially humiliated him horrendously. The same for me, because she was my mom. The second way for both of us, was talking of our cocksucking and being ass fucked, by different black men too. However, as dad and I slowly discovered over time, he and I became more like mother and had lost any shame we had, as we eagerly and freely discussed how well men fucked and filled us with their sperm, and treated us as low life sluts. As I mentioned earlier, Since mother was now more like an authority figure to dad and I, it seemed, whether she planned it or not, that dad and I eagerly sought her praise for our actions. Whether it was boasting of our dick taking and being a willing sperm receptacle for one or a group of horny black men, we each delighted in her approval or compliments of our achievements. Mother encouraged, condoned, and strongly supported our effeminate sissy behavior and always reinforced that we were doing the right thing for ourselves and our marital relationships. She stressed that our strength was in being submissive sissies and doing what she and Vy, and their men, demanded of us. It was always done in a very warm and caring nurturing manner. Dad and I appreciated her gentle maternal and parental approach as she stressed our strengths and our weaknesses, especially being worthless as men. "I'm so proud you two for all the wonderful things you do to please the men with their big hard dicks, and to take all that good hot sweet cum they give you as a reward. Here let me give both of my sissies a nice big hug." Mother said as she embraced each of us from where she was sitting at the round kitchen table. Looking at dad after embracing him, she said. "Dear, it really pleases me, and lets me know you truly love me to become a white fag whore for the black man fucking me and who has you jacking off because he has me denying you any." Mother said in a sweet tone to dad as she beamed a broad smile, that seemed to include a bit of a smirk, and kissed him on the forehead. Dad was pleased at the praise and only smiled, despite that I knew that the context of her words may have bothered him a bit. He said nothing. He later told me he figured it wouldn't add any value to the conversation, as it had already been decided that he had to become a sissy whore for Mr. Jones, whether he consented or not. That's just the way it was to be. Mother next looked at me. "Victor, your dad and I are so proud of you for the being the wonderful son you are, as well as the delightful husband you've developed into. Sweetie, your seeing the light, you did what you had to do to keep Vy yours to marry, is so commendable. You can be sure that you did the right thing to get back on your knees and lick up all the cum that her men friends deposited in her well-used cunt. You'll only happy by continuing to do that for her. "You set an example that your dad followed and that other white males should follow. You wife hardly has time for you or your little prick, and you remain faithful and steadfastly beat your meat off. That's the right thing for you to do dear. "Both of you'll do well as whores for Mr. Jones and you should be proud that he's giving you the opportunity to suck dicks for him." "Also Victor, Mr. Jones thinks we should start calling you Vicki." And from that time on, mother and even Vy did just that on frequent occasions. END PART 3

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright (C) FEBURARY 2015 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form or sold for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content: (Cuckold,M+/F, Mind Control (MC), MM, Inter, Impreg, FemDom, MDom) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Title: Memoirs of a Virgin Husband Author: C.D.E. CAST: Cecil - Husband Cora - Wife CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION My name is Cecil and my wife's name is Cora. We've been married for 20 years, and for my twentieth anniversary, she permitted me to finally consummate our marriage, that is, let me finally put my prick in her luscious pussy after all these years. So I guess you can say I've been a virgin husband up until now. However, I feel as if I've been having an out of body experience in my marriage all these years, as well as during a good part of my engagement before that. You see, I believe that my wife Cora J****** (her maiden name) and the J****** family have mind control powers and have used them on me and my family all these years. I say out of body experience, because while I'm doing what I'm being told or ordered to do, it's like it's not me actually performing them, or receiving the strange pleasures I experience. It's more like me watching someone else accomplishing the acts in question. Over the years, I've found it difficult getting others to believe me, so I felt it was time I try developing a written record of the events in my marriage as best I remember them. Many times I get confused about what is, and what use to be, before I met and eventually got married to Cora. Or maybe it's better to say, she married me. This is also a good time to reveal that I was the one that changed my last name when we were married. She wanted me to carry her family name. It was like I was the bride and not the bridegroom. This is just another instance of Cora overwhelming my will and convincing me it was a good thing to do. Also, I must ask the reader to please forgive me for any confusion that arises in my story telling. For as I write my story, this mind control or whatever it is, has caused me untold confusion over the years, as to what thoughts are truly mine, and what thoughts have been planted in my head, and made to seem to be mine. I've decided to write my story in 2 parts. Look upon the first part as a summary of my experiences from the time I met Cora to the present. Part 2 will be a mishmash of events or situations where I try to capture details and the full flavor of my feelings, emotions, and depth of the abject experiences that I underwent at some particular moment in time. Please note, despite that I felt I was being degraded and severely humiliated, I often couldn't help from feeling a strange and often intense pleasure from my own degradation. It is a fact, I was a virgin when we married. Mother insisted on that and made sure by having me wear an electronic genital control device that ensured I stayed chaste until my wedding day. It's quite a device - small and unobtrusive to normal body functions, except that it provides a mild shocking jolt if I try to masturbate or tend to an erection in any manner without mother's approval and supervision. I've been wearing such a device since before puberty. Mother made sure to get a device upgrade each time it was available over the years. I met Cora when I was 22 and I was still a prisoner to the device even at that age. Mother found it to be so successful that she made my dad wear one too. Mother's attitude is that a well behaved male is a controlled male. She has never been as articulate or said those exact words, but she sure practices that philosophy. So the reader can easily discern that I grew up in a household with a very controlling mother and wife. I was only allowed to sexual relief under mother's strict supervision, every 2 weeks or thereabouts. That's when she would electronically unlock the device on my genitals and permit me to beat myself off as she observed me. This was so embarrassing. However, I later discovered that dad faired only slightly better than I, as she only let him put it in every 2 weeks, or so also, and many times when she was not in the mood, he also had to jack off, and always under her watchful eyes. At 22 I was out of college and working in a financial management company. I wanted desperately to leave home, and my home town of Phantomville. However, mother was intent on that not happening under her watch. When I met Cora, or maybe I should say, when Cora met me, I thought for sure, I would finally get out from being under mother's tight fisted control and finally be free of that darn loin inhibiting device and finally be able to manage my own life. Little did I know that Cora's interest in me was ignited because I had been so molded into being a well behaved and mannerly "gentle-male" - mother's word. Mother also said I wouldn't be a man until she told me I was. This irked me, but there was nothing I could say. Cora came into my life like a blur, for very shortly after meeting her by accident in a deli one morn, where we both were buying bagels. She was taller and exhibited more of a physical stature than me. I guess one could say she was big boned, rather than being muscular or fat. She however, had a very beautiful face. That along with her dark hair, very shapely figure and sparkling Hazel colored eyes, made her quite lovely to behold. She started a conversation, and for the life of me, the next thing I know is that we had our first date the next day. That date was followed by 2 more before I found myself hopelessly in love and devoted to her desires. The real strange part of our budding relationship was that she seemed to always know what I was thinking about. I felt uneasy around her, not only because I never had a real girlfriend in high school, i.e., due to mother's meddling and constant control of my life, but because of Cora's beauty, and searching, but intense hypnotic eyes. I sincerely felt like she was giving me a mind scan. It was because of this feeling that I mentioned to her that I felt she had some type of mind control effect over me. She broke out laughing, and told me I was being silly, but never refuted my assertion. The day after our third date, Cora had insisted upon meeting my parents, who I had yet to tell any real details about Cora. You see, mother is a real busy body that still tries to control me, even though, I'm 22. I'm constantly trying to assert my independence from her, but I still can't seem to break away. I believe she means well, despite her iron grip on managing me and dad and our household. Dad and I both know that it's useless arguing with mother when she sets her mind on wanting us to do something. Dad has essentially conceded she's pussy whipped him, and while I have not, I have yet to disobey her in anyway. She too seems to have this strong mental hold over me that deter my being independent and breaking away from her domain. Well, after meeting Cora, both mother and dad were really impressed with her, especially mother. And even more so when, to my complete and utter surprise, when Cora revealed that "I will be requiring Cecil to be faithful to me, even though I will be having intimate dates and sexual relationships with other men in my life." Her words almost caused me to fall out of my chair, but for some reason, mother and dad, who seemed entrances upon Cora, almost had no reaction, but accepted her pronouncement as if it was just the most normal thing for us. One thing that really appealed to mother was that Cora stressed very emphatically, was that she would insist upon me retaining my virginity until such time she and I were wed. While I gasped in shock that the "W" word was even brought up, everyone else, including Cora, thought it was a forgone conclusion that I was promised and committed to her. A further shock to me was Cora revealing that I was already licking and sucking her pretty pussy after her dates. I turned beet red and wanted to be swallowed up by the floor. To my utter surprise, mother was very contented, and even pleased that I was performing oral sex on Cora. It seemed that she was more concerned about me retaining my virginity and praised Cora for her ingenuity getting other men to satisfy her lusty desires, while at the same time sharing her joy with me in such a delightful manner. I found it hard to believe that those words came from my mother's mouth. And the more Cora went on about her very active sexual life and why it was necessary for things to be this way with us, before I knew it, I found myself accepting her rationale as to why it was not only necessary that I be a devoted second fiddle in our budding, but young relationship. Again, I suspected it was Cora and her mind control powers. While I was awed that such a beautiful creature desired to have me as her husband, events had unfolded and evolved so quickly, and in such an unusual manner, I was overwhelmed by it all. I guess the anxiousness and uncertainty that I harbored was because it seemed that I had no control of events affecting me. "Oh Cecil, you just don't know how long I've longed and searched for such a sweet boy like you. And then to find you're a mama's boy that has been raised as a certified virgin so you could marry that way is so incredible. I can't but help falling in love with you. I must have you as my husband." After that first meeting with my folks, our household and my family, has never been the same. The very next day, Cora had her dad come by to meet with me and mother and dad. Mr. J****** was a tall and imperious figure. For some reason, he immediately intimidated me and dad by his very presence, while it was immediately obvious that mother was bowled over by his charm and handsome muscular appearance. It was really at this meeting that Cora's dad took over more control of my family and me. For it was his directive that I move into his house immediately for training by his wife, -Cora's mom- to be tutored to be the type of good husband his daughter would need in a future spouse. It was the strangest thing, mom and dad, as well as I took this news as if it was the most natural of things to occur. Yet something in me, had a twinge of concern and puzzlement, but yet the other 99% of me, seemed to think this was not only natural, but an honor. Cora's dad also drove home the point that Cora had previously announced to mom and dad. "As he has already knows, Cecil will have to accept that he'll be my daughter's pussy sucker after she's fucked by her other real men." He stated in an authoritative tone. Cora then interjected. "I've told him the same thing daddy. I've boasted to his mom how well he's performed for a relative beginner. It's obvious he's comfortable tasting and consuming my men's spend, for he eagerly laps and sucks me out now each time I asked him to suck my used cunt clean of their heavy leavings." Again, I was too mentally flustered to say a word. I could only sit and smile nervously with an extreme flushed red face. My mind was recalling what had happened just a day ago when Cora returned from a date and came before me holding up the hem of her very short, and revealing, mini dress. She had no panties on. Her swollen pussy lips were not only gapping and messy and nasty looking, but still oozing a very thick unctuous goo, which I knew had to be remnants of the fuck deposits deeply ejaculated in her. On the inside of both her shapely alabaster thighs, there were dried drip trails where the fuck muck ooze drain from her apparently overflowing well fucked fuzzy cunt. But alas, despite what a normal man would see as a revolting nauseating image, I couldn't help becoming aroused and lapping and slurping the interior of each leg, from her ankles to her hairy crotch, before settling in and nosily using my mouth to vacuum suction her soft hot, pussy flesh and stretched fuck hole. Whatever powers Cora used on me, I now found myself unable to refuse the delicious, scrumptious taste of her when she was all used and reeking of some man's, or I should say, men's horny dicks. For as when I'm consuming the fuck glop from her, she loves to brag about the guy or guys who deep drilled her with their horny hard meaty tools. That was the case last evening. She gloated over how good it was to have been fucked bareback by 4 "real men". CHAPTER 2: A WONDERFUL OFFER TOO GOOD TO REFUSE "Oh son, your mother I and couldn't refuse such a wonderful offer by Cora's dad. Signing our house and all our money and assets over to him in exchange for him becoming our life manger, and us having the opportunity to be in total servitude to him. I-It w-was just too good an offer not to take advantage of." My dad said excitedly. "Yes Cecil, it is especially delightful for me to finally be under the control of a real man. His being so imperious and commanding as well as seducing me right in your father's presence and making me his whore, was such a fantastic experience. I just knew I couldn't be satisfied going back to my old life. I gladly committed to becoming his submissive slut and would gladly whore for his profit. And I'm so excited that Mr. Jackson got your dad to fully accept what a wimp he is and that he also needed to be under the complete authority of a real man. Right, honey?" Mother said looking at dad lovingly. "Yes dear, you're so right. Yes Cecil, as he and I talked the first time he came over, he made me feel so comfortable admitting how inferior I was as a man and that I was better suited to be in the role of what I truly am, a pussy whipped wimp and pantywaist husband. A-And son, when he had me suck his fuck slime coated massive penis clean, t-that is after he finished fucking your mother, I-I couldn't believe how contented I felt doing that for him. And when he next directed me to suck his heavy ejaculate load from her overflowing gapping pussy, it felt so good to do that for him." My dad said with a very pleasant and broad smile on his face. And between the two of them, I learned of other "wonderful" things that Cora's dad had done for them while I was resident at Cora's folk's place for the last few weeks. That is, under Cora's parent's training regime in helping me to be the type of husband their daughter needed. Even though a significant part of my training involved performing household domestic chores, there was a lot of time devoted to my understanding the joys of submission, masochism, and the happiness that results from someone like me, being subjugated. I had a lot more practice in cock sucking too. I was also elucidated about my latent desires to suck cocks and being a "fuckable" sissy bitch to horny men. These latter skills were deemed necessary so that I could be a working participant in the family's brothel business. Cora's family wanted to be sure that I could properly provide for my future bride and future family. Cora's family felt strongly that it was very acceptable for me to become a sissy cock whore for my wife's profit. Little did I know that my mom and dad had undergone very similar training, and were already being pimped out by Cora's dad. Dad had also been broken into being a skilled cock sucker and having full passive intercourse with countless horny men. Needless to say, he's still a full fledge sissy cock whore too, and still whoring for Mr. J***** total profits. Cora's dad even collects any tips dad or mom get in addition to their basic whore's earnings. Another more sinister aspect of mine and dad's training was the indoctrination that it was arousing and deeply pleasurable to watch well hung men, fucking the women we loved, that is, mother and Cora, respectively. The sad thing is that the brainwashing was very successful, because not only did Dad and I get stiff pricks from observing fucking our women, but an even greater pleasure mouth cleaning up the slimy remnants of the sexual liaisons, to the point of often having uncontrolled ejaculations while doing so. CHAPTER 3: ON BECOMING A FAG COCK WHORE "Cecil, I think it's delightful that Cora's dad has plans to make you a sissy fag cock whore. He's so right, you'll be in a position to be a better provider and to give Cora the lifestyle that she is deserving of. Plus, I just know it'll mean so much to her to know that you love her so much that you'd willingly become a fag whore for her profit. Just knowing how you're letting yourself become a lowly street cocksucker and giving of yourself to make her happy, can only strengthen her love for you." "Y-Yes mother, s-she was e-elated t-to hear it too. B-But... w-well y-you know I-I've grown f-fond of s-sucking all those dicks t-that her dad had me going down on o-over the past few weeks. B-But s-sucking a-a lot of strange c-cocks f-for money.... T-There j-just seems to b-be something w-wrong about t-the w-whole..." "Sweetie, what can be wrong with demonstrating your love to the one you love and being a good provider at the same time? Don't worry, this is Phantomville, cuckold husbands do such wonderful things to express their devotion and love for their wives. Plus, you'll get a whole lot more of that hot tasty man cream you love to eat." Mother was correct about sissyhood and cuckold husbands being common in Phantomville. It was that I just never had plans to be in that lot. However, mother was right about my newly acquired taste for hot fresh jism, even though there was something in the back of my mind telling me how immoral whoredom is, but the thought of being fed large volumes of hot semen, as well as tasting much more hard dick meat, was oh so appealing. In addition, the very thought of doing such nasty acts as being on my knees and swallowing all those large slimy loads also seem to be more exciting and arousing to me the more demands that were made of me to suck hard throbbing dicks. And later when Cora's dad forced me into having passive intercourse with him and his horny buddies, just as with sucking cocks, I grew to being fond of being a wanton sissy ass-cunt too. As I shared these thoughts with mother, she hugged me warmly and tightly, all the while she assured me that I should not feel the least bit of guilt or shame just because I'll be looked upon as a cock and cum sucking sissy pervert, who willingly lets horny strange men fuck me in my sissy ass hole pussy. I had to confess to mother that it has become a pleasure to so wantonly desire the taste of used pussy, all fucked and filled by many, many hot gooey wads of fresh ejaculate. I could only smile as she repeated what I'd mentioned to her not long ago how pleasing was the lingering aftertaste of sucking dicks and swallowing countless hot slimy loads of semen. For some reason, mom and dad were too far under Cora's dad's control to even relate to what I was telling them about the three of us possibly being under mind control, despite that, we three had grown fond of being subjugated sexual slaves and in abject servitude to Cora and her family. "Son how could you possibly think what we're doing is degrading to us or that we're under some kind of mind control. It's so plain and obvious that it's good for us to serve Mr. J*****and you Cora. And having my genitals under his lock and key, and likewise yours under your wonderful fiance, is really more of a badge of courage that you and I wear to let others know we aren't afraid to show we aren't worthy of controlling our own sexual relief, but that it's best managed by those superior to us. And son, my being allowed to masturbate for relief whenever Cora's dad, or in your case, Cora, permits us, is something we should fully accept and be happy that we are allowed to please ourselves at those moments, as well as bring joy to them as they delight in seeing us beat our meat and eat up our jack off juice." "Your dad is so right Cecil, stop such silly talk, the Mr. J***** and his family are wonderful masters, and we three should be honored to serve them as they desire us to, and to eagerly let them use us they desire. Now c'mon, let's all hug and kiss and stop talk of such nonsense that we are being taken advantage of, or being humiliated." It was the strangest thing, but as we three did a 3 way tongue in mouth prolonged kiss, I also felt silly for thinking as I had, for there was a strange and cozy contentment being a part of this slavish circle. "And Cecil, another thing, those strappings and whippings we all occasionally get, while painful, and which leave us bruised and marked, it's obvious Mr. J****** as well as Cora and her mom, derive pleasure from beating us, as well as well as correcting our behavior if we've displeased them. Also, they may also be just to show us what we'll get if we do misbehave - you know, sort of preventive medicine. But you and I and your mother, know it's good for us to endure such treatment because they say it's good for us. And you know if it wasn't, they wouldn't say so." I could only look at my mom and dad and feel sorry for them not being as perceptive to our plight as I was. CHAPTER 4: CORA'S OFFICE HUSBANDS AND MY STATUS AS HER "EIGHTH HUSBAND" "Cecil honey, as you can see, my boss and the 6 guys in my office do have a valid point. They have known me longer than you. And even though, you're going to be my legal husband in a few months, they have been there for me, and me for them as... as well, sort of like their common law wife for a long time. Hence their rationale why it would be so natural for them to impregnate me with their children as their wedding gift to us. Plus honey, it would make me so happy to have their babies for our family." My fiance said to me in a very sincere tone and a matching expression on her pretty face. "W-What! C-Cora, I-I can't b-believe t-them even putting their lips together to say such a thing or-or you e-even giving a-any serious thought to their c-crazy idea. O-Oh Cora. I-I never thought I-I'd have a relationship w-with a girl as beautiful a-and as smart a-and capable as you are. I-I've come to understand why I-I should a-accept your needing to have sex outside o-our marriage a-and t-that it's appropriate f-for me to be a-a cuckold a-and orally clean your cunt a-and even y-your stud's cock a-after you t-two have intercourse, b-but t-the very t-thought o-of your o-office husband inseminating you with 7 different babies o-over 14 to 16 years, w-while I-I have to wait u-until y-you deliver all their kids t-to even have intercourse w-with you a-a-and to b-be c-content j-jerking off all that time, is-is j-just u-unbelievable." "Cecil, darling, look me in the eyes and tell me you aren't being selfish now are you?" "S-Selfish? O-Of course not. I-It's t-that t-this is s-so hard to believe t-this is happening to me. Y-You know I-I want you to be happy, b-but..." it was then that my thoughts seemed to literally freeze as I looked upon her beautiful face. I don't know what happened, but in a flash, I indeed felt awash with a deep sense of selfishness, the likes of which I'd never felt before. A moment later, I could scarcely believe my own words, but I was not only saying them, but actually meaning every word. "I-I-I'm s-sorry Cora. Y-Yes you're right, I-I guess I-I am being too s-self-centered about this. Y-You're right, y-your happiness is paramount, a-and if it m-means t-that much to you, I-I should n-not be a s-stumbling block." I heard myself utter those words. "Oh Cecil sweetie, I knew you'd see thorough your selfishness and do the right thing and agree to me making you a first class cuckold, and a daddy to other men's babies. This will mean so much to me having you working hard to provide and raise other men's children." Cora said to me as she warmly hugged and kissed me on the forehead. We two then had a long talk about the definition of "Love". "So you see Cecil, with love being the expression and demonstration of unselfish affection and devotion to the person you say you love, you should feel so much better now knowing that I am allowing you the chance to show me the highest level of unselfishness. That is, by gladly doing something no real man would agree to in order to please and make me happy." It was strange, but all she said to me was so clear and logical now. She went on to add, "Darling, the real men in my life, like my 7 work husbands, could never give up their manly dignity and self-esteem for my love, but I see in you, that you have the courage to do so." And for some reason hearing her say those words in such a noble tone, really made me feel gallant about her plan for me to be a first class cuckold and husband number 8. CHAPTER 5: AFTER MEETING CORA'S OFFICE HUSBANDS "Cecil, darling, I'm so proud of how well you carried yourself. The fellows are absolutely thrilled at you being my husband - well my eighth husband." Spoke Vera gleefully as we were driving away from her office. "Y-Yes t-they all seem okay. A-And just l-like your dad, t-they're all h-heavy cummers too." I replied sheepishly. "Yes they are. And it was so nice of you to suck their dicks when they asked you to. I really enjoyed watching you on your knees slurping and slobbering on their manly dicks. Sucking all their dicks and drinking down their cum really showed that you respected them for being Alpha males. And they really admire you too sweetie, for being so obedient. I'm so proud of you for being so sweet about all this." As a result of my oral performance to completion on her work husbands' large thick tools, Cora has me using my tongue and lips to clean their languished cocks, and big hairy balls, of fuck gunk after they fuck her. It's terrible to admit it, but I do get a strange pleasure from mouth cleansing their genitals, as well as Cora's cavernous cunt free of copious slimy fuck residue after their vigorous sex sessions. Again, I attribute my adoration of submissive depravity to my being brainwashed by Cora. Needless to say, no matter how hard I try, I can't refuse doing Cora's bidding. Despite the stress and duress it places on me, she often has me watch her and her work husbands, and other men too, have passionate intercourse. And when I say watch, on many occasions, it's right up under their coupled sex organs with me being required to lick her studs' shaft and flopping balls as they energetically fuck. I've lost count of the number of occasions I've been slapped silly in my face by her different studs' large, loosely hanging nut sacs. The splatter of fuck fluids on my upturned face is another hazard of the shameful position I was made to assume. But, giving credit where credit is due, Cora was right about it putting me in a good position to more effectively clean up the fuck drippings when her studs first pull out of her very juicy fuck slit. And I have to add, much of the initial cunt drainage was fresh, thick rich, and often lumpy, jism, which was not heavily diluted by pussy juice. This made for better tasting cunt drained spend. Never would I ever have dreamed I'd develop a craving for such nasty fuck slime. As I thought about what I just wrote, I couldn't help chiding myself on just how depraved I'd become to have been brainwashed such that I was now so discerning about the taste quality of fuck glop from a well fucked cunt. As you can imagine, it's rather tough on me to watch so many men enjoying her sex, which is denied to me for a lengthy waiting period of years, while I have to suffer in silence as I long and dream of putting my aching burning prick in her luscious wet arm juicy pussy slit. But on the bright side, she at least still lets me jack off every 2 or 3 weeks when she's in the mood to monitor my masturbation efforts. For some odd reason, she adores seeing me spurt my pent up stuff into an air pussy and have it splattered all over myself, as I moan and groan with ecstasy as I pump my prick to prolong the orgasmic pleasure and get out the last dregs of jism. Later in our relationship, she would require me to eat my own jacked off cum. After working hours, there were times that I had to carry my wife to rendezvous with her work husbands, if I didn't wait in the car, I had to wait outside the bedroom door while they fucked her. After their fuck liaisons, with a snide smile and condescending tone, her work husband would order me in to mouth clean their messy genitals of their slimy messy fuck muck. It was so embarrassing to have to kneel and lave and suckle each man's large languished penis meat, but yet my much smaller prick would be stretched to the breaking point and there was a warm delightful feeling that invaded my senses that let me know that such abject humiliation and degradation gave me quite an erotic high and filling of mental contentment. Many times, when sucking up the abundant spend from my Cora's very messy nasty looking oozing, reeking and well fucked cunt, the enjoyable feeling would cause me to involuntarily come in my shorts. It was these involuntary ejaculations that often caused me to get demerits from Cora, and her family too, which translated into lashes as punishment for not being able to control and contain my lust to release my cum just for her, that is, when she permits me to masturbate for her eyes only. CHAPTER 6: THE WEDDING: I have to be honest, I was not ready for marriage when Cora and I got hitched, but it happened whether I was ready or not, because Cora was ready. In addition, my marriage to her was not only the end of what little freedom I had as a bachelor under my mom's control, but also of my freedom as a Phantomville citizen. Let me explain. Phantomville has a special "Ownership" marriage license, which allows wives to marry and get Government condoned ownership of their cuckold husbands, as if they were chattel property. It's too agonizing to go into it here in this part of my memoirs, as to how I was "literally" given away at the altar by mother, to Cora and her family. I'll include a more detailed discussion in Part 2 of my memoirs. In this chapter, I thought I should concentrate on the wedding attire mother forcefully made me wear. "Cecil, my dear sissy son, I know you had your heart set on wearing a white tux for your wedding, even if you didn't agree with me planning to sissify it a bit - you, know trimming it in lavender scallop lace. But sweetie, we tired our best to agree on the right tux design for you, but me, Cora, and Cora's mom, all came to the same conclusion. That is, that a wedding gown was so much more appropriate for to wear. It will express and signify your virginity and soft pantywaist nature so delightfully." My mother's words hit me like a sack of rocks in the face. However, I know I could do nothing but comply with her and Cora, and Cora's mom when they insisted I go try on the very lacey and flouncy feminized male ( fem-male) wedding gown they had selected for me to wear at my wedding. In addition, the veil was so sheer and just as lacey, but was trimmed in lavender lace. To add to my embarrassment, the word "Virgin" was stitched in many places on the sheer, seemingly, ultra-white, waist length veil. Needless to say, I had no choice in the matter. I walked down the aisle, to the tune of the traditional wedding march, wearing the fairy fem-male wedding gown that was picked out for me. There was much snickering and loud chuckles of laughter as my mother escorted me down the aisle as if I was the new bride. My face was crimson red from my total and utter humiliation, but I had no control over my situation. I was simply doing as others, more superior to me, demanded of me. Cora, my bride-to-be, was already at the altar, dressed in a black and white tux type outfit that was designed to accommodate her being 5 months pregnant. In addition, her pretty pussy bush was totally exposed. I had been told earlier, that the design was to signify that our marriage was open for her, but closed for me, just as my genitals were also hers to control. My best men were Cora's seven work husbands, which she refers to now as my husbands-in-law. At the conclusion of the ceremony, the woman minister pronounced us married as "Mistress Wife and Servant Husband". Another aspect of my wedding that I once considered too embarrassing to even mention, had to do with the brilliant 5 carat wedding ring set that Cora wore. It was not the ring I selected, but rather one she and her family picked. To pay for the $25,000 set, I was required to perform over a thousand blow jobs, in just 4 months prior to the wedding date. My new bride-to-be desired that of me so that she could announce at the wedding that I loved her enough to give of myself in such a lowly, and highly demeaning lascivious manner. She really didn't have to add that I was a certified Phantomville fag whore or that I always swallowed all the thick slimy ejaculate spurted between my lips. I blushed a deep red at her revelation as I roasted and stewed with the additional utter humiliation dumped on me at the wedding altar. The vows were even more damming, as I had to swear complete loyalty, faithfulness, devotion and obedience to my Mistress Wife, while her only vow was her enforcing her total subjugation of me. The jewelry I wore was the traditional white pearl necklace and other pearl jewelry adornment typical of wedding attire for the bride. Even before the wedding, mother, and specifically after her brainwashing by Cora's family, urged me to wear pearl necklaces and matching earrings and bracelets often when turning tricks for the J****** family. Since white pearls are indicative of an expression of femininity, I looked upon my wearing such jewelry, as my indoctrination into fem-male-ism. Another more heinous brainwashing aspect was the drilling into dad and I that wearing trashy feminine attire and jewelry enhanced our self-confidence in performing sissy cock whore sex acts. It did seem to work, for both dad and I did feel greater self-assurance in being the fag tramps we were to the men who used us lustfully for their sexual relief and satiation. CHAPTER 7: OUR GROWING FAMILY I had made the fallacious assumption that the most number of gifts of kids from my new bride's work husbands would amount to was 7. Woe be unto me for not considering what a fertile womb Cora had, or the virility of her work husbands' seed. As an example, just from her first 3 pregnancies, she delivered 6 children. The first delivery was a boy, the second was triplet boys, and the third gave us a set of twin girls. So you see, I knew then that fate was against me. From the remaining 4 pregnancies, can you believe that Cora had a total of 6 additional children. Therefore after 16 years of marriage, I found myself having to raise and provide for a dozen kids, not one of which was biologically mine. And to make matters worse, during the next 4 years after our sixteenth wedding anniversary, Cora also delivered 3 additional babies from 3 old boyfriends that her mom was really fond of. More will be discussed about this situation in Part 2 of my marriage memoirs. It was a bit unexpected on my part, but each time my wife's pregnant tummy plumped up, and her milk laden tits inflated to gigantic proportions, her appearance had some sort of erotic hypnotic effect. I felt a strange sense of pride knowing that another man had inseminated her and proven his superior virility over me in a most indignant way. Yet, all I could do was passively accept my lowly subservient cuckold role. Cora required me to kiss her pregnant belly each and every morning. Her stare of condescension while wearing a snide grin, spoke volumes about my situation. Even this simple act of affection by me, and being met with her disdainful look, aroused me tremendously, many times to the point of involuntary ejaculation. This further drove home the point to me just how masochistic I've become in finding pleasurable feelings from routine dismal humiliation and degradation. Another instance of where my self-esteem was horrendously trampled over by my wife, had to do with her concerns that her work husbands, as well as her other real men, be sexually satisfied while she was unavailable during her pregnancies. "C'mon Cecil darling, don't be that way. Other horny guys fuck your sissy pussy. Why don't you want to let my work hubbies and men friends have a piece of your ass when they need a fuck?" "C-Cora ... I-It's t-the principle of it a-all." I-I stammered nervously in reply to my wife. "Look honey, you're a fag whore, so it really shouldn't matter. Plus, when I'm late in term with the babies, it would only be right that you be a substitute for me when they need to get off. After all, you are my husband and we are in this together, remember?" After a few more minutes of this exchange between me and my wife to be, I actually began to see Cora's point and concluded it was a losing battle and that my concerns for principles and self-esteem, was a losing battle, and really non-existent. I caved in and agreed to let her work husbands, my husbands-in-laws, and her other studs, fuck my face or ass, as they preferred. At least, if nothing else, my concession kept me in good graces with my future bride and her various men EPILOGUE: PART 1 So as the reader can discern from all the information I've presented in Part 1, I am totally put upon in this marriage, and horrendously taken advantage of, yet can't find the will to object or refuse the dismal mistreatment continuously imposed on me. All I can do, it seems, is accept my station and delight in the wretchedness imposed on me. I feel I am enjoying what's happening to me, but I don't know of any reason why I am so gleeful for my own degradation and humiliation. Yet I hate to say it, I have come to fully enjoy my plight, despite feeling recurring twinges of severe humiliation and utter embarrassment over the 20 some years of my relationship with Cora. As I promised, the foregoing is basically a summary of my engagement and 20 year marriage to the present. Having to raise and care for 15 kids that so many know were sired by the many men from my wife's numerous affairs and illicit liaisons, is indeed stressful for me. But as it is when you are repeatedly subjected to so much loss of esteem and manly dignity, as I have been, one becomes desensitized, and resigned to the dreary fate being imposed. At any rate, I can't hold the kids responsible, so I'm a doting cuckold daddy to all "our" children. Yet strangely, despite the countless acts of sexual degradation I've been mentally persuaded to perform, or the countless horrendous acts of humiliations I've had to endure and accept as if it was natural and normal, throughout my marriage, I couldn't feel happier being the obedient, subjugated, and enslaved husband I am to the woman, I can't help loving. ***END OF PART 1***

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c March 7, 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(M+/F, MF, FemDom, Impreg) WARNING: DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Story Title: Runt Of The Litter Author: C.D.E. CAST: Husband-Harold Robinson Wife-Helen Robinson Harold's Mother-Ma Harold's Father-Pa Neighbors of Harold and Helen Robinson thought of them as a wonderful couple. They had four young children, who all had the strong Robinson facial resemblance. They were considered an ideal family. CHAPTER 1: THE BEGINNING Harold was so proud of all he'd accomplished in the last five years. He'd gotten his Ph.D., a good paying job, managed to distance himself from his hick farm family, and found the girl of his dream, Helen. He intentionally didn't tell his family he'd gotten married until after the wedding. He simply didn't want them to show up. He and Helen had a June wedding and went on a honeymoon cruise. Harold didn't let his family know about his marriage until late July. "Harold, you little rascal. So you think you're man enough to get married and not tell us. Well now that you've done it, when are you planning to start your family?" His mother's voice roared out of the phone receiver as she spoke. "Not until next year about this time. Helen is still working on her masters degree and another full year, including a summer session next year, should enable her to finish it up almost exactly a year from now." "Okay son, I'm sorry you didn't see fit to invite us, your kin, to your hitching ceremony, but you be sure and let me know when y'all plan to start breeding. I'm obliged to pass on the family secret that us Robinsons do the best breeding in the fall, around hog killing time. So keep that in mind when you mount your new bride to make me a grand yungun." Harold cringed at what his mother was saying as well as the way she said it. She next wanted to speak to his wife Helen. He passed the phone to his new bride and stood by as they talked. His mind wandered back to the family house and how he yearned to get away from that farm, his family and their rural lifestyle, which was bound in superstition and folklore. Harold mentally patted himself on the back for his good fortune of getting a college scholarship and being able to live away from home enough to rid himself of the Hill Billy accent he once had. He was the smallest of the eight sons his mother had. He was a bantam weight in the truest sense of the word, even smaller than his four sisters, all who could and did beat and whip him occasionally as they grew up. His brothers were also not to kind to him either, primarily because his mother use to protect him from the harder farm work that the others did and were better built to do. She called him her runt of the litter. In fact he hated his nick name "Runt" given him by his family. "Your mom is quite interesting and quaint." Helen said to Harold as she hung up from her conversation with her mother-in-law. She doesn't sound near as bad you claimed. I really must meet your family." I hope you don't have to." Harold replied in a soft but slightly sarcastic manner. "I don't believe you sometimes Harold. Well anyway, your mom was insistent that we not start having children until she comes up and tells us the Robinson Family tips to good breeding." Helen chuckled as she spoke. "Yes, she said the same to me. I'd never heard of any such secrets the whole time I grew up in those back woods. However, most of us kids were born in the Summer, so I guess mother had to be inseminated in the Fall." "Well any way darling, she made me promise that we wouldn't start without her coming up and talk to us first. She seemed pretty serious about this because she said to make sure I call her as soon as I stop taking the pill so she can get an idea of when to plan her visit. She wants it to be when I'm close to being most ready to getting pregnant." Helen said with her hand on her chin. "Well that's one promise I don't want you to keep. In fact if anything, I'd like to have you all nice and preggy well before we see mom or dad, if he's coming. I really don't want either of them coming here. We can go see them." Harold replied. "I think you mean that." "I do Helen. You just don't know how much I've tried to distance myself from my family. They were always making fun of me when I was growing up." "Well Harold honey, you must not get stuck in the past. You're an adult now. Anyway, I did promise your mom, I'd let her know and I always keep my promises. Besides, I don't intend to get on the bad side of my mother-in-law, who I haven't even met yet." CHAPTER 2: A YEAR LATER Harold had forgotten all about the promise his lovely wife had made to his mother over a year ago. He'd been concentrating on his new research project at work and the only thing else that perturbed him was the marital relations between he and Helen. They both were virgins before marriage and she refused to let Harold have sex with her prior to the wedding. They only petted. When she and Harold did consummate their marriage sexually on the honeymoon cruise, he knew Helen was disappointed at the size of his penis and his sexual stamina. She'd only snuck peeks at her two brother's genitals and was under the misleading assumptions all men had similar size equipment and could last as long as she'd heard from her older brother's wife, her sister-in-law. When Harold didn't meet her expectations, she soon got over her disappointment when Harold saved the day by muff diving her to as many orgasm as his tongue could do before getting tired. His pussy sucking often had to be done after he tried to give her pleasure with his Four-and-a-half inch prick. Hence, he often had to taste and consume his own ejaculate as he sought to please his beautiful bride. To avoid tasting his own jism, he changed around such that he'd begin sucking her shapely snatch first, get her off at least two times and then mount her. It didn't seem to matter, for that seemed to make her need to get off even more. Therefore he found himself having to tongue her to satisfaction and still have his face in the spermy mess of his own doing. He was keeping her satisfied as best he could, even though he knew she really wanted him to become a better cocksman. She let him know in a light hearted way, getting off with a cock was different than by a tongue. "The few times you've done it darling makes your tongue action feel even better. I guess what I'm trying to say is that a good cock fucking orgasm, is analogous to baking the cake, and a good after fuck suck, really puts the icing on it. That is, your lapping, and sucking makes what's already been built on better." Harold noticed that his wife's selection of words were changing over the year they'd been married. When questioned about it, she just mentioned that she'd known them all along, but the girls at work used them so frequently, she too found herself using them more frequently. Helen and Harold went to sexual therapy to see if his performance could be improved. It was, but it was far less than Helen found herself desiring of him. However, she did love everything about him and decided that it was not worth breaking up a marriage over. After all, she thought, she'd heard of too many real cocksmen that were only good just for sex and not much else including faithfulness. She knew she could count Harold to be devoted and loyal to her. She knew he loved her very much. She resigned herself to her loving devoted Harold and the future of him getting her pregnant. She'd completed her degree requirements and knew that it was time to start working on her motherhood degree, as she mentally chuckled at her pun. As she did so, she thought about the promise she'd made to her mom-in-law. She knew her husband was against them coming up, but she thought it was time for him to get over being embarrassed at his family. Without consulting him, she called his mom. They had a good long talk and the date was set for them to arrive. Helen had gotten her pre-pregnancy physical and had stopped taking her pill just two days ago. Her OBGY had estimated that the residual effects of the birth control should subside in about 5-6 weeks. Harold's mom was scheduled to arrive in about four weeks and wanted to spend about four weeks with her and Harold. Again Helen committed them doing so without Harold's knowledge. She figured it couldn't do that much damage. CHAPTER 3: THE FAMILY ARRIVES "Helen, one of the first things to successful breeding is good stock. Now I brought along Jed, Harold's older brother who has sired several yunguns and has proven himself. Show her yo quipment." Her mom-in-law shouted to her son. Helen, totally embarrassed at what Harold's mom was suggesting as well as Jed exposing himself without question. She tried not to look at his exposed genitals, but something in her not only made her look back, but soon she was staring at the marvelous well formed manhood that hung between his muscular legs. His penis was at least eight inches long and with a sizeable girth. Very much a better specimen than her poor husband, Jed's brother. All my boys got good baby making tools cept Harold. That's why I wanted to talk to y'all so you'd have a good breeding. With Jed helping Harold out, you'd be mated and mounted properly, which I suspect you ain't had since you been hitched." Helen felt weak in the knees. Harold's mother's idea was certainly logical, and she was right about her son. He really hadn't "mounted her properly" since they were married. She knew she shouldn't even be thinking that it was all right to get pregnant from her husband's brother, but the more she thought about it, the less resistant she became to the idea, especially as she had her eyes locked on the sizeable manhood before her and her mind running overspeed trying to imagine what it feel like to be filled, stretched, fucked and flooded by it. CHAPTER 4: HAROLD FINDS OUT Later that evening, when Helen revealed to Harold about the affair with his brother and him how she'd weakened and submitted to temptation and done as his mom had wanted, Harold went ballistic. "Helen! H-How could you do this to me?" "I know it was wrong darling. But at the time it seemed oh so right. And with your mother there encouraging me, I gave in. And Harold, you know what?" "What?" "The more I think about it, the less I see wrong with what happened." "What?" "Your brother gave me a moment of ecstasy I've never had before and which you're unable to do for me. So what really happened is that he's just giving you some brotherly assistance, nothing more. It's not like he's some stranger I picked up to do me." Helen spoke confidently. Harold, rather than try to confront her logic was too emotional to deal with the facts, instead he just wanted to lash out against what his he saw an intrusion by his family. His mother knew her son would be upset, but she was prepared for that eventuality. "Mother! I-I can't believe you caused this too happen." Harold said to his mother in an irate tone of voice. "And Jed! You're my brother! H-How could you do this to me!" "It was easy, especially with your wife being so pretty." Harold's brother replied, who was also sitting nearby. "Harold dear, I understand you're upset. And yes, I started all this. Lets go out on the patio and talk. The fresh air will do you good. Your face is flush." The two went out and only after a few moments of discussion, her son's mood radically changed as he became more subdued and less belligerent in his manner and tone of voice. "M-Mother... H-How d-did you find out..." "I had a little money from a few years ago when the soybean prices went right through the roof. I'd been wanting to know how you were doing away in school. So I got me a private detective to find out. That's when he learned that you were sharing an apartment with this homosexual fellow who dressed like a woman. Now he didn't know if you were gay or not, but he found out there were rumors that this here he-she, I believe Rose Marie is the name, sucked you off when you needed it. I must admit, this picture of the fellow does look nice for a fake woman. Did you take him to bed?" "I-It was not what it seems." Replied Harold in a shaky voice. He went on to explain to his mom how he was desperate for a cheap place to stay and how Robert Nelson, a.k.a., Rose Marie, gave him a break on the rent. The only stipulation was that Harold would let him suck his cock a few times a month. "I-I was desperate for a place mother... a-and it seemed l-like a good arrangement at the time. Beside, I'd known him before I discovered he liked dressing as transvestite, that is in women's clothes. It wasn't like he was a total stranger. Besides, he only had the urge to do me when he was dressed up. He would always tell me it was no fun dressing up if he didn't get a little cock from a man once in a while. He said it heightened the feminine experience to serve a man while dressed in drag, that is in women's clothes." Harold and his mom continued to talk about his past. She let him know that it would be there secret, but that she would not only tell his wife and the other family members, but the company he worked for, if he went against her plans to help him. "Y-You w-wouldn't..." Her son stammered in disbelief at what he was hearing. His mother assured her son she'd do whatever it took to ensure she had healthy grandkids and to help him keep his wife happy and marriage together. Harold was devastated at his mom's determination to subjugate him to her will. They next moved to his mother's idea of his brothers being a surrogate father for he and Helen's kids. "With you being the runt of my litter, I didn't know if you were gay or not and I shore didn't want my grand yunguns to come up that way. I told yo Paw what I was up to and he fully approved. He's the only other one that knows about what the detective found out. He also said you were a mama's boy. You know how he is. And you really are, that's why I had to do what I could to help you get your family off to a good start. But now, I suspect that since yo wife done sampled Jed's cock, she ain't gonna be totally satisfied with just your little thing, no more. Now here's my plan to save your marriage and keep this beautiful girl your wife." Harold sat down in the lawn chair and almost felt like crying as his mom laid out her scheme to ensure that his wife Helen was bred properly. He'd been concerned about his wife finding another man to give her what he couldn't. That is, using her analogy, to bake the cake the way she wanted it, so to speak. But based on what he'd heard from his wife and now from his mother, he knew his mom was probably right, he didn't think he could come close to competing with his brothers or the other Robinson men in the manhood department. Harold knew that his only hope to keeping his wife, if it wasn't too late, was to do as his mother was proposing, even if for the wrong reason his mom was talking about. That is, that breeding requires good breeding stock. The implication being that he, her son, was not good breeding stock. He truly hated it, but he had to give his mother credit for her scheme. It would raise no outside suspicion and not jeopardize either his wife's or his careers and they would have the family they wanted. Children that would all look like Robinsons. CHAPTER 5: IMPLEMENTING MOTHER'S PLAN "Helen, I-I, well, after talking with mom, have reconsidered what she is proposing, a-and have agreed to s-support her plan. T-That is if y-you're willing to go along w-with it." Harold said stammering as he hung his head as he spoke to his wife. His brother and mother were both present. "Harold darling, you're so wonderful and understanding. Yes darling I accept. I'll gladly let all the Robinson men help us by breeding me to ensure we have healthy strong babies." His wife's words were like burning embers in his shorts, but all Harold could do was accept the situation he found himself in. He mentally cursed his association with the TV Rose Marie, a.k.a., Robert Nelson. Minutes later after kissing her husband on the cheek, she led his brother Jed back to the bedroom for some more of what he'd given her earlier. "She's taken to it like a fish to water." Harold's mom commented. The lusty look on Helen's face was evident to everyone in the room, much to Harold's chagrin and embarrassment. "M-Mother, surely, I-I will at least h-have a c-chance to help make her pregnant too, w-won't I?" Harold softly asked of his mother who was definitely now the power broker in his marriage and his bedroom. "Son, just as I told your wife, and just like on the farm, we only breed good stock. I know it hurts, but no, as the runt of my litter, I don't think it's a good idea for you to be the real daddy of any of your yunguns." His mother's words caused Harold the greatest hurt and shame all at the same moment. His tears came easily now as he got up and walked away. Harold's mom stayed with Harold and Helen for over a month. Jed only stayed a week and then left, but he was replaced by another of Harold's brothers - Johnny. This arrangement where another brother and also any uncles or cousins would spend a week with Harold and his wife, especially in bed with his wife, went on until Helen proudly announced that she was pregnant. During this time, Harold was relegated to using condoms, when he was able to have intercourse at all, with his wife, who now basked in all the dreamy sex she was getting from the other Robinson men. She confided to her husband that his in-laws were great cocksmen and made getting inseminated all that much more fun. Other times when not able to have intercourse with his wife, who was busy opening her legs for other members of his family, Harold simply had to jack off. To his further humiliation, his mother would not hesitate to ask him at the breakfast table if he had done so from time to time. "Harold honey, I know you're a little downtrodden about how things are going, but if you look at it from the way your mom is, we're giving our kids a good start and precluding the possibility you might have some malady in your genes that might cause them a health problem. You know because of her saying you were the... well I won't say it, but you know what I mean." Helen said to her dejected browbeaten husband. "I-I understand Helen. I've been called Runt in the last few weeks more times that in the last eight years." Harold sighed as he looked at his lovely wife and held her soft hand. He let her know that he could detect that she now had a rosier glow each day, which he attributed to all the good sexing she was getting from his kin. CHAPTER 6: THE ROOT CELLAR "Harold, give me and Pa a tour of your fancy root cellar." "Mother, It's a wine cellar, not a root cellar. Sure I'll show you." Harold replied in a not so cheerful mood after coming home from a grueling day at the office. "This is a nice cellar." Harold's father said. "Yeah, the previous owner really had a fall out shelter here below the basement. I had new stairs put in and the roof and the walls shored up and sealed. It's dry and cool." Harold commented to his father. "It's quiet too. Why I bet you can hardly be heard upstairs if you shouted, especially when this heavy door is closed." Harold's dad said as he pointed to the heavy door that the previous owner had installed. "Harold, we really wanted to talk to you, that's why we asked you to bring us down here. You see son, we don't like your attitude. You seem sour about the good deed we're doing for you." His mother said. "Yeah son. We just wanted to make sure your wife gets a proper mating from the best Robinson stock." Harold's father added. "H-How can I be happy about all of this. Y-You two are blackmailing me a-and to m-make matters worse, y-you've turned my wife against me. S-She thinks what you two are saying is alright. I-I know she likes their b-bigger cocks b-but..." "No buts son, this is for your own good and the good of the kids we're making sure you two have." His mother said cutting him off. "Your mother's right son, your attitude stinks, plus, it sounds like to me you're ungrateful for all the trouble we done went through to help you and your marriage." "That's right baby, Helen also tells us you've been less affectionate and don't seem to wantta suck her pussy like you been doing before. She'd like you to do it after your brother mates her, just the same way you did after you shoot your stuff in her. It makes her feel good to be sucked out when she'd sloppy. You've sucked your own cum out of your wife's pussy, what's wrong with sucking your kin's cum out?. What's fair is fair." Harold was caught off guard by his mother's statement. He couldn't believe his ears. He was speechless. "S-She told y-you that?" "Yes she did. My daughter-in-law and I have grown quite close since we've been spending more time together the last week or so. She says you're really a good pussy eater. I'm proud of you son. That is, that you've found a way to please a woman, even though you don't have the sturdy tools like your brothers and the other Robinson men." His mom replied with a subtle sense of motherly pride as she smiled while looking at her shamed face son. "You know Ma, I ain't never had no urge to suck your pussy." Harold's father interjected. "That's because you're a full man. I don't expect you to, especially after you done made my thing messy. But our Harold ain't that way. Nature made him that way to make up for what he ain't got. Sucking pussy is alright for him." Harold felt like a ton of humiliation had been dumped on him, even though done with parental sympathy. He felt two inches high. Harold, upset that his wife had revealed what he considered an intimate aspect of their marriage, replied angrily to his parents. "First, Helen shouldn't have told you all about what we do in the bedroom. Secondly, it's bad enough I've gotten blackmailed into going along with your plan mother. There's no way I'm going to be clean up man for all the mess the other Robinson men make." "Ma, it sorts of sounds like to me that he's not only got a bad attitude, but a little sassy too." "You know Pa, I was thinking the same thing, and you know what the best cure for a sassy yungun is?" "Yep, sure do. And I think Harold here maybe needs some of that to clear his mind and appreciate all his folks have done out of the goodness of our heart." "Well son, that does it. We done determined you need a little attending too. Pull your pants down. This here fancy root cellar is just as good as the wood shed. It'll keep the noise down. Pa close that door and lock it." "Pull my pants down, w-what do you mean? Father, uh, W-What are you closing the door for?" Harold snapped his head back toward his Mom who'd walked over to him with a roll of duct tape in one hand and her old fashioned, thick handle hairbrush in the other. CHAPTER 7: FEELING UN-SASSY Harold stood in a corner of the totally dark wine cellar. His hands and ankles were still secure with layers of duct tape, wrapped on by his father. Harold's naked rear was a massive ache and well bruised from the prolonged spanking his mother had given him. Her demanding that he stand in the corner to reflect on why he was punished was the biggest insult to Dr. Harold Robinson Ph.D., yet he was helpless to do otherwise. His mom had been unmerciful until she got him to promise and swear that he'd make no difference in the cum in his lovely wife's cunt, that is whether it was his or the other Robinson men, when he sucked her pussy. His ass cheeks were still aflame as he sought to relieve his discomfort by wiggling and shaking as he stood in the corner. His mother has also put a blindfold over his eyes and stuffed his ears. The purpose, so he'd not hear her coming back to check on him. The reason, as part of his punishment, he was to recite and count a thousands times, the phrase "I will always suck the cum from my wife's pussy after other men have fucked her." Needless to say, Harold was completely humiliated at having to be treated as child, but he knew his options were limited to almost nothing. The other thing that Harold lamented was his mother letting him know that his sisters would be coming by to check on him from time to time, when she couldn't, and she'd authorized them to punish him also if they felt like he was not being a good cooperative husband, or daddy to the kids, whenever they came along. Harold knew he was in a vise and that, cooperation and capitulation, to the family plan being imposed on him was really his only way out. CHAPTER 8: A TENDER MOMENT "Honey that was nice of you and your mom to agree that your father could help out too. He's so nice." "W-What are you talking about Helen?" "You know, him sexing me last night while you and your mom were in the wine cellar. He said you two thought it was a good idea for him to come fuck me too, especially your mom, since it would take the edge off his randiness and she wouldn't have to work so hard to please him later when they went to bed. You really do have wonderful parents. I don't care what you say about them Harold." Harold again outmaneuvered, looked bewildered and could only shake his head at his wife's revelation that his own father had fucked her too. To make matters worse, since he had to suck his wife's messy slimy sloppy twat before he could get some, that meant he'd also eaten his father's spent semen too. After the incident of the severe paddling his mom gave him, Harold was nevertheless pleased to be in more frequent intimate contact with his wife's sex, even if it only meant eating her out more often, and even it he'd been literally beaten into doing so. The routine was pretty much set. After bringing her to bed shaking orgasms with his tongue and in the process, clean up her sloppy jism saturated cunt, his wife would carefully watch him put on a condom and ensured that it was still on as he, her husband, sexed her for up to four minutes, which was about the maximum he could hold out before coming. Again Harold felt so un-respected by his wife as she insured that he didn't have an opportunity to share in the baby making that other members of his family would be contributing to. His wife wasn't that responsive as he worked toward his sexual relief, and basically laid there unmoving as Harold stroked himself in her. In fact Harold could tell that his wife's cunt hole had been even more stretched in such a short period of time, that he was sure that if it hadn't been, he wouldn't have lasted as long as he did. It also didn't help matters that she told him that she could hardly feel him as he labored to sex her after his brothers', and occasionally his father, much more stout and robust cocks had paved the way before him. CHAPTER 9: ICING ON THE CAKE "Honey, you've added to my glow too. You know, buy putting the icing on the cake. Remember what I said about how you sucking my pussy adds another dimension to the good feeling I get from sex?" Her husband remembered well what she was talking about. He hated to be reminded that all he was good for now was lapping her bruised well fucked cunt lips and sucking out the fuck juices made and left their by better men, his father, brothers and uncles. Doing pussy clean up provided Harold an opportunity to at least have more opportunity to be near his wife intimately than the few times he was able to have normal intercourse with her, which was rather infrequent, maybe once every two weeks. But by doing clean up, her luscious pussy was available for his tongue almost daily, as his mother and the other Robinson men liked the idea of him keeping his wife's cunt freshened up between each time they shot their huge wads of jism and flooded Helen's cunt. Each large load they shot off made a mess. Harold's mouth was useful and it also added to his wife's pleasure at the same time. Once when they were alone, Harold's wife made a revelation him. "Harold honey, you're an incredible husband. I adore you so much for giving me a fantasy some women only dream of." "What are you talking about Helen?" "You know, about me being basically a slut, but all under the safety and respect of your family. I know at first you were not into what your family proposed, but I've really been impressed by your going along with them breeding me in order to ensure we have healthy little Robinsons, and to compensate for your shortcomings. Thank you darling." Harold, again hurt by well meaning words for the countless time, and hurt very much by this whole scene and situation he found imposed on him, knew that it was no use to complaining anymore. His philosophy now, accept what you can't change, or as he mentally thought, `If you can't beat `em, you might as well join `em'. "Helen, as you said, I was against this whole arrangement, but I have to admit, and I really I very much hate to admit, that it has b- been good for you... a-and I know your sexual well being is important. You know I truly love you." "I know you do darling. And I realize you've had to put your pride on the shelf, but that really shows what a good man you are." "Thanks Helen, t-that means a lot to me." "You will always be my prince charming, even though I want and need you sucking my pussy after your father, brothers, uncles and cousins fuck me. You will still be the man I adore, no matter that you'll have to use rubbers while the other Robinson men will have my pussy unencumbered, hot and wet, skin to skin, while they breed me." "P-Please Helen, p-please don't say anymore. I-I get the picture." "Oh I'm sorry honey, I didn't mean to come across rudely. Please forgive me." His wife rolled over toward him as they lay in bed. She kissed and hugged her downtrodden husband. "Sweetie, you know I don't mean too hurt you, no matter how the words come out. Just remember I love you." Harold, knew that he couldn't get angry at his wife, even for the stale semen flavored kiss from sucking his own father's cock. EPILOGUE: Robinson men folks are always stopping over at Harold's house, as many are truck drivers, eleven in fact, including several cousins and uncles. They all made it a point to stop over and service Helen while Harold baby-sit the kids of their growing family. Helen, however, always insisted that her husband come in and put the "icing" on the cake that the other Robinson men baked. He continues to be humiliated at doing so, especially in the presence of his kin, but he did what he promised his mother as well to do what he could to please the woman he loved. He always does a quality job of orally cleaning up the slimy mess that is constantly being made In her well fucked cunt. He indeed swallows a lot of thick frothy fuck cream from his wife's well stretched gash. Several times, Helen went away on trips with her in-laws and left Harold at home to take care of their growing brood, now numbering four. Harold was trying to dissuade his wife from having another baby, but she seemed keen on the possibility of one or two more. Whenever she was away, he was often under the watchful eye of his sisters, mother, or some other demanding Robinson woman who came to oversee him. They kept a keen eye out to ensure he was a faithful, devoted daddy and took care of the kids. If they felt he wasn't being a good parent, out came the hairbrush and Harold's rear would show their displeasure. Also, during these time when his wife was away being sexed by better Robinson men, Harold was only allowed supervised masturbation. The only other real sex he got was when his matronly overseers demanded he sucked their twats, which was often. This was also his wife's only approved way for him to have sex when she was away being fucked by other Robinson men. One time she was gone for four weeks and came home pregnant with their third child. Harold resigned himself to the fact that his role as head of the family was strictly a figurehead one, which his wife quickly reminded him of when it seemed he forget. She also was quick to remind him that his in-laws, the sires of their children had a big say so in whether or not she was to get pregnant again. At the Robinson family reunions, which Harold hates going to, his wife gets a terrific sexing at these occasions, gang bang style. Harold has to be content with sucking many, many loads of fresh Robinson dick cream from her more than well used snatch. Harold, literally stands by while the other Robinson men use her to their hearts content. His wife loves theses events. Also, during the reunions, Harold is made to wear a frilly pinafore apron and work in food preparation, the same as the women, which further diminishes his stature as a man in the Robinson clan/family. The Robinson women, feeling pity for his wife, encourage their well endowed husbands to help Harold out, that is by urging them to fuck his wife. While at the reunions, Harold is forced to put his tongue to good use lapping up many Robinson women's sperm saturated pussies, other than his wife's. The other Robinson women adore him for orally servicing their well fucked hairy muffs. Harold, despite all he's been through, and knows he will continue to experience and be humiliated by, knows that his wife really cares for him. However, he's discovered that she enjoys the sexual power she holds over him. He knows his place now, and his wife, mother, and the family constantly remind him of it. ###END### Like these type fictional stories? Send comments or future story ideas to CDE at [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright January 2009 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form or sold for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(Cuck, M+/F, MM, Impreg, FemDom, MDom) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Title: Dear Mother Debbie 2009:CASE#1: The Case Of Tom and Tina Author: C.D.E. Dear Mother Debbie, First of all, thank you for inviting me to be a part of your new project where you'll look in depth at select marriages. I won't claim to be a good writer, but I'll try to lay out the events that transformed me and my marriage into a cuckold lifestyle. In addition, I hope my story will illustrate that this is probably the best lifestyle for me and my lovely wife, and serve as a guide for other guys like me who are going through, or have gone through, similar experiences. MY STORY BEGINS My name is Tom and my wife's name is Tina. We have been married over 14 years. The entire time Tina and I dated, as well as when we were engaged, and all through our marriage up to the present day, she has been sexually unfaithful to me. She said she loved me dearly, but she had a problem being physically faithful to me. She steadfastly claimed that she was emotionally faithful to me and that her heart is truly mine, despite that she wantonly gave her pussy to many men. Until our wedding night, she never let me put my cock in her, despite that she was putting out to many others almost for just them asking for some. She also denied me from touching her tits too. This treat was also to be saved for our wedding night. During the whole of our engagement, She only let me lick and suck her luscious pussy, and insisted that I masturbate under her observation for my sexual relief. It wasn't for about 4 months after we were engaged, that I discovered what kind of girl Tina really was, including that she was feeding me her men's sperm from her pretty cunt. I of course became despondent and really depressed. She swore she still loved me, and didn't mean to humiliate or belittle me, but that she still expected me to accept her on her terms and conditions. She showed me videos and pictures of many sexual encounters and events she had been involved with other men - and groups of horny men also. "Tom, I don't mean to hurt your ego, but you're simply not man enough by yourself, or have what it takes to keep me satisfied. Therefore, I want you be satisfied with accepting that I'll be dating and sleeping with other men, even though you're my fiance. And Tom, I expect you to remain loyal, faithful and loving to me as well as continue to suck my wet used pussy when I want you to. You're such a good cunt sucker, I can't do without the exhilarating feeling you give me as you suck out my cum filled pussy." Those were her words to me. Even though they were harsh, I still felt a lot of affection and love for her despite her abject and demeaning trickery, as well as her taking advantage of my sexual inexperience and naiveness. You see, she knew I was a virgin and made me swear to save myself for her on our wedding night. I HAVE A DISCUSSION WITH MOTHER AND SEEK ADVICE Dear, if you love her, give it a try and see if you two can work things out. As far as her denying you while fucking better hung men, I think that really says a lot about her good character wanting you to come to her a virgin. And sweetie, I want you to marry as a virgin too. Mother's words didn't totally set right with me, but she was right about me being so attracted to Tina and feeling a great deal of affection and adoration for her - even after discovering she was a tramp. I was really having a hard time accepting that I had been eating fuck gunk and even worse, that I had acquired a taste for Tina's jism saturated delectable pussy. Tom, if you truly love her, a few dicks and some jism from her studs shouldn't stop you. And because she is a sophisticated woman with robust sexual needs, who's willing to share her sex activities with you, by letting you taste the results of her liaisons, shows that she does care about you. Can't you see that? Tina had said something very similar, but hearing it from mother forced me to give it more serious thought. I was forced to conclude that since it was evident that Tina could leave me and have her choice of many better endowed, and more handsome studs if she desired, yet she chose to maintain her relationship with me. After some careful thought, I had to admit that maybe mother did have a point there. I also was concerned that mother liked Tina enough to overlook my concerns, since Tina and mom had similar personalities. Both were a bit bossy and wanted their way. It was funny that I never really took into account just how much alike they really are until this crisis. And son, as far as her draining their fuck gunk in your mouth, since you liked the taste before you knew what it was, then you're bound to continue to like it now that you know that it's fuck spend. Sure it will take a while to overcome the thought of eating another man's lusty spend, but since it's from the snatch of the woman you love, you'll get use to it before you know it. Mother also added that Tina was giving me an opportunity to compete with her well hung studs and evidently I was doing rather well at it for her to have kept our relationship in tact until now. Tom sweetie, you've seen videos and pictures of the well endowed men that have been fucking Tina. It's apparent you've managed to rank high with them when it comes to pleasing her in bed, even if you have to use your tongue the same as they use their dicks. As your mother, I've been worried about you finding a woman and keeping her with your small prick. And honey, you might as well face reality. Tina sees you as a wimp and a pantywaist. And you know she's not far from being wrong. But despite that she still cares for and loves you. It looks like you've done well for yourself son and proven to her you can be what she needs in a husband. I'm proud of you and so should you too, even if you have to eat a lot of cummy cream hair pies. Think of it sweetie as just using your head to achieve bliss in your relationship. Mother's smirking smile bothered me, as I was sure she was aware of the pun buried in her words. But despite that, her final words did bolster my ego when she said Remember, all is fair in love and war. Even though it was going to be an environment of severe humiliation for me, I took mother's advice and resumed the relationship with Tina. Mother also got me to see that Tina had become rather dependent on the great feeling that I gave when I went down on her cum filled muff and that it would be irresponsible for me to just up and quit doing that for her. Our relationship, to my surprise, became closer, and we grew to be even more loving and caring toward each other. We really did enjoy each other's companionship. However, Tina did find subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, ways to frequently remind me that her better endowed men were superior to me. It was odd, and I didn't have an explanation for my feelings, but the more she treated me in a condescending manner, the more I wanted to make her mine exclusively. Secretly, I knew all alone that it could never be. I knew I'd have to be content with my second fiddle role in our engagement and upcoming marriage. WE FINALLY GET MARRIED Her surprise wedding gift to me was literally shocking. She told me that she would be giving me a gift that would show her deep love for me as well as allow me to demonstrate my deep love for her. It was given to me the day before the wedding. We were driven to this little boutique and were led to a back room. Coffee was offered to us. After a few sips, the next thing I remembered was I was waking up. I had fallen asleep. I also felt that something else was different too, because I felt air around my genitals. It was then that my soon to be bride announced her gift to me - a high tech chastity device. It was an electronic cock lock that she and my mother and her mom would have remote controls. It was a scant device that had a plastic waterproof cable which was wrapped and locked wrapped around the base of my cock and balls. It contained a miniature plastic cylinder of encapsulated electronics. It was linked into the cell phone network. It tracked my movements, sent alarms to holders of the remotes, as well as gave varying levels of electrical jolts if I should try to have any sexual activity, including masturbation. And to demonstrate, I was given the lowest level of shock and that caused me to jump. I knew I didn't want to experience any higher level. "So Tom darling, you see if I didn't love you I wouldn't go to such an extent to prove it. And by you wearing this, it'll be crystal clear that you respect and honor me, our love for each other, and of course our marriage." I didn't have the same perspective as she and begged her to remove the device. "I-I'll be faithful to you Tina. I-I appreciate y-your wanting to show me j-just how much you love me in t-this unorthodox manner, b-but I-I can't wear..." At that moment in walked both our mothers and it was my own mom that cut me off. "You certainly can wear it. I think it's the perfect way to show your love and faithfulness to the woman you love." She spoke as she also added that she and Tina's mother got delayed in traffic. All in the room agreed with her - including the boutique sales person, which were all women. Just a note, my mother is a dominant force in my home and in my life. That's why Tina often refers to me as a mama's boy. Hearing mother's firm and unequivocal endorsement of my cock being under lock and key, so to speak, meant that was the way it was going to be, whether I liked it or not. I tried once more to offer a softly spoken rebuttal, to Tina and the others, but I could see that were all irritated by me and almost in unison rejected my plea and let me know that it was final. I would be leaving wearing the device. I mentally sighed as I pulled up my shorts and pants and composed myself. I felt so defeated and helpless. I know I looked pathetic. I had watery eyes. There were smiles on the faces of all the women as they observed me with evident amusement. And I shuddered as she and Tina's mom held her remote and looked at me as if they were anxious to use them to keep me in line with their ability to jolt me into being cooperative. I later found out that each remote had password access, so even if I could get my hands on one of them, it would be useless without the pass word. In addition, any activity by one remote, would inform the other remotes of its activity. The age of micro-electronics had doomed me. As with most other humiliations that were imposed on me, I soon became accustomed to wearing the cock lock. However, it was as much a control device as it was a sexual restraint. Sometimes, Tina wouldn't let me masturbate for as long as a month. She knew I was suffering. The device would allow me to get a woodie, but if I stroked myself for more than two strokes to assuage my horny throbbing, I would get a mini jolt, which brought me back to the reality that I was wearing such a device. She and the others our moms and Tina - would also get an alarm. There was hell to pay on my part if the three of them didn't feel satisfied with my explanation for the alarm. Many times I had to accept either corporal punishment - usually an electrical extension cord on my bare bottom - or face an extended time without masturbatory relief. The three women seem to purposely give me an option of something like an additional month of suffering versus 10 lashes from each of them. Knowing I was beaten at their game, I usually submitted to their hard lashes so as to not extend my sexual bondage. They really hit hard too. I knew mother seemed to be comfortable, even eager to whip me as I was whipped for infractions of her rules at home up until I was 21, when I started dating Tina. Her opinion was that I was never too old to receive such punishment, aka as a whipping, if I didn't behave properly. Hence my mama's boy persona. Tina and her mom both got on board with my mother's ideology and also seemed to delight in imposing hard lashes on me too. Mother even gave Tina a wedding present of a set of spanking and whipping instruments. The set included a perforated wood paddle, a mini cat O Nine whip, and a brand new skinny electrical extension cord type whip. It had a looped cord that was attached to a wood handle. It was apparent mother meant for the tradition of corporal punishment to follow me into my marriage. To my chagrin, my new bride was all too eager to be the steward of the tradition. Needless to say, whether she meant to or not, Tina became the dominant and controlling partner in our marriage. After all, if she had control of my cock lock and also established herself as the one who punishes me, what is there for me to say or do, but to yield to her. In the first six months of our marriage, I only got to put my throbbing cock in her hot wet muff 2 times. And then, another of her rules was that I always wear a condom when we have intercourse. Of course I was very upset, because I knew she was on the pill. Her rationale for keeping me in a latex sheath was that it keeps my love fresh for her since I have not been treated to all her charms, and that I won't take her for granted. And darling, it will give you something to aspire to getting one day, that is when I decide you're ready for it. She told me. Like many things, I could not persuade her to give any ground on this perception of hers. It hurt me again to know that all her other studs and lovers always got her raw and unencumbered and many times unprotected. Over the years, until the present, Tina has had 5 babies - all by other men, and not one from me. Remember, she demanded that I wear rubbers all those years - 14 years is a long time, don't you think? It's also a long time to be wearing a cock lock, which by the way has been changed out 5 times as new models came out. More advanced features, but the same debasing effect to me. Tina seems to get so much delight from having me jerk off. She has had me do this as part of our regular sexual relations all our marriage. However, after the our tenth wedding anniversary, I've only got to put my prick in her about once a year my birthday treat. I hate it that she's so fascinated seeing me pull my peter and spurting my load in open air, but what can I do if this helps me please her and helps me compete with her real men and their high powered sexual prowess. Also, when she's away with one of her studs and not available to release my cock lock and monitor my masturbation. She gets either my mom, or her mom, to oversee me beating my meat. Both also really seem to delight in seeing me labor to stroke myself off and clean up the slimy mess I make as I get off. Tina and both our moms often play games with me as they supervise me when I'm allowed to masturbate. They will often do things like tell me to stroke slow, then to speed up. And when I'm near the sought after point of no return, they'll suddenly tell me to stop. If I get off before they authorize me, which often happens and, I end up coming all over myself. As I'm sitting there with my hand all messy, they'll often chide and ridicule me for my lack of control. They can really make me feel guilty at times and berate me as a man. Sometimes they issue me demerits for my lack of control, which they redeem in the form of lashes on my bare backside, when Tina and our moms hold court on my behavior. It's so embarrassing to stand before them naked which they demand of me and have the 3 of them make me account for what they call errant behavior or misdeeds. I may be able to defend myself and get some of the demerits removed or forgiven, but in the end, they always make sure I don't escape them being able to lay a few hard lashes on my naked ass cheeks. As I mentioned earlier, it's obvious they all enjoy punishing me this way. Mother Debbie, as I said earlier, all our kids all have different biological fathers. And she's demanded that the Christian names of all our kids be direct derivatives of their real father's name. Their last names of course is mine All of our kids look like men I see everyday, since we live in a relatively small township. Two of the them are close acquaintances and the other two are co-workers. My wife has also has had me sign a release for paternity claims against all the biological fathers too. This made them all very happy, including our minister, who is the father of one of our sons. Another thing Mother Debbie, Tina has let me know that she would like to get pregnant at least 2 more times, no matter if she has twins or triplets each pregnancy. I tried to plead with her to stop having other men's babies, and well to stop getting pregnant period. You see I already work two jobs to support all the mouths in our growing family. Even if I say so myself, I'm a good daddy to all our children. Many have said so, including their real fathers. All of them have so told me several times how proud of me they are - especially our minister. My wife is pleased with me also and has acknowledged it to me also. "Dear you are such a darling daddy to the kids. I couldn't ask for a better husband. She also went on to say: You know by now it thrills and exhilarates me to place abject demands on you and to challenge your manliness and to see you kowtow to better men. It's something I need, and only you can fulfillment me in this way as my husband. "And honey, I know it's hard on you facing other men being my husband, especially those that have knocked me up. But as I see it, the more demeaning situations I create for you to face and endure, the more opportunities I give you to demonstrate your love for me. You really should be proud that you can boast of having endured and proven yourself so well at things that no real man would accept." To make matters worse, Tina believes that the men who have inseminated her have a special place in our marriage. That is that she should give them priority over me in reference to her time and sex too. She routinely and openly dates the real fathers of our kids while I'm home babysitting our kids. When she comes in the wee hours of the morning, it's also routine for her to straddle my face and feed me the contents of her cum filled well fucked cunt. She only fucks well endowed studs and they really fill her with their copious deposits of hot gooey ejaculated deposits, no matter whether one of my "Husband-in-laws" - her name for the real fathers of our kids - or other strange men that she puts out for. I can't explain it, but I still love my wife deeply and still worry that possibly one day, one of her studs will win her away from me. As a cuckold husband, no matter how much I think I have the true love of my wayward wife, I guess I'll always have this worry. Hence, as I see it, I have to always be ready to take that next step to prove I'm worthy of being her husband. AROUND THE HOUSE In addition to being sort of the family maid - i.e., since it seems I end up doing quite a number of household chores. I'm also my wife's pussy barber. That is, she has me shave and trim and keep her beautiful muff bush shapely and looking well manicured. My wife really compliments on how well I do. Her praise really makes me proud of my handiwork,even if it's to make her pussy pretty for other men's dicks. I've also ended up being my wife's social secretary too. You see, her many men friends often call our house and leave messages for her, with me. She's told them to always ask for me when they want to leave a message. I of course have to take them, and yes it does bother me to take messages for her that are really nothing more than motel sex dates. But I hide my emotions and have resigned myself to doing this because she demands it of me. The callers are often so graphic and earthy with their messages, and frequently even tell me what type lingerie I should make sure she wears, or brings with her. However, on the other hand, I guess it's common courtesy that I should accept their compliments when the callers tell me what a good piece of ass my wife is and how well she got them off. These calls are of course very bitter sweet, but it pangs me even more when a caller lets me know that she's to meet a group of hard-up sex starved men and that she'll be the only woman there. I hate it even more that when I visualize what they're telling me. Many times I get a boner that won't go away for a long time. I just have to suffer the throbbing ache in my loins until it goes down on its on, since I'm wearing that darn cock lock. Tina often knows when I'm hard up and exposes her tits or pussy to me, knowing it just exacerbates my sexual longing and suffering. And I know she likes it when she's out on a date, and knows that I'm at home with a throbbing aching hard-on and can't do anything about it until she returns and permits me to jerk off always after sucking her date's abundant semen from her used pussy. My wife is very proud of being gang banged and having trains pulled on her. She's let me know that the her current record for a group is 25 men. She loves to be very descriptive of how they all came at least twice, and some 3 times, in one or more of her three holes that she made available to them to fuck. I remember that record setting event too. Her pussy was so puffy, bruised, and red from all the dick assaults, and she really appreciated the soothing lapping on my tongue to ease the swelling. I remember sucking out so much thick melded cum out of her gapping gash. It had the consistency of pudding. She was so proud of herself for pleasing all those dicks. For some strange reason, I was happy for her, even though I was greatly degraded as her husband. On several occasions when we could get our moms or another babysitter for our kids, Tina would involve me on her sex dates with her studs. She felt I needed to see and be involved on a first hand basis, that is, to see what she was getting from them that I couldn't give her. I wasn't keen on the idea at all when she proposed it early in our marriage. However, with pressure from her parents and mine, I gave in. Back then, it was extremely awkward for me to be in a motel room as the husband of a wife who was the slut of honor for a group of 4 horny, tall, and brawny men. At only a little over 5'6, I was totally outclassed in all respects. Not only were the 4 studs more handsome than me, they were very muscular and to the man, at least 6 feet in height and all easily had thick cocks of at least twice the size of my slender 4 prick. It was even worse that I was made to get nude as everyone else in the room. Their laughter at my smaller equipment cut right through me as I blushed profusely. It was my wife's idea for me to see up close just how good a job her studs would do when coupled to her. I couldn't believe she wanted me situated such that I would be under her crotch as she and her men friends would be having intercourse. But yes, that's exactly what she wanted. I tried to refuse her, but it was to no avail as her men friends wouldn't hear of me being uncooperative. They easily intimidated me, which drew what I consider a wicked smile from my wife, as I shut up and hurriedly took the face up position on the floor as I was told. Tina positioned herself over me such that her cunt was right above my face. As one after the other of the 4 men coupled with her doggy style, their heated and wetly joined sex organs were millimeters above my face. The closeness, the heat, the squishy nosiness, the dripping sliminess, not to mention the mingled sensual pleasurable guttural moans from my wife and the men getting their nuts off in my wife, caused me the utmost abashment. I also had a rock hard throbbing boner that I couldn't get to go down. That in itself added to my horrendous embarrassment and shame knowing that I was so aroused in the situation I was in. What I was experiencing did indeed give me an education in regard to the sexual prowess of my wife's studs. In addition, the big loosely hanging hairy nut sacs of her men were constantly being dragged across and bounced over my face. I was directed to lick the hairy balls above my face so as to enhance the men's enjoyment of my wife. Needless to say, and to my chagrin, I obediently did as I was told. As each stud got off in Tina's accommodating cunt and pulled out, a lot of gloppy cum and slimy pussy juice would gusher out and coat my face. Needless to say, this fuck gunk would get in my mouth. During these fucking breaks, my wife would have me freshen up her gapping drippy gash as she lowered and pressed her messy pussy bush to my upturned mouth. I had to suck out what I could before the next stud lined himself up to push his big truncheon of hard dick meat in her very soft and juicy fuck slit. In an urgent imperative tone, she directed me to guide each man's stout rigid dick in her eager receptive twat. To say it was an abject put down to be guiding other men's dicks into my wife's delectable pussy, would be an understatement. A pussy that saw very little of my own prick, and to boot, mine never experienced her raw and wet as I was seeing up close and personal. And to add to my misery, I maintained an involuntary hard-on that seemed to get even more rigid the more I tried to mentally wish it away. Needless to say, I was constantly and severely ridiculed by her men for my erection throughout my ordeal, as the group used my beautiful wife to satiate their lust. However, I must say, I couldn't help but be awed at the size of their dicks, the amount of thick semen repeatedly ejaculated, and the stamina and sustained length of time all 4 of the studs could fuck. Again, I was totally, totally outclassed and and the proof was literally in my face. Their exceptional fucking performance drove home just how inadequate I was compared to them. And while my wife thought this would be a great educational experience for me to see her men in action, I also have to give credit to her part in all this. I had seen my wife cavorting and sexually frolicking in pictures and on video before. But being their in person brought home to me that I'd married one sexually sophisticated and liberated hot woman, who could really fuck and handle a dick, or dicks. And do so expertly, I might add. I learned then and there why she was such a dick magnet. Don't ask me why, but I couldn't help but be proud of her slutty skills. Over the course of our marriage, I was often called upon to be a sex aid, as I described above, for my wife's sex dates with her many men friends. Additionally, I have also been required to be a fluffer for her dates at these orgy gang bangs. That is, I was called upon to use my mouth to get her men erect for entry into her juicy hot cunt (this was more of an excuse for them to shame me by having me place my mouth on their dicks, since I can't think of a single time when they weren't steel hard to begin with). I also had to orally clean their languished dicks after they pulled out of her sloppy, slimy, frothy hairy snatch. As I've mentioned, after eating her out, my wife Tina usually likes to have me jack off for her. She gets the greatest thrill out of seeing me shoot off into "Air Pussy" - her words - and making a mess with my stuff shooting out all over my hands. She often tell me that "Air and hand Pussy" is best for a little prick mama's boy like me. After about the fourth year of marriage, she has insisted that I cup my hands and collect my jack off juice. Then she directed me to lick my ejaculate from my hand and fingers. "Tom, since you suck other men's jism from my pussy, why shouldn't you suck up your own cum too?" Was her rationale to me, as she fingered the cock lock remote she wore around her neck. I couldn't counter her logic and knew I couldn't fight her control over my genitals. From that time on, I've been licking up my meat beating spend. It's amazing how you get use to things. With her repeated insistence of me doing such a disgusting thing, it soon became second nature to me to do as she demanded. WRAPPING UP MY STORY I work hard to provide for my family, and try hard to always keep my wife happy and pleased. I always try to do whatever she asks of me. I guess I'm so devoted to her, and love her so much because I feel she really does have a special love for me, even though others may interpret her actions as treating me as a slave and a fool. However, as she and I have discussed, different couples have different recipes for happiness. It's rather obvious, that she wouldn't be happy if she couldn't treat me as she does. So I constantly try to make my wife happy as best I can with my small prick and unassuming personality. I guess I'm also old fashioned and still believe in traditional values. My minister tells me that it's my duty to honor, love and obey my wife, and to stay with her for better or worse. You see, these were the vows that she insisted that I accept at our wedding. Her only vows were that she would accept me as her loving and devoted husband. She never swore to be faithful as I did. I guess I should have known something was wrong when I heard the minister read those words to us, but I was too much in love and didn't want to make a fuss over such a thing. Oh, before I close this letter, there's one other thing I forgot. Many times my wife will goes on weekend trips with one of our husband-in-laws, or other men. She had the audacity to ask me to fill in for her if any of our husband-in-laws, or her other men, came by to see her with a hard dick. She expected me to give out blow jobs on demand I found it so difficult to believe that a loving wife would volunteer me, her husband, to willingly take loads of hot gluey slimy sperm intended for her, but she did. I tried to refuse the men that first time one of them came over with a raging throbbing boner, but found out that it's best to go ahead and give head rather than risk getting a beating for not sucking their throbbing dicks and drinking their hot loads of semen. A horny man doesn't listen to reasoning too well when he has a hard dick. After that first time, I became a regular cocksucker for our husbands-in-law and her many other men friends. Being a cocksucker really helped out when my wife was late in her term from her second pregnancy on. All of her studs frequently used my mouth to deposit their abundant loads of jism while my wife was out of service sexually. I had to get use to having her watch me on my knees getting my mouth stuffed by her studs. Tina's dad, my father-in-law, also availed himself of my mouth as a place to ejaculate loads of his hot pent up sperm. Thanks to him, he has also helped me get additional income by renting me out to suck the dicks of his horny buddies and other clients. He has become sort of my manager - some might call him a pimp, but manager sounds less risque. I had to get use to being labeled one of many names such as faggot whore or sissy whore or pansy pussy or pussy boy, but over time I have become desensitized to such terms. Tina is also thrilled that her dad has turned me into his pussy boy whore - his term for me. She exhibited such a bright warm smile when she first learned that I had turned my first night of tricks. I was surprised at a similar response from Tina's mom and an even more joyful reaction from my own mom. Both families are very supportive of my whorish actions, especially in that it helps me be a good provider for my growing family. By the way, Tina is pregnant again. She's hoping for twins again I'm not. She admits she has no idea who the father is - except it's not me. I have to admit I've become a very skilled cocksucker and become acclimated to the taste of fresh hot creamy jism. I also can't help but feel a certain level of pride that strange horny men are willing to pay to use my mouth as a surrogate pussy for their pent up ejaculatory deposits. And with the guidance and encouragement from Tina's dad, I have also been taught to take cocks up my ass. He had me see that learning to get ass-fucked as a rape preventive measure. It would lessen any injuries if I had a dick ready ass cunt. He also got me to see that my new ass-pussy had to be used frequently to keep me pliable, so he's also rented me out for that purpose too. I have to add that all of the clients who have fucked me have complimented me for being a pretty good piece of ass. After reading this expose on my marriage, I'm sure some are bound to say that my wife's treatment of me is degrading or even despicable. Some may say that I'm a pathetic wimp and pantywaist and deserve whatever she mets out to me. The relationship between Tina and I has been unorthodox to say the least, yet despite everything, over the years we have strongly complimented each other's needs. It's apparent she has this inner need to treat me the way she does. She has repeatedly let me know that I'm the perfect husband for her. It makes me feel good inside to know that as her husband, I please her in a way that her real men can't. And yes, as I'm sure I have strongly stated or implied, I have this inner need to have her love and companionship. And yes, even if it's on her own terms and conditions and compromises my self-esteem. But over all, Tina really is a great mother to our kids and a good wife to me. Her definition of a good wife is where she continually proves her love for me by constantly challenging me to do things that a real man would never do. And I have to say, it looks like I have been successful in meeting her expectations. Well Mother Debbie that's pretty much the way things are with Tina and me. And in wrapping up this letter, I hope I have shown that a cuckold marriage can be a happy and harmonious one, as long as the husband understands he will have to check his ego, dignity, self-worth and esteem at the door when he enters the relationship. He must also understand that subjugation, corporal punishment, and sexual suffering, as I have endured, at the hands of a beautiful wife - who does these things because this is her special way of showing her love for him - can result in a warm loving relationship. I guess for some of us, these type marital relationships are easier to accept, especially for us unassuming mama's boys. And maybe that's why we are able to find such beautiful wives, and that we remain their faithful husbands, despite the abject demands they impose on us. Sincerely, Tom ==============MOTHER DEBBIE'S REPLY & COMMENTS ====== Tom, I thank you for such a wonderful and lengthy letter to my collection of satisfying and happy cuckold marriages. Before I go on, I send warm congratulations to you and your wife on the the new arrival that the stork will be bringing to your growing family in a few months. And I fully agree with you, cuckold males must check their egos, dignity, self-worth and esteem at the door of a cuckold relationship, if they desire it to be happy and harmonious. And when you think of it, it's a small price to pay for happiness with a beautiful woman such as your wife, despite that she's a slut to many men. But I know you take warm solace in the fact that she always come back home, no matter what man takes her out, or that she reeks of sex and has a pussy drenched and loaded with other men's semen. It is extremely satisfying to her to know that you, as her husband is always there for her and will always take her back, no matter if she's been well fucked and used or even if she's been inseminated with a baby from another man too. Personally, Tom, I don't think you have a single thing to worry about in regard to losing your wife to handsome, brawny big dick studs. However, like you implied, a cuckold husband can never take things for granite and always must be willing to go to another level of ridicule and degradation to give his wife the satisfaction that is necessary to keep her yours. I really think it's so wonderful that your wife's real men call and leave you messages and notes for her. This is good for you to be in frequent contact with the alpha males in your marriage. It reminds and keeps you comfortable in your proper inferior role in the marriage. In regard to your cock lock and having to endure blue balls and throbbing hard-ons for an extended period of time. As you implied, this makes your wife happy, so you should feel good about suffering in this manner for her. Please, don't be selfish and think only of yourself. Besides, abstinence helps your ball pressure build up, and when you are allowed to jack off for your wife and/or your moms, I'm sure them seeing you squirt high and strong adds to their pleasure too. Again, think of them, not only your own needs. And it just warms my heart to see traditions passed down from your mother to her daughter-in-law. Even though it may blister and bruise your naked bottom, I'm sure you can feel the tough love Tina and your moms express for you when you deserve it. And Tom, it's so good to see you have a warm and close relationship not only with your mom, but also with your in-laws. I compliment you. First, I have to say it's marvelous that, in the absence of your wife, your mother-in-law is nice enough to take time out to supervise your jacking yourself off and that you properly milk your self as well as seeing that you lick your hands clean of your spend. Secondly, I think it's so wonderful that your father-in-law thinks enough of you to have make you his whore. That should make you beam with pride to have won his confidence. I know Tina can't help but be thrilled that you get along so well with her family. And Tom, I have to add that you contribute more to your wife's sexual pleasure by jacking off for her rather than putting it in. Anyway, it's pretty much understood that mama's boys excel at beating their meat, so therefore you should not feel any shame or be offended in jacking off as a normal part of your conjugal marital sex acts, that is along with sucking your wife's pussy clean of her studs' many deposits of sperm. And in reference to your mother, you are indeed fortunate to have one who gave you such good counsel to not give up on your relationship with Tina just because she's a popular slut. I just love her advice to you about using your head. And another compliment Tom, really an extraordinary plus and high praise. I can't praise you enough for being a pussy boy whore and using your fuck earnings to be a good provider for your slut wife and kids she's had by other men. And congratulations on being a skilled cocksucker and being recognized as a pretty good piece of ass. And it really makes me feel good knowing you're such a great helpmate to your wife in helping her with her real men's dicks. Without a doubt, all devoted cuckold husbands should be surrogate cunts for their wife's real men friends. I've always said, a husband taking a stud's dick and sperm that was intended for his wife is such a romantic thing. A cuckold has to be proud of the love his wife has for him, that is, a husband that can't compare in the cock department with her real men, but who gives her what her studs never could. A good cuckold husband will always show strong affection and be there for her, no matter how much his wife puts him down for his inadequacy as a real man. A good cuckold may not openly express it as you implied in your letter - but has to have great pride in the sexual prowess his sluttish wife exhibits in soothing and softening the big hard dicks of so many men. Please note, being a cuckold is not for the faint of heart. It takes fortitude, tenacity, and courage to be a good cuckold husband. Much more courage and confidence than being a so called real man. But I'm very pleased with you Tom. You have your head screwed on right. You have reaped the rewards of your continuing ordeal by doing what it takes to be a good provider and faithful husband of a beautiful, but dominant unfaithful wife. In addition, your pride as the daddy of all the kids that were sired in your wife by other men is praise worthy. Thanks again Tom, much happiness in your marriage, and again, congratulations on your new family addition. Sincerely, Mother Debbie

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright FEBRURARY 2008 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form or sold for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(Cuckold, M+/F, MM, MF, FemDom, MDom) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE I call myself the Collector. I live in Phantomville. You readers know of this little town through the author C.D.E. And in this very interesting city, I find out things. I listen for information. I capture and collect facts and tidbits of knowledge of all sorts. I have been a cable guy, a pool guy, a home repairman, you name it, I've been all those things. That's how I've gotten into many homes and businesses. It really has helped me with my information voyeurism collection. What you are about to read is a story I've acquired through through less than legal means. Even though I use various electronic devices to eavesdrop, I also have been known to do some breaking and entering. This is how I obtained the following story from a Relationship Counselor's files. The names have been changed to protect all parties. And even I must admit it is a very interesting account of the type things that occur here in my fair city of Phantomville. I have enlisted the aid of C.D.E. to put the final touches on this intriguing expose and to bring it to your attention. For I wish to remain in the background and do what I do best. That is, to remain anonymous so as to feed my little voyeuristic hobby. Who knows what future narratives might be forthcoming, from me, the Collector. Title: Phantomville VOL 2: A Husband's Saga Author: C.D.E. & The Phantomville Collector CAST: Wayne - Husband Julie - Wayne's wife Ted - Wayne's wife's boss and the family stud Dr. Johnson Relationship Counselor Dear Dr. Johnson, As you requested me to do as part of my therapy, I have written a story about the events in my marriage. And just as you said, writing about them does ease the stress I have endured as a cuckolded husband who has an unassuming and submissive personality, but with a beautiful wife Julie - who is a cock magnet for well endowed aggressive men. As I began to outline how and what I was going to write, I really didn't have a clue where to start, so I just wrote about a few recent events I've had to deal with. My story is at the end of this letter and I hope you find it readable. Also, I will be bringing the story topics to you for discussion at our next session. However, I suspect that I will have to go along with Julie's boss's program - again. However, as I said, we'll talk about that later. However, as I'm writing this letter, which is sort of a preface to my story, I have to thank you for the countless time, for your sincere and caring counsel. I don't think I could have endured all that I've been through without your professional guidance and advice. As you know, I didn't discover Julie was untrue to me until she became pregnant by her boss Ted 5 months before our wedding in June of 19XX. As you know now, I was so upset and devastated to learn of her infidelity. And in addition, I was further anguished and overwhelmed with humiliation when I learned that the tasty creamy gooey-ness I often enjoyed when sucking Julie's delectable pussy, was that way in great part from the ejaculatory spend from the cocks of her many past lovers, and recently at that time, quite a lot of the ejaculations from her now primary stud and boss Ted. Sure her pussy had a seminal and gamy smell, but I found it erotic and tantalizing, and well tasty. Plus it was such a wonderful feeling being so close and intimate with her, as she held my head in the grotto of her hot moist hairy crotch. And with me being so trusting and inexperienced, I simply never thought Julie would have me feasting on other men's spent spunk. As you know, I discovered that I'd consumed a lot of it though. As you also know, when I came to you for counseling, I was still extremely naive and very inexperienced about sex. As you also know, I was very experienced at masturbation, as mother stressed that is what I should do to relieve my sexual lust, and save my virginity for marriage. That is what I did through my teens and through college. I was 23 when I met Julie. All those years, mother monitored and questioned me frequently to ensure that my virginity was intact. She could easily tell if I was lying to her, so I didn't. I lived at home all those years and she often had me masturbate as she looked on to ensure I did a proper job of fluid release to relieve my sexual pressure. She was so proud of my continued virginity, and as a result since it pleased her, so was I even though I longed for sexual intercourse with a woman. As we discussed in our sessions, once Julie learned I was a virgin, she insisted I remain so until we were married. She made me swear a commitment to her, to do so. I was a bit disappointed at her demand, but yet respected and admired her since her thinking was so akin to that of mother. To relieve our mutual sexual tensions which were inevitable, she taught me to perform oral sex upon her and had me jerk off for her afterwards. This was how we had sex many, many times. I found the taste of delightful and delicious. And she seemed so pleased to see me beat my meat and come all over my hands. She always had the biggest smile as as she watched me and had endless praise at how well I could masturbate and jack off my little prick - her words. I of course was a bit self-conscious of my small size, but Julie reassured me many times and emphatically, that my size was of no consequence to her, and the love she had for me was deep and pure. She told me she had been looking for such a sweet, well mannered, gentleman like me for a long time. And for me to be a virgin was extra special for her. Julie admitted that she was not a virgin, but that she would remain abstinent along with me until we got married. That is except for the special sex we two were having. She and I didn't start our special sex until we were engaged. I was enthralled with her. I felt we were true soul mates. We were engaged only a month after our first date. Mother liked her a lot too. I think it was because was witty and decisive and a bit bossy like mom was. You may remember from our sessions that Julie and I first met when I changed a flat tire for her. As you know, after her unfaithfulness was out in the open, Julie still expressed her still deep love for me despite how she had tricked and manipulated me in such an abject degrading way. Julie readily confessed to cheating on me with many men, and having numerous one night stands, as well as turning some tricks when her money was short, during the earlier part of our engagement. In the later part of our engagement, she got an office job working for Ted. Being very handsome and assertive and well endowed, he basically captivated her and made her, for all practical purposes his concubine. Some might say his slut and whore. He let her know he was not the marrying type, but that she and he could still be lovers while she remained with me. I was pleased to learn later that she admitted to him, that she had a special love for me, despite that she lusted for him with a special passionate love. Julie admitted that it was naughty and wicked to have tricked and treated me the way she did before meeting Ted, and of course afterwards with Ted, but that it gave her the greatest erotic thrill pleasure to know that she was sexually degrading me. And knowing you were so innocent, inexperienced, easy going, and naive just made it that more intense and special to me. That is the love I experienced with you Wayne. A kind of love I have never experienced with any other guy. Were Julie's words to me. She spoke with such genuine sincerity, I couldn't help but believe her and still want her to be mine, despite all that had happened and how I had been abused. Wayne darling, I really love you, and I know you love me. We have something special, but I care for Ted too and want to have his baby. It will be our baby. He's not going to make any paternal claims. He wants us to think of it as a wedding gift from him to get our marriage off to a good start. Julie's words stunned me. I was even more speechless when she added that she would still work for Ted as well as be his woman, while married to me. It took me a few moments to rebound from my flustered state of being dumbfounded by all she'd said. However, after some involved thinking, I came to the conclusion that if I wanted Julie, I would probably have to have to accept her boss's gift to us. She said abortion was out of the question. But as I also concluded there was no reason I had to accept him as part of the package. Julie had told me a lot about Ted, including how witty, persuasive and charismatic he was, and then went into more sordid aspects I really didn't want to hear about. Such as, how good he was in bed, how big his penis was, and his stamina and prowess in using it. I quickly concluded that her boss had brainwashed her and held some type of hypnotic sway over her to be able to have her to come to me and admit she was pregnant by him; tell me how she'd degraded me through our special sex activities; and still want me to marry her; and for her to remain his woman. I was never so angered. I'm not a confrontational man, but I just knew I had to go give her Boss a piece of my mind as well as get her another job. I had made up my mind she had to leave this Rasputin. Well Dr. Johnson, you know the outcome. Despite Julie not wanting me to confront Ted, I did. When I met him for the first time, the reality of his physical 6'1" height and massive muscular build, as compared to my 5'6" height and slender build, was a reality slap in the face However, my anger drove me on. I was determined to let him know of my extreme displeasure with the gall he had shown in sending my fiancee to me not only pregnant, but sending me a message that she was still going to be his woman, even though she was soon to be my wife. He let me vent for about 30 seconds, then with an obvious smirk on his face, he looked at me and asked Wayne, how did you like eating my cum out of Julie's pussy? Those few words were worse than if he had knocked me to the floor. He knew he had my attention then. I became speechless. He next went into explaining his understanding why I should be angry at what he had done, and apologized, but then indicated that Julie ws to blame for being so weak with him. He then moved on to Julie's sluttish background as well as her beauty, and then into her being a dick magnet. He then went on to explain how there was no way I could fuck and satisfy her as he could, and that eating her used cum filled pussy was the best way for me to fulfill her kinky, or mental sexual satisfaction. He then indicated that he was doing me a favor in fucking her. He also said that by intentionally knocking her up and letting her know he had no intentions of marrying her, the result was that she needed me more than ever - that is to be the daddy of her baby and to have the opportunity to humiliate me even more - which increased her kinky satisfaction. "Wayne, I know you love her deeply. If you want her to be your loving wife, you'll accept the humiliation she's dumping on you now, and adapt to in the future. She'll be yours forever. You won't ever have to worry about losing her no matter how many different men fuck her, or knock her up, and cause her to bring their babies home to you." Ted went on to tell me that from what she's told him of me and from what he's assessed of me just from meeting me, he said, "You should do well being put upon, feeling insignificant and and stripped of your self-esteem as a man." He went on to add "Sharing her with a real man, who will give her reason to stay with you, is better than having no wife at all." That stuck with me as a very profound statement, despite all the other derogatory comments and innuendos that had been literally poured on me in the discussion. I was still speechless and silent the whole while he was talking. You're not saying much Wayne. Cat got your tongue? I know you have a lot on your mind. here I want to show you something that may help bring home some of the points I've mentioned." Saying that, he pressed the buttons on a TV remote on his desk and a wall mounted big screen TV, of his well adorned office suite, came to life with a video showing Ted and Julie finishing up a rousing a bout of sexual intercourse. She really came as he poured the meat to her. As they settled down, he pulled his sizable cock from her very wet and messy looking cunt. There was a long slimy fuck string briefly connected to his softened, but still sizable glistening cock, which had a large, well shaped dick head. I could hear Julie thinking him for Fucking her so wonderfully - her words. There were quite a bit of conversation that took place in the 3 or so minutes of that part of the video, but the essence of it was that Julie was late meeting me and that Ted urged her to make sure I enjoyed eating his cum out of her well fucked pussy. Oh Ted darling, you know I always do. It makes me feel so good to have him eat your stuff and to hear and feel him slurping up your creamy jism. It does me good to hear him sounding like a dog lapping up water. Plus he really likes the taste of my cream pie. He's a natural cum sucker. I love him so much even though I can't help myself for wanting to treat him this way. Spoke Julie as I see her on the video stuffing a handkerchief in her wet gash to keep Ted's cum from leaking. I recalled her pulling a handkerchief from her juicy muff many times before guiding my face to her moist and erotic gamy smelling hairy muff for our "special sex" sessions. I sat speechless as Ted directed me to watch the time date information at the bottom of the TV screen. The following scene showed Julie arriving at her place and soon after entering her apartment, where I was waiting on her, she began to undress and shortly thereafter, straddle my face and I was slurping loudly on the heavy deposit that less than 40 minutes earlier had been ejaculated in her by her Boss. And very clearly recorded in bright color and in clear sound, was me feasting on his jism and extolling how tasty my fiancee's cunt was after it was obviously fucked by her boss. To make matters worse, afterwards, while exposing her cunt and tits to me, I could be seen masturbating my cock while Julie was teasing and urging me to me look upon and see what was being denied to me now, but what awaited me on my wedding night, as she rubbed her well sucked hairy muff and kneaded her ample tits. Compared to Ted's magnificent member, I looked pathetic and even more so in the action of beating my meat. And even more so as I shot my cum all over my hands and was moaning in pleasure of my welcomed release. Mercifully, Ted clicked the video off. Ejected the DVD and threw it at me. You can have this one, I have plenty more, and of different dates. I was so enervated I could barely move, even though I wanted to run out of that place so badly. But before I could get up enough energy to move, Ted had some words for me. Listen Wayne, some parting words. Julie is quite a catch for you. Sure, she's a slut and a whore, but so what. You know you love her, and as you heard and as she's told you, she has a special love for you. No real man could give her what she expects from you, but then I don't see you as much of a real man the way you like to eat her cum filled cunt. He went on tell me a lot of what Julie had already confessed to me. One of those revelations was as best she could recollect, up until that point in time, she had fed me the semen of at least 100 different men that had fucked her. He basically told of things that validated she was an outright slut, and a part time whore. He wasn't bashful as he added that he would get a kick out her being my wife and his slut. He went on. And so you see Wayne, if I hadn't started fucking her and got her wrapped up, some other big dick guy would have. I care for her in my own way too, but not near enough to want to marry her. I'm glad she understands that. But she's basically a good kid and I want to keep her around. She does good work here. And you might as well know this, I'm gonna have her occasionally put out for some of my clients, so you'll have to get use to that, and of course me fucking her too. I couldn't believe it, but I did feebly respond to his outstretched hand. His strong grip caused me to wince, which added to my feeling of being vanquished and so inferior to him. I walked away in a fog of befuddlement and amazement. I couldn't help but hate the smooth talking Ted, but at the same time I couldn't help but be in awe of him also. For you see, I had to respect the wisdom of many of the things he'd said. It was clear he had control over Julie and that I would have to accept that if I wanted her. I also would have to accept his child in her too. As I thought, I would also have to accept the humiliation she would dump on me, as she found me being humiliated her strongest attraction to me. As you know now Dr. Johnson, I was a totally beaten, and well, berated man when I left his office. I almost knew I would find it hard to walk away from Julie, but didn't want to admit it. I didn't know what to do, so I went to mother - my rock - for advice. ((((((WAYNE HAS A TALK WITH HIS MOTHER))))))) "Son, just because Julie is a slut and whore, and is carrying another man's baby, and loves you because she can humiliate you easily, is not a solid reason to give up on a loving relationship that can be had between you two. I looked at mother wild eyed. Son I can see that you're a bit bewildered at my words, but the truth of the matter is that you're a nice well mannered boy, but you're still a wimp with a small dick and a weakling. You should know by now, from all you've told me, you can't satisfy Julie without help from a real man that's well endowed and has the sexual stamina to please her. Son, she needs both you and Ted. He can satisfy her cunt as well as demand her respect and control her with his strengths, which you can't. She needs that from him. She also needs to dominate and put down a lesser male that knows he's not as superior as her real man. That's where you come in. In addition, she's let me know she's crazy about the way you You can give her wet, jism filled, well dicked, used pussy, a great tonguing. Speechless still, I could only listen and wonder if this is the same person that I knew to be my mom. Yes son, I like Julie. I sort of suspected she wasn't as upfront and as pure as she originally pretended. But I still like her spirit. She's also called me and told me a few things, since her confession to you. I think she's so right about you. She loves you, and she knows you love her. She really is sincere dear. Finally able to speak, I asked mother if she supported Julie humiliating me as she had. Son, as your mother, I want you to have happiness. You know you love her deeply. You now find it humiliating that you were happy eating Julie's sloppy hairy cream pie for several months. It was delicious to you. Now that you know it was her lover's cum rather than her juices, should it matter? My face turned red as I opened my mouth to reply, but was cut off. The fact is, you were happy to do that for her and she was happy to have you do it. And yes, it would be humiliating for a real man to do that, but sweetie, a real man wouldn't like eating a cum filled hair pie anyway. But remember son, you can be a good husband to Julie and not have to worry about being her real man. Okay?" I cringed in silence at my own mother's words. That's okay baby, you don't have to say a word. It's obvious what you have to do to have her as your wife. And my vote is that you do it." She then hugged me and I hugged her. In a soft spoken matronly tone, mother let me know that she thought I would handle being humiliated very well. Wayne dearest, as your mother, I believe you have the stamina and will do very well being constantly humbled and reminded of your place by Julie, as well as Ted. And a plus for you is that you're acclimated and love the taste of his cum being in her wet used drippy pussy." "SIGH! I-I am not a confrontational person a-and I-I try to get along with everybody." "I know you do sweetie. I know you'll get along very well with the two of them, no matter that you'll have to endure a some indignities and put-down from both of them. But you'll adapt and soon find it second nature. Your easy going nature is so well suited for this." "SIGH! O-Okay, if-if you say so." Mother also added that Julie's family had contacted her and that she agreed with them that Julie and I should begin visiting a Relationship Counselor you Dr. Johnson. Mother revealed at that time that you were an expert in helping couples where the secret to marital happiness is the husband being a cuckold. She was definitely right about that. Well anyway, mother and I continued to talk. We were still embracing as we did so. She then brought up again my taste for Julie's cum drenched hair pie. "B-But it-it is so embarrassing t-that I-I love the creamy taste of her after h-he's used her." "Son, just focus on your enjoyment and doing a good job of pleasing her in the process of vacuuming all that creamy fuck gunk out out of her pussy." Was her advice. Mother went on to tell me that my being a good cunt eater was one of my strong points. Julie had told me the same thing. Mother also told me that it would mean a lot to Ted too, since that was a a sure sign of my respect to him, as well as a sincere gesture that he was the better man. "And son, as her tummy swells with his baby, you'll get over that she's carrying his child. Sure you'll be a bit embarrassed that others will know it's not yours and that you're a virgin and have had to beat yourself off all the time Ted and other men were fucking her. But you're very good at jacking off, and nobody can accuse you of not doing a good job of jerking off. Can they baby? I was embarrassed, but I meekly answered N-No they can't mother. You taught me well how to jack off... a-and good too. I replied while still embracing her tightly with my head on her shoulder. Mother and I talked of my performing oral sex on Julie and told me of some techniques. As a way of consoling me, she offered me her pussy to suck and practice on right then and there. She also admitted that all our talking had gotten her heated and horny. I know it was incest and probably immoral, but going down on mother and putting my mouth on her hot hairy pussy and licking and tonguing her muff was so thrilling. The white expanse of her parted fleshy thighs and the shape of the v they formed leading to her luxurious bush, was such an erotic enticing view. After my oral treatment on her, mother gave me a glorious hand job. The release was so good and I guess that since it was mother's soft hands, that it all that much better. All the while stroking me, mother told me what a good son I was and that it was important to save for myself for my bride, no matter that she was a slut and pregnant by her lover. For some reason, mother's words, which were basically a validation of my humiliation, caused me to reach the point of no return and soon I was erupting all over mother's soft hands. I came really good. In my sexual afterglow, mother kissed me and said Sweetie, that was good for both of us. You really do suck pussy good. I'm proud of you. We'll have to do this again. Okay? Still a bit ashamed of having sexual activity with my mother, I silently nodded in the affirmative. Good boy. And Wayne, I have to say this, Julie is really an ideal mate for you. Spoke mother as she went on to explain that my new bride to be had accommodated my under endowment by getting me help I didn't know about in the form of other men and her Boss Ted. Mother also praised Julie for her getting me more skilled in the two things I do well at namely sucking pussy and supervised masturbation. I had to admit to mother that jacking off under Julie's observation was a pleasant reminiscent of me beating off while she watched me. Wayne, even though Julie, cheated on and tricked you, that is by fucking other men and having you suck their cum from her cunt, it was for your own good. It has resulted in you being acclimated and coming to see that you love eating her hairy cream pies. And most importantly, realizing that it's a good thing for you to do. Not only as a most satisfying and effective way to please your wife-to-be, but for you to see that while it's not something a real man would do, it's okay for you as her husband-to-be to do. I-I see. Was all I could say as I replied softly. And with Ted helping you two to get off on a good start with your family, it's really not as depressing a situation as you perceive it to be son. When I left mother, I have to admit I was in a better frame of mind concerning my situation. And she was right, I things didn't look a negative as I had perceived them to be. Dr. Johnson, as you now know, Julie and I made up. And with your counseling, I rather quickly adapted to sharing her with Ted, and other men, became increasingly at ease being a cunt sucking, second fiddle that remained in the background of our relationship. By the time June came around, Julie was almost 5 months and very much showing. She wanted a June wedding and the only way was for her to wear a maternity bride's gown. The wedding was uneventful, except for Julie insisting that Ted be our best man. I knew it was useless to object, as by that time, Ted had gotten to know both our families and won both over with his charisma. There was no doubt they thought he was the best man. Julie's dad even told me I should be thankful that he even shares her with me the way he does. He and most others knew that I was sucking Ted's cum from Julie's used twat and had readily assessed me as so much lower than a man. Mother even chided me for even discussing it with her, in confidence. She was amazed at why I could even fathom why I should in any way be embarrassed at him being in that role. Wayne, dear, I thought by now you'd gotten over your silly pride and be more accepting of losing self-esteem and being put upon. And you've been doing so well too with your therapy with Dr. Johnson. However, she did indicate that from time to time, may need some strong encouragement to remind you of your lesser status. She mentioned to me that you occasionally could probably use a good whipping to drive that point home. I cringed and quickly begged mother's pardon for even bringing up the subject. You see, I knew mother didn't mind giving me a good whipping. I had experienced numerous ones from her, with the last being just 6 months before meeting Julie. Mother was very pleased with the turn around in my attitude. Dr. Johnson, after Julie had two additional babies from Ted, I pretty much had settled down into being the quintessential submissive cuckold husband. I was a loving and caring daddy to our kids. It wasn't in me to be otherwise. Both Ted, Julie, and our families and even my friends praised me for that. I frequently did the babysitting while Ted and Julie go out on dates or out of town. She and I seldom go out as a couple. In fact I have gone out with she and Ted more often than she and I. I am basically their chauffeur on most of these occasions. Our children all have strong facial resemblance to Ted and call him 'Uncle Ted'. Well Dr. Johnson, I didn't intend to write this much as a preface to my story, but at least it has chronologically brought me to time frame of where my story below begins. And as I mentioned earlier, writing seems to have given me another venue to relieve the residual stresses of having to accept my cuckoldry and daily humiliations. I have to admit overall, it's not all that bad. You and mother were pretty much correct, I do accept humiliation very well. After all, Julie and I have been married 9 years, have Ted's 3 kids, and we are still getting along fabulously, with Ted being the real man in our marriage. Julie is a fun person, a good wife, and a great mother to our kids. She also sees me as a friend and helpmate, even if she dominates me and treats me in a servile and lowly manner a great deal of the time. I still love her deeply and work hard to be the kind of good husband she desires me to be. I know now that those are the important things. And as you have repeatedly advised me, not any false pride or my self-worth or my dignity as a man. Dr. Johnson, before moving on to my story, I have to admit, your little creed below, which you have me repeat before each of our session, has indeed given me the strength to push on. "The best role for me is to stay pussy whipped, suck her used pussy joyfully and treat it as a gift, and beat my little dick and stay out of the way of her real man or men." Here's my story: (((((((((((((((((MY STORY BEGINS)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) I was once again on my knees nosily sucking and slurping up the wet drippy cummy mess from between my wife's legs as she gyrated and ground her hairy crotch in my face. As was her custom, she tightly pressed the back of my head to her rotating bush and gash. Finally she got her third orgasm and let go of my head, which was the signal to me to stop mouth vacuuming and licking her well fucked hairy gash. I had already gotten the last of her boss's heavy seminal deposit, but as always, she likes to get off a few times in the process of me having to humiliate myself of cleaning up the very sloppy slimy mess he routinely makes in her cunt. "That was so good. You really know how to make love with your mouth. You think you sucked all his cum out dear?" "I-I did the best I could Julie." "Well, that'll have to do. Well anyway, if you didn't it'll just be another tax deduction for us from him." "SIGH! How well I know. We already have three from him now. But Julie, I-I have to tell you something. A-And you have to do something about it." "What is it honey?" "Y-Your boss T-Ted, he-he's really crossed the line. H-He called me to come over this afternoon a-and, er, he-he made me take his c-cock in my mouth. He did? I think it's good for you to enjoy his dick too. Did you get him off? What! Y-Yes, h-he made me suck on it until he ejaculated. H-He shot so much cum. I-I almost choked, b-but I managed to swallow it all like he told me. His cum was so thick, and s-so hot and slimy." "He's a heavy cummer all right. Well I'm glad you got it all down and didn't choke darling. Anyway, he's called you over before to suck his jism out after he's fucked me. The taste wasn't that much different was it?" "It-It w-was much stronger. "Well that's understandable, with you getting it straight and pure from his dick. Hee! Hee!" "Oh Julie t-that's not funny. B-But Julie, m-more importantly, I-I can't be h-his cocksucker w-whenever he snaps his finger. P-Please! Talk to him. T-There are somethings t-that just have a limit. I-I would try to get him to stop, if-if I thought it would do any good. B-But you know I-I'm not strong enough to-to change his mind." "I know you're not baby, as your mother, my mother, and myself have warned you, you just don't have it in you. You did the right to not fight it, but to give in and go down on him as he desired. That's what's best for you to do. Did he really snap his finger darling?" "Y-Yes, before he intimidated me into doing it for him. H-he was horny a-and told me you weren't around." Yes darling, he sent me across town to be with another important client. Well actually, two of them. They really gave my pussy a good work out. That's whose jism you were eating out earlier. "I-I see. Well Wayne darling, I guess since he's had you do it once, you might as well accept that you'll just have to get use to doing him again when he gets the urge for you to suck him off." "SIGH! I-I guess you're right. I-I wish I-I was strong e-enough to stand up to him." "But you're not honey, so just put the thought out of your mind. He's a real man, and you're just a wimp. Sure, you're also my husband and I love you very much. But I don't want you to get yourself punished like he did once before when he whipped you with that extension cord. Remember?" "H-How could I forget. H-He did it right in front of you. The nerve of him. Just because I resisted sucking your wet used drippy muff the first time he had me come by to watch him have sex with you. It was bad enough he had forced me into sitting and suffering watching him have hot juicy intercourse with you - the man is simply immoral a-and depraved. But then to literally rub my face in it afterwards, was beyond belief." "Wayne darling, that was a long time ago, before our second child. And I thought it was beneficial for you to watch what a real man does with his tool. You got use to to doing that and have watched and cleaned up after him orally countless times since then. I know you learned a lot from seeing a real man in action, didn't you? SIGH! Y-Yes. I-I did. And honey, even though you did cry and jump around a lot as he was whipping you with that cord, you took your beating very well and I remembered that afterwards you really gave my pussy a great sucking even though you were still whimpering and sobbing." "I-I couldn't help jumping and screaming. My bottom was still stinging and burning. He really blistered me. A-And to make matters worse, he made me pay for the lamp he ripped the cord from. It cost over $200." That's right, I remember. That's the lamp in the den isn't it? Y-Yes that's the one. "But Wayne honey, back to my point. I don't want to see you get hurt again. Who knows, he might beat on you with his fists this time." "Y-You think h-he might do that?" "He's quite strong and much bigger than you honey." "I-I guess y-you're right. W-Well I-I don't want that t-to happen." "And neither do I. That's why it's best for you to just go ahead and do what he demands of you. I think you'll do okay sucking his cock and drinking his jism after all we've been through." "SIGH! O-Okay. Y-You do have a point there. He has put us through a lot a-and I have been able to adjust to his antics, even though they have been so outlandish a-and downright despicable." "He's not really that bad, but anyway you have the right attitude now. That's being a good boy. Now honey, the next time you do him, be sure and lick his balls real good. I do that for him all the time when I go down on him. And it wouldn't hurt that after you take his load, slowly milk his dick. And to show further appreciation for his cum, to kiss his ass cheek and thank him for allowing you to suck his dick." "What! D-Do I-I have to?" "Yes darling, you have to. Do it for me honey. Okay?" "SIGH! O-Okay dear. Speaking of that, Julie, y-you think you could give me head sometime, p-please? It-It's bad enough I-I have to wear a rubber the few times when we make love, and I get to put it in. It-t would feel so good to have your soft warm wet flesh around my prick sometime. Y-You do it for him, so it wouldn't be that much trouble for ..." "Wayne! I'm surprised at you! Just because he makes me degrade myself in such a shameless manner, that is no reason for you to demand the same thing of me. I ought to tell your mother on you." "N-No! Please don't do that. I-I'm sorry dear. P-Please forget I-I asked you. Mother would get upset a-and may want to spank me. S-She doesn't think I-I'm to old to get one." "She right, you're not, and your apology accepted darling. Just remember that Ted or the men he passes me around to will be the only ones that I will do such a despicable lewd thing for." Julie said to me as she stood defiantly with both hands on her hips and a very serious angry look in her eyes. "SIGH! I-I'll remember dear. I-I replied sheepishly. That's better. Be sure you do. But Wayne, I really see this as a plus. Ted has always complained that when I was pregnant in my late term, how he missed being able to have sex with me and had to fuck other women. Well now with you becoming his cocksucker, you can be an even better helpmate than before. Ted does want me to have more kids and there is no reason why you can't at least be able to offer your mouth to him as a surrogate to my pussy. No dear, I think it would be so great having you take his semen in my place. K-Knowing him, I-I bet that's what he's also got in mind too. H-He mentioned a few days ago about it being time for us to have another baby. I-I know if-if he's set his mind to it, there's not much I can do about it except get on my knees do what he says to do. That's the attitude I like to see you show Wayne honey, one of full cooperation and harmony. With him being being so-so lascivious and lewd, it wouldn't surprise me if next he wouldn't stoop so low and tell me he wants to fuck me in my ass." "Oh Wayne darling, why that's a wonderful idea. It would be so wonderful of you to get yourself ready to be penetrated and offer yourself to him. That would really please him. It would show him that you really respect him as the real man. And for such a delightful gesture of admiration of his manhood, it can't help but earn you greater respect from him for the good husband you are, as well as signaling to him that you know your place." "I-I was just kidding Julie. N-No way! I-I'm not going... I-I just couldn't take his big thing up my ass." "I bet you could honey. You just need to be stretched a bit. I bet our counselor, Dr. Johnson could help you out. And like I said, he would respect you even more as a good husband. Anyway, you've already had his big thing in your mouth, it can't be that much worse than him fucking you up your rear. Plus, I think you would look so cute getting shagged." "I-I don't think I would feel cute having his big rod stuffed up my rear. B-But I do wish he would s-show me more respect. B-But p-please Julie d-don't give him a-any ideas. P-Please!" (((A TALK WITH DR. Johnson))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) "Why Wayne, I think that's a great idea." Said Dr. Johnson. "Making yourself fuckable for your wife's boss, who's the real man in your marriage, will cause him to think of you in a totally different light. I think you'll find it fun to be able to offer your ass-pussy to him, as well as to other men if you wish to." "SIGH! N-No! P-Please Dr. Johnson, I-I've already humiliated myself s-so much already. I-I just can't see d-digging myself into a-a deeper hole of abject shame." "Wayne, humiliation, self-abasement, and degrading yourself for a good cause is not something you should be ashamed of. It's something you should be proud of. You've done the things you've done for the love of your lovely wife, and to hold your family together. And as we've discussed before, the 3 kids your wife has had by her boss are innocent in the matter and therefore are deserving of the love and doting care you bestow on them as their daddy." "SIGH! Y-You're correct of course Dr. Johnson. Y-You know I do love our children as if they were mine. It-It's not in me to do otherwise. A-And thank you for saying what you did. I-I needed to hear that. Y-You have such a way with words. You really know how to console and uplift me." "I'm glad they comfort you Wayne. Now Wayne, in reference to your improving your rapport with Ted. And especially so, since he is the biological father of your three children. I think your wife is right. That is, of you preparing yourself for his penetration of you, and then offering yourself to him for that purpose." "I-I don't know Dr. Johnson. I was just making a joke with Julie about that subject when she got all serious about it. Now she's got her mom, a-and my mother supporting her too. O-Once my wife, or they, get an idea in their heads, it-it's almost no stopping them from making me do it for them. I-I was hoping you could deter them from insisting that I go though with it. That's the only reason I'm discussing the issue with you." "Wayne, the women are right to make you be serious about this matter. After all, you weren't expecting Ted to have you suck his penis and swallow his semen, were you?" "SIGH! N-No, I-I wasn't." "And by not being trained or accustomed to sucking on an ejaculating and such a large spurting cock, by your own admission, you almost choked. Right?" "SIGH! Y-Yes." "Well, by following this prescription I'm going to give you, and the stretching regime with the dildos that'll be in the kit, you'll be prepared to give Ted a real nice ass-pussy so you can earn the level of respect you seek from him as a good husband. He'll rave about what a good piece of ass you are. And most importantly, your chance of being injured will have been eliminated." Dr. Johnson and I talked for a while longer. She assured me that from the data that Julie and I had given her about the dimensions of Ted's dick, I would easily be able to accommodate him ramming me and using me like a woman. "Wayne, just like you became a skilled cocksucker for Ted from his using your mouth repeatedly, the same will happen from your having repeated bouts of intercourse with him. By the way, having sucked his cock as many times as you have so far, don't you feel closer, or maybe I should say, more bonded to him?" "SIGH! I-I guess so." "And do you feel more positive about him than before, say when he first started imposing himself on your wife and you?" "I-I guess so. H-He's not really that bad a guy, it-it's just him almost enslaving us to his will. H-He's taken advantage of us because h-he's so persuasive a-and assertive. He's really a take charge type guy. My wife Julie, can't stand up to him. A-And I-I thought I could, b-but found o-out I-I couldn't either." "That's nothing to be ashamed of Wayne. He's just a better man in bed with your wife, than you are. He's also smarter and has a natural gift to take charge. You should look at the bright side of things. You and Julie have really benefited from being under his sexual supervision and marital control. Besides having a very sexually satisfied wife, you and her have three beautiful children, even if they are all three red heads, as Ted is, and all have Ted's strong facial resemblance. Where other couples may have been considering divorce after 9 years of marriage due to some type of perceived incompatibilities, you and your wife have stayed the course primarily because of your unassuming personality and devotion to her, and of course her devotion to Ted." "I-I guess you have a point there. As an example, I-I really tried to get Julie to stay on the pill, but no, she was afraid to not do as he ordered her to do.. that is leave herself open and unprotected to being inseminated by him." "Wayne, this is no time to worry about water that has gone down river. I know you did what you could to keep your wife's affection from her boss, but you have to face the fact that he was just more charming, sexier, controlling, and most of all better endowed than your little 4 inches. You did what you could and were lucky that she even stayed with you. He could have possibly caused her to leave you. So you really have him to thank for keeping your marriage intact." All I could do was cringe and blush deep red at Dr. Johnson's words, which I knew to be true. I was beat out by Ted, but yet he didn't take my wife, even if I had to accept the babies he put in her. I also had to admit that while Julie was undeniably his woman, she still stayed and remained an excellent wife to me, and was concerned about my welfare. For that I was indeed grateful. I replied to Dr. Johnson and told her about my thoughts. She replied back. "You are so right about your wife being concerned about you, despite that she was Ted's woman, or some might say his slut and whore - whatever name you choose. However, it's that same devoted concern for you that she has in attempting to persuade you to be a fuckable wussy bitch for her boss. The bottom line, Wayne, she wants you to have a better rapport with Ted and to delight in enjoying his handsome dick, the same as she does." Dr. Johnson then bluntly asked me if sucking Ted's big dick and drinking down his cum was really an unpleasant thing. She demanded the truth and a straight forward answer. I was intimidated by her tone and directness. I knew she would disprove of me waffling or lying. "I-It's not t-that unpleasant. I-I a-am just still e-embarrassed t-that I d-don't have the strength or will power to refuse him." I softly responded hanging my head. "You really don't have to feel that way Wayne. After all, you should see that it's good for you to have a real man in your marriage and for you to be comfortable being humbled the way you have been. Actually, I see the humiliations you have experienced as being very good for you. Not many husbands have the courage to endure such indignities and degradation as well as you have. For that I have to praise you. And, I have to again compliment you on the exceptional job you have done of accepting and adapting to your submissive cuckold role. Even your mom feels that it has been good for you to have a real man in your marriage and for you to be a willing and wimpy helpmate husband to your wife. "And it's no secret that she is extremely proud of you for how you have held up and persevered with all that you have been through. And you know how she feels about Ted. She thinks he's a wonderful person, and adores his manliness, despite how you perceive him. And of course, you're very much aware that she thinks that it is very proper for you to suck his dick and swallow his cum." How could I forget hearing my own mother tell me that because I was a wimp and married to a beautiful woman, that I needed a real man to help me keep her satisfied, and that is the only way I could hold onto her. Mother thought that my marriage, where Ted was our stud, and the real man in the relationship, was a perfect arrangement for me. So she considered it only proper for me to pay some sort of intimate, and sincere homage to him - the alpha male. She sees such homage as naturally evolving to and including me being impaled upon his "nice manly dick" - her very words. Hence, her very strong words of encouragement to offer my self to him as his pussy boy. I didn't know my mother knew such words. Mother is always reminding me that I'm a nice mannered mama's boy and that I don't have what it takes to stand up to a man like Ted. Even though I know she's right, doesn't mean I have to like it. However, I know I have to be realistic too. I also have to admit, I can't help but admire Ted for his strength, good looks, assertiveness and sexual prowess, even if he does severely humiliate, puts me down, keeps me underfoot, and treats me like a doormat. I left Dr. Johnson's office with a renewed sense of who and what I was. After taking an assessment of my situation, I had to conclude that my wife is a beautiful woman and she apparently loves me a great deal, despite I'm her pussy whipped wimp husband. We have three wonderful and beautiful kids, thanks to Ted. And also thanks to him, none of them look like me. Mother thinks that's a plus. However, as Dr. Johnson reminded me, my marriage is intact, and unlike a lot of couples, Julie and I have a very harmonious 9 year marriage, in spite of, or maybe because of us being under the subjugation and control of Ted. Well, as far as things go for me, it looks like I'll have to continue to be an accepting and adapting cuckold, that will be sucking up the leavings of Ted and other men he loans my wife out to, as well being his cocksucker and fuckable pussy boy, as well as the daddy of his kids. Julie has hinted that Ted isn't through with her having babies yet. And she has even mentioned on several occasions that Ted will help me find a second or part time job to take care of the extra mouths he'll be putting in our family. And since my wife is usually so busy taking care of Ted's needs, I'll have to continue beating my meat when she doesn't have time for me, which is most of the time. EPILOGUE BY THE PHANTOMVILLE COLLECTOR: I acquired more of Dr. Johnson's notes on her patient who wrote the story above. They were from recent sessions some years after the time frame of his story. From those notes I was able to determine that: -His wife Julie - had delivered 3 more babies by Ted her boss, which brought she and Wayne's family to a total of 6 kids. -It also appeared that Wayne had not only became a frequent oral recipient of Ted's dick and jism, but also became Ted's fuckable pussy boy when Julie was late in term with babies #4, #5 & #6. As a result of all this oral and anal sex with Ted, the two became even closer, and Wayne ultimately came to accept Ted as his 'real man' too. -Wayne revealed to Dr. Johnson that he eventually became thrilled to be summoned to service Ted's large rigid throbbing dick, as well as to receive generous loads of his hot sticky creamy cum. -Ted, just as he does with Julie, also loans and rents Wayne out to certain business clients who desire a submissive pantywaist for sexual companionship. Wayne confessed to Dr. Johnson that he doesn't mind being used by the men to appease their lusty hard dicks. -Julie is simply thrilled at how well Ted and Wayne are getting along. #END#

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c October 2002 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form or sold for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(FemDom, M+/F, MM, MF, Inter, cons, MDom) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is another of my very early FemDom pieces I've cleaned up to post. As with this one, if I release more of these old FemDom/Feminization tales of mine, I will include "(FD/F)" in the title so readers will be able to distinguish them from my usual cuckold themes (if this is not their cup of tea). Enjoy! Title: RUNAWAY HUSBAND (FD/F) Author: C.D.E. CAST: WIFE: MARY ERNEST: Mary's black lover/pimp HUSBAND:ETHAN/ETHEL MARRIAGE COUNSELOR: DR. DOWNMEN ETHAN'S FATHER:SIDNEY (Sid) Ethan ran away eight months ago after he discovered his wife of five years was sneaking around with a black dude named Ernest. She wanted him to live with the arrangement because she told him that Ernest sexed her and made her feel like the woman of her dreams. In other words, she went black and her husband would have to live her decision. The time away from his wife was hell for Ethan. he thought of her almost daily. he recognized he was still deeply in love with her despite her adultery and love for a black man. His mother-in-law, as well as his own mother begged him not to run away from the problem but to stay and accept the situation and come to some sort of an arrangement with his adulterous wife and her black lover. Ethan came back to town hoping to make contact with his errant wife to see what they might work out. He went to his parent's home. His parent's were glad to see him return. He unpacked and moved into his old room. His father greeted him, but kept quiet like he usually does and lets his wife do most of the talking. His mother was always protective of and pampered him. He was a mama's boy at heart. At dinner that night, his mother-in-law came over and between her and his mother, he'd learned the two of them had already arranged for him to meet with a marriage counselor to get him on the road to reunite with his estranged spouse. Secretly, he'd hoped for something like this, but pretended to abhor them doing what they'd done. He went to the marriage counselor the next day. her name was Dr. Downmen. "Ethan, I have to agree with your family, you should've stayed and tried to work an arrangement such that you could share your wife with her black lover. This is not as uncommon as you might think." Ethan listen as Dr. Downmen discussed his case based on the facts she'd gotten from him as well as from contacting his estranged wife. "Ethan, your wife really didn't want you to leave, but to accept the arrangement so that she could fulfill her needs. She still had a special love for you. However, she understood why you left. She and Ernest Richardson are living in the house. She indicated that Ernest doesn't mind her working out an arrangement for sharing her with you and even having you move back in, but there has to be certain conditions. She didn't tell me what those conditions were when we talked. The question Ethan is, are you interested in talking to her?" "Y-yes Doctor, I-I am." "Well Ethan, I'll need to set it up, and it's best if it's done in my offices. However, I must get you ready for this meeting through a series of counseling sessions. You'll be finding out a few things about your wife over the next few days prior to the meeting. I don't want you to get upset and not try to contact her but wait until the meeting I'll set up which will be in about two weeks." "Why so long Dr. Downmen?" "You need the time to understand your potentially new role as well as how to accept and adjust to what you'll be getting into in such an arrangement." CHAPTER 2 Ethan reported to his second session with Dr. Downmen. She gave him a battery of psychological tests and discussed the results with him. "Ethan, your test results all indicate you have a high potential for adapting to the kind of arrangement needed for the three of you to get along harmoniously. You're not the pushy type. You like structure and order. You're more of a follower than a leader, and lets see, hmmm ... you like bright colors but tend to shun them. Do you know why that is or were you aware of that?" Ethan blushed slightly and explained that bright pastels were often associated with feminine attire, so he tended to avoid them. "Interesting ... however, Ethan, I don't want you to have such hang-ups in the future. Feel free to wear or decorate with any lively colors you might adore." Ethan nodded affirmatively. "Now Ethan, I must tell you that it will take being a bit more submissive than you've had to be before in your marriage, if this new arrangement is to take place. You see, you'll probably even feel more naturally submissive around your wife and Ernest. This is goodness. Here, I asked them to take some pictures and make a video of them having sex. Here, let's watch." Ethane's anxiety ran high as the counselor slipped the video in the VCR. Ethan gasped loudly at the size of Ernest's giant black erection and then repeated it as he saw his wife suckle the head of the golf ball size bloated shiny cockhead, and then take a few inches of the eight incher in her mouth. After a few moments of that he watched as Ernest creamed between her lips with some of the obviously abundant load running out of the corners of her mouth, which she licked up with her tongue and winked at the camera as she did so. Ernest was still rigid. Aghast, Ethan next saw his beautiful wife take the giant fuck tool in her lush hairy gash with no resistance at all and virtually swallowed it all in except for an inch or so. "Do you have an erection Ethan?" Dr. Downmen's voice broke Ethane's concentration. "Uh, o-oh no." He said defensively, realizing for the first time that he indeed did have an involuntary hard-on at seeing his wife in bed with this hung black men. "Are you sure? here let me see." Dr. Downmen reached over and placed her hand on his crotch before he knew it and found his much smaller four incher. She continued to hold it through the fabric of his pants and spoke to him sternly to be quiet and watch the rest of the video. He'd never heard her speak in such a tone. It subdued and cowed him. He was embarrassed at having been caught in a lie, but also that she knew that he was erect at seeing his wife and another man. Ethan couldn't help but be awed at the love making his wife and her black lover demonstrated. he knew what he saw was beyond his capabilities. The more he watched the more he was worried about coming in his pants, especially with the doctor's hands on his aching prick. He begged her to stop the video. She did. "Ethan, this video produced some excellent results. It's good you got an erection. There's nothing to be ashamed of. It's normal and natural. By the way, take your penis out and masturbate? Here's some tissue. I need to examine your genitals anyway as well see how much ejaculate you output." Shocked at such actions by the counselor, Ethan just sat unbelieving what he was hearing. What happened next surprised him even more. Before he realized it, the counselor sprayed a mist in his face. The effects were evident in seconds. He felt more relaxed. "Don't fret Ethan, this is just something to help you be more compliant. Just sit there a moment. You'll be fully conscious of what you're doing, but this will aid you in doing what I desire of you to get all the results to help you. Now stand up, unbuckled your pants and let them drop to the floor. That's it. Now push your shorts down to your ankles also." Almost as in a dream, Ethan found himself doing as he was told in a robotic fashion. He had no will to resist. "Very good." She said as she measured his very erect prick. "Three and three quarters inches. Okay sit down. Now take the tissues .. that's it. Now I'm going to restart the video and I want you to stroke yourself when you normally jerk off and let your self reach an orgasm when you wish to. I want you to catch all of your cum with the tissue and let me see it. Understand?" He nodded mechanically, still with no will to do otherwise. Two minutes later he was in the throes of shooting his load into the wad of tissues, and as ordered he immediately held it out for Dr. Downmen to observe. After writing down a description of the amount of his ejaculate, she asked him several questions while he was still in this twilight compliant state. "Do you like jerking off?" he replied yes. "Do you get more pleasure out of pleasing yourself with your hands than trying to satisfy yourself and your wife with your penis?" Again the answer was yes. "If you had your preference, would you perform oral sex on your wife or have normal intercourse most of the time?" He weakly and softly replied that he liked "sucking pussy" better. She next put a box in front of him. There were four pairs of differently colored panties, each heavily trimmed in lace. She asked him to pick the color that most matched his favorite secret color. When he seemed like he couldn't make up his mind, she asked him about his indecision. "I-I can't decide between the lavender a-and the p-pink ones. I- I like them both." He was trying to fight the drug, but it was no use. Tears swelled in his eyes. She urged him to take both and told him he could have them. "You like women's clothes but are afraid to admit it, aren't you." It took a little longer, but he again answered yes. Dr. Downmen knew the drug was losing some effect, but she wanted to try one last thing. "Would you like to try on your new pink panties?" Ethan slowly looked at them and nodded his head. "Then do it Ethan dear, you're free to do that without shame here." He slowly did. The doctor had him keep them on and redress so that he could wear them from the office. "Well Ethan, this session has been extremely fruitful. The drug is almost wearing off. But remember this drug didn't make you do anything that you really didn't feel comfortable in doing. So there's no use in denying what you said and did was due to the drug. And now this last test is the final bit of information I need for you, as well as a reward if you wish to participate. After all, you've shown me your genitals, now it's only natural you get a chance to see me." As she spoke she hiked her skirt up and removed her panties to expose her dense bushy cunt. She next sat at her desk chair and spread both of her shapely legs on the arms of the executive chair, presenting a sensuous expanse of white fleshy thighs that led to her delectable looking pussy. Even though the drug had virtually worn off, Ethan had no real will to decline the doctor's invitation. he hadn't sucked a pussy in eight months. he was hungry. The good doctor fed him well as she held his head to her moist crotch for two very rousing orgasms. After the session, Ethan was a different person. He felt closer to Dr. Downmen, yet it was hard to look her in the face, especially since he was wearing pink panties and with another lavender pair in his pocket. She asked him to wear them to see if they reduced his anxiety of meeting his wife. She directed him to wear the lavender pair back to the next session and asked him if he was interested in her getting him other similar items to better relax him and aid him in having sex with his self. Blushing a deep red, he nodded affirmatively. Ethan was also very pleased when Dr. Downmen rated him highly on his pussy sucking. "Ethan, with you being a healthy adult with a hearty appetite for sucking pussy, you shouldn't go for such a long period time, as you have, without doing so. Since you're trying to get back with your wife, it might be a good idea to have someone feed you pussy in the interim who understands your situation. Hmmm, what about your mom or mom-in-law? I'm sure they'd understand and be willing to help if you asked. In fact, from their talking with your wife, they knew how much you loved to suck. I bet you'd like to suck your mommie's pussy anyway, wouldn't you?" Again Ethan was excited and yet terrified at the thought of asking either woman. The doctor encouraged him not to be afraid to do so. Before he left, she talked over a few things they would be discussion at their next session. CHAPTER 3 Two days after the session with Dr. Downmen, Ethan began to hear things about his estranged wife. Apparently, she was sleeping around with more black men other than Ernest. Despondent that all he was going through might be for naught, he had a talk with his mother. "Dear she still loves you, you don't have a thing to worry about. When the time comes for you two to talk things over, it'll all work out. Don't worry about a thing Ethan dear. By the way sweetie, is there something you want to ask me?" "Er, about what mother?" "Well dear, Dr. Downmen called me and Mary's mother to see if you asked us for any help in keeping your nerves from getting frayed and getting an anxiety attack. She wouldn't say what it was you might ask, only that we keep it a secret between the four of us and that we be understanding whether we could felt we could help you or not because of our moral convictions or stuff like that. I assured her that short of killing someone, I would do whatever I could to help my baby out. And Mary's mom is on her way over here right now. She too feels the same way about you too. She too swore to secrecy on this, whatever it is." Just then, the doorbell rang. It was Ethane's mother-in-law. Ethan knew it would be hard enough for him to ask his mom to do what the doctor said he should do if he needed to feed his special appetite. Now he knew it'd be impossible with both of the women he respected so much in the same room at the same time. The two were doggedly persistent in trying to get him to talk. It was his mother-in-law that opened him up with accounts that her daughter had told her about Ethan. How he seemed to enjoy eating pussy more than fucking it, as well as having caught him jerking off several times. All of which contributed to her going out to find her a real man like Ernest. His mother left the room and returned wearing only an open robe. her white fleshy thighs were accentuated by her dense extremely hairy bush. The sight of her was like water to a thirsty man. "Look at him, it must be he needs to eat some pussy. Since Mary said he really liked doing that." Said his mother-in-law without any reservations or inhibitions. "Why didn't you say so baby? There's no need for you to be suffering. Of course you can suck mommie's pussy. Watch the door for us. If Sid come in early, just tell him to go somewhere, me and my baby are having a mother son talk." His mother said to Mary's mom. About forty-five minutes later and three good orgasms for his mom and a tired tongue for Ethan, mother and son emerged from the bedroom. "My baby's pretty good at this, but he was hungry. To be sure he gets all he needs, you take him home with you and feed him some more. His father will be home soon." Ethane's mother-in-law drove him over to her house and served him up her own personal dish of hair pie, as his mother had earlier. She too very much enjoyed feeding him her pussy also. As she straddled his face and had him pinned down with her hairy mossy muff. She was facing his feet as she gyrated her crotch over his sucking wiggling tongue and sucking lips. He struggled to try and prevent from opening his trousers, but she had him pinned down too well. She giggled as she discovered why he was trying to prevent her from opening his fly. She proceeded anyway and soon had his small throbbing prick out and slowly jerked him off as he ate her out so deliciously. Her daughter had told her what a good sucker he was. She had to concur with her on that as well as that he was wholly inadequate to give her what she needed in the way of cock. Later, after almost two hours of pussy eating, his mother-in-law cooked and served him real food. They freely talked about the experience she and he, as well as his mom had just shared. He always had a lot of respect for his wife's mother, now he felt so much closer to her and his mom. As they were enjoying coffee and talking, Ethane's mom came over. She had called earlier but his mother-in-law only told Ethan that his mother was coming over to bring him some dessert. As soon as she walked in she asked him and then Mary's mother if she thought he had enough pussy to eat such that he wouldn't have an anxiety attack about meeting his wife in a few days. Ethan blushed and nodded affirmatively at his mom's direct and unabashed inquiry. His mother-in-law on the other hand indicated that he apparently was starved for pussy juice, so she didn't see anything wrong with him eating some more juicy gash before bed. His mother agreed and revealed she'd been out getting a friend to help make a special sauce for her cunt just for him. Ethane's tongue was a little tired, but he did relish the idea of another session of muff diving. Before his mom went in one of the bedrooms to prepare her self, she handed Mary's mom a little bottle. Who then shook it up and placed two drops on a puzzled looking Ethane's upper lip. "This will dull your sense of smell and enable you to concentrate on tasting the flavor of the special sauce your mom has prepared for you. She then sent him to be with her. As Mary's mom watched TV to drown out the moans of pleasure that were emanating from the bedroom, she began to play with herself thinking of how thrilling it was to be helping out in the subjugation of her mollycoddled son-in-law. Moments later she heard a car pulled up out front. She was more than glad to see it was one of her black men friends who liked to drop by for a quickie from time to time. This was definitely the time he could benefit them both. Her friend was on his way to work and didn't have more than a half-hour to spare. In almost thirty minutes to the second he was leaving, however, he'd left behind a load of his sticky hot jism in her tummy and another deep in her cunt. As she felt the gunk starting to leak out of her, she got a wicked idea and found a tampon to keep it in her as she returned to watching TV. A half-hour later, a tired, but a very satisfied Ethan emerged from the bedroom and sat on the couch beside Mary's mom. "Ethan likes my special sauce so well he wants more." His mom reported. "Great! I thought he might like it, being the good little sucker he is." Mary's mom replied. Ethan was still inquiring what the sauce was made of. he was assured it was all natural ingredients and full of protein. Ethane's mom, who still nude underneath one of Mary's mom's thin robes, pulled her son over for a deep French kiss and guided his hands to one of her big tits. "Now Ethan dear, whenever you feel the need to be with either of us, all you need to do is asked. Understand?" His face was flushed red as he tried to mutter a reply. He was still not accustomed to talking with these two women about such an intimate topic. "Now baby, do you need to jack off again? We'd love to watch you." "O-Oh no!" Ethan blurted out quickly and nervously as her question and statement caught him off guard. "I did him earlier as he was slurping on me. You're only good for about one shot a day aren't you Ethan?" As he was slow to respond, again being dumfounded by the suddenness of the question, his mother spoke. "Ethan, there's no reason to be embarrassed. You have to be realistic and not be embarrassed. Here let mommie give you another hug. Feel better now?" He shook his head acknowledging he did and told his mother-in-law that she was correct. "As your mom said, that's nothing to be embarrassed about, you more than make up for it with your sweet tongue." Ethan smiled and liked the constant reassurance the women poured on him about his talent for giving good head as they talked about the experiences of the day once again. "Ethan, I almost forgot, why don't you show your mom the pretty panties you're wearing." "Ethan almost wanted to crawl under the sofa at his mother-in- law's revelation. "I-I t-thought, t-that was o-our secret." He stammered. "I lied. I only did that to make you feel comfortable so you could enjoy your dinner, besides you shouldn't keep such a delightful thing from your mother." "She's quite right sweetie. A mother should know if her son like to wears panties. Let me see them. Are they like the pink ones I found in your secret hiding place in your room at home?" Hit with a double whammy of exposed secrets, Ethan was in no condition to resist doing as the women wanted of him. Soon he was standing before the two of them in the beautifully lavishly lace adorned panties. As he modeled them he slowly told of how and why Dr. Downmen recommended he wear them, including that she might be getting him more articles. The more he pranced around at their insistence, the more comfortable he felt before them in his pretty panties. Moments later, Mary's mother brought out some of her feminine undies. Soon Ethan was dressed in a white garter belts and pink nylons with a matching pink lacy camisole. He was given a lacy pink robe. He and the two women were all in similar attire as they sat and talked. Ethan told them everything about his latest session with Dr. Downmen and was surprised at how at ease he was in talking about all that occurred. The women commended him for telling them everything and each kissed him. The three finally got around to discussing the meeting that was soon to take place with his estranged wife. "Ethan sweetie, based on all you've told me, I really think you're in a much better state of mind to meet any conditions upon which Mary, er, I mean Mary and Ernest, might accept you back in their relationship." His mother said in a sincere tone. "I definitely agree with you. Especially after hearing you say that you know you can't compete with Ernest on a man to man basis after seeing the video. To admit he's the better man and to face the reality of your inadequacies shows maturity and wisdom." Ethane's mom concurred with Mary's mom and placed another kiss on her "Baby" for being so wise in confronting and admitting his shortcomings. "Ethan, I know Dr. Downmen indicated you all were going to talk more about submissiveness next session, but seeing you sit here so confidently, and having already indicated that Ernest is no doubt the real man in Mary's life, I don't see where you're going to have one bit of a problem being subservient to them if they permit you in their relationship." Spoke his mom. "And with you willing to wear women's clothes in his presence, I know you won't have any problems with him thinking you're competing with him as man of the house." "Oh no, I-I wouldn't want him to think that, b-but you t-think h- he'll want me to wear d-dresses a-and ..." In responding to his mother-in-law's comment, she cut him off before he could stammer out his reply. "And whatever else is necessary they think you should wear." "And do too sweetie." His mother said adding to Mary's mother's comment. "You see baby, you've got to prove yourself and show them, especially Ernest, that you deserve to be a part of their relationship, even though Mary has feelings for you and even though you're still her husband." After some more discussion on this aspect of getting back together with his wife, Ethan assured the women he was resolved to give it his best effort to convince his wife and her black lover that he was deserving of trying to fit in where he had turned them down eight months ago. Both women kissed and hugged him again and praised him for his resolve. "Ethan dear, you mentioned earlier that Dr. Downmen let you know that it was remote that Mary or Earnest would be interested in you having normal intercourse with her again. Yet, you know Mary will require you to be devoted and faithful to her still. You understand what that means don't you?" "Y-Yes. T-That I'll have to masturbate for relief." He replied to his mother. "That's right baby. And that shouldn't be a problem since you like jacking off better than trying to sex her anyway, right?" "Y-Yes ma'am, y-you're right." He replied meekly as he thought of Ernest knowing he had to jerk off while Ernest pleasured his big cock in his wife. Then he remembered what Dr. Downmen told him about negative thoughts of comparing himself with Ernest, instead of accepting the fact that Ernest is the superior man. She'd told him it was far more constructive use of his time to think of ways to pay homage and build a rapport as a servant would to a master. He congratulated himself on pushing the negative thought out of his mind and concentrated on what his mother was saying. "Now sweetie, you do know, as her husband, she'll be expecting you to eat her pussy, even though you won't be putting your little thing in her." "Y-Yes." "Now that takes care of your needs and her needs. You'll jack off and suck her cunt. Now you have to think about Ernest in this equation. He might feel slighted as the real man of the house. He might think sucking her cunt is too much of a privilege for you, especially since it's like a primary way of you having sex anyway with women." "Y-You think h-he might r-really object to me ..." "A good possibility Ethan, unless you can enhance his pride versus possibly bruising it." Mary's mother interjected. "B-but what can I-I do to boost his pride?" "Sweetie you mentioned when you saw the video how much cum he shot off ... and how he flooded her mouth and cunt and how she had cum dripping down on her tits." "Y-Yes I-I did." "Then what better way to boost a man like Ernest's pride than to offer to tongue clean his semen off and out of Mary. At the same time you could kiss her cum flooded lips, suck her lovely tits, and of course feast on her lush pussy, the real object of your desire." His mother said smiling broadly. "And Mary would have nothing but the greatest respect and a higher esteem for you." Mary's mother added. "I-I don't k-know ... I-I've never ate a-another man's s-stuff." "Guess what you ate earlier dear? That is, out of my pussy? That's why I had to kill you sense of smell." Ethan couldn't believe that spent cum could taste that good. Finding it hard to believe that he'd already eaten a man's jism and liked it. He asked if it was his dad's cum. His mother quickly explained. "Oh no dear. Since you'll be facing a much more virile man, your father and I got a black friend of ours to screw me this evening just so I could break you in. I don't think you'd found a white man's cum as tasty dear." Ethan still expressed disbelief at his mother's story. This is what Mary's mother had been waiting on. An opportunity to have her son-in-law feast on the load she still had warmly trapped in her cunt. She explained what'd happened while he and his mom were in the bedroom earlier in the evening. As she spoke she laid back, spread her legs, and dared him to taste the contents held back the tampon she'd put in. His mother urged him on. Finding the entire situation strange, bizarre, and even a bit disgusting, nevertheless, Ethan proceeded to do as his mother urged. She cautioned him about the strong gamy smell of a fucked pussy combined with the odor of spent semen. He found she was right about the reek of the smell, especially since his mother-in-law had kept it the man's stuff in her for almost an hour. Ethan found the emanating odor strong and strange, but yet not unpleasant. To get on with the test, he quickly pulled the tampon away immediately saw the same milky colored sauce he'd lapped up earlier in the evening. As the frothy goo oozed out her hairy heated gash, he stuck the tip of his tongue in the in the oozing stream. In a split second, he recognized the same general taste. He lapped up more the second time and knew that there was no doubt. As he looked up at his smiling mother-in-law, she could read his face. "No need to worry about humble pie now dear, you've got a creampie to eat." She said as she pulled his head forward closer to her hairy gash as she scooted her crotch up closer to his face. Smell or no smell, Ethan was sucking noisily as he vacuumed his mother-in-law of all the aged gloppy pussy fuck goo. Ethane's mother sat back with a very satisfied broad smile on her face. She loved being an active participant in the subjugation of timid weak willed males, irrespective of whether the subject was her son or not. To some extent, that made the experience more special, especially since she was convinced this was best for him. CHAPTER 4 "Father, mom told me what you two did for me ... a-and I-I am grateful. Y-You'll have to forgive me for being nervous ... b-but s-so much has happened in such a few days." "I understand son ... and there's no need to thank us. We both want your happiness and the re-establishment of your marriage." "Dad I-I'm still embarrassed that everyone knows I like eating, er, I mean the taste of another m-man's ..." "You don't have to be nervous or embarrassed to talk about this with me son. To relieve your apprehension, as your mother told you, it's not uncommon for some white males to have a fondness for the taste of black men's spent lusty leavings. Don't think of your taste for it as unusual, but rather a gift. In this situation, where you're attempting to get your marriage back together, it indeed is a gift as well as a blessing. And by the way son, if it helps, your mother introduced me to that wonderful fuck goo about fifthteen years ago. So I fully understand better than you think." As Ethan learned of this new revelation, he was shocked, but felt better about his own situation. Ethan had many questions of his father who gave him candid answers and advice. "So son, the counselor and others may call it negotiations with your wife and her black lover, but you should be prepared to capitulate to whatever terms she and/or he may impose if you truly wish to stay in her life. Just as your mother and mother-in-law were trying to tell you, pleasing your wife's black stud is as important as pleasing her, because she will do virtually anything he asks of her." Ethan listened intently as his father continued to provide him counsel. Ethan was pleased to learn that his father too was fond of feminine attire and even had wore it from time to time. He was also thrilled to learn that his father had been made to dress in drag by Ethane's mom and watch her have sex with one of her black men friends. "It was a birthday gift to the man from your mother. The man loved it, because it greatly appeased his ego. I had to keep her clean between bouts of sex she had with him. So son, the bottomline is, be prepared to do what is necessary to keep the woman you love and hold your marriage together. As you know we can't compete with those black dicks, so we have to do the best we can in other ways. It'll be easy to do if you consider yourself as the one married and not the other way around." His father said as he looked Ethan in the eyes and spoke seriously. "T-Thanks father, I'll remember." "Another thing son, you may not have to do this anytime soon, but you must be prepared to do it when asked or the opportunity presents itself. You must do it to demonstrate your devotion to your wife and her real man or men." When Ethane's father told him what it was he was referring too, Ethan thought for a moment and calmly asked his father had he done it before. "Yes son, I've sucked the dicks of all your mother's black men friends over the years. The men will let you know when they want you to do this. In a way, it's their way of letting you know you've gained their trust. Think of it as their way of bonding with you. This is important and a significant point in your marital arrangement. And just as with sucking loaded cunts, you'll like fresh hot jism. Also, just as with eating cum out of pussies, you must not think of this as humiliating or perverted, but as a necessary part of your marital conjugal duties." CHAPTER 5 "Well Ethan, in a half hour you meet your wife for the meeting for which you've been undergoing preparation these last few weeks, how do you feel?" "A-A little nervous." He replied to Dr. Downmen. "That's understandable, but I know you're going to do fine, especially since you've come to this meeting with no pre-conditions and basically have indicated you'll accept almost any conditions or terms she and Ernest wish to impose. "My family and I have talked it over, and decided that it was best to do it this way." "I tell you Ethan, you are blessed to have such wonderful family support. It has made my job so much easier as well as helped you see thing more clearly than you did eight months ago." Ethan acknowledged that it had. "Let me again compliment on your attire for this meeting. It's excellent. It definitely shows you're unpretentious about your masculinity. This will make an excellent first impression on your wife. It will let her know that you are serious about not wanting anyone to think you are competing with Ernest. Rather, you accept him as the man of the house and that you hope to fit in where they want you to." Ethan was wearing a pink woman's pant's suit, a lacy sheer pink blouse with a ruffled front. The bright pink pants he wore didn't have the tell tale fly in front. The white open toe feminine sandals showed his painted toenail, which sported a bright pink shade of nail polish, which matched the nail shade on his hands and the lip gloss he wore. The sheer pink stockings he wore, only visible on his feet, nevertheless complimented the contrast of the whiteness of the sandals and the brightness of the nail polish as well as gave his feet a smooth wonderfully feminine appearance. It was his mother's idea for him to come to the meeting in drag. She called it a good faith indication on his part to let his wife and her black lover visibly know that he was a changed person. The time had arrived. Dr. Downmen's assistant buzzed her to indicate that Ethane's wife Mary was in the meeting room down the hall. Nervously Ethan followed Dr. Downmen to the room. Before the doctor could introduce them to each other, Ethan and his wife were embracing. Dr. Downmen said a few words and left them to their discussion. "Mary, y-you look beautiful." "So do you Ethan honey. You look good in pink. Dr. Downmen has kept me informed of your visits and assures me you don't have the same hang-ups as you did eight months ago. You sure you aren't fooling her?" Ethan assured his wife that he indeed seen the light and was ready to be a part of she and Ernest's life and relationship arrangement. "Now honey, I do have a special love for you, but you have to know up front, Ernest comes first. Whatever time I have left over from when he needs me, or doing what he wants me to do, then I'll share with you ... of course depending on how I'm feeling. Understand." "Y-Yes Mary, I-I understand darling." "Have you heard Ernest pimps me out sometimes?" "Yes darling, I-I've heard you sleep with other men occasionally for money, but ..." "I'm a whore. A street whore Ethan, you think you can handle that?" His wife said looking him point blank in the face. "Y-Yes I can Mary. T-This time away from you and what I-I've been through the last few weeks have made me realize that my love for you is special too. I-I'm no longer under the mythical disillusion I was under before. I realize now that I wasn't man enough to give you what you needed. Now, I-I just want to be near you ... a-and fit in, o-or accept w-whatever terms you and Ernest give me." "You sound convincing, but here are some questions that Ernest wanted me to ask you. Ready?" "Yes darling, I-I am." Ethan spoke nervously as he took a deep breath and exhaled to calm his nerves. "First question ... Do you consider yourself a man in your wife's eyes?" "N-No." Ethan replied softly. "Well you passed that one. Next question ... would you object to being called any of the following: wimp, fairy, pansy, sissy, faggot?" "N-No, I-I wouldn't object." He spoke softly hanging his head. "Good. Last question ... do you have any problems obeying Ernest, no matter what tasks he directs you to do?" "Oh no, I-I'll do as I'm told." "Very good Ethan dear. Since you got all the answers right, Ernest sent you a little piece offering to welcome you back in our lives." Mary stood up as she spoke and hiked up the short mini skirt she was wearing. She wore a tie on thong, which came off quickly to reveal her thick furry bush. Ethane's heart and prick jumped at the sight of her pussy. "Ernest sent you a load of his jism. Just pull the pussy plug to get your gift sweetie." She said gleefully as she scooted her cunt to the edge of the big conference room chair she was in. Ethan dived headfirst, pulled the plug, and was nosily slurping her pussy. It amazed even her how fast he was devouring her pussy fuck scum. As she closed her eyes, the reality of having an enslaved husband dawned on her and it sent more thrills up her spine as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the sensations and noise of her sissified husband slurping out her real man's cum. CHAPTER 6 It had been two months since Ethan, now going by his sissy alias of Ethel, had been home for a visit. Ernest and Mary were going on a week's cruise, so they sent him home so his mother could watch over him while they were gone. "Deary, you look so radiant and cute. I can tell your new lifestyle has been good for you. Now do you see why your wife wanted a real man around the house for you and her?" Spoke Ethel's mother as she greeted her sissified son in full drag. "Yes I do. It's better than I ever imagined mother. The more I'm around him, I see why Mary loves and adores him so." "Does it bother you son that you and Mary don't see each often, that is since she's on the streets at night and you're working during the day?" "I'd like to see her more often, but you know we both have our jobs, which are necessary to be sure Mr. Ernest gets his money. However, when she does come in, usually late at night, he or she wakes me up to clean his cum from her. So what time we spend together is very quality time." "Dear, do you always address him as mister?" "Oh yes mother. That's one of their rules. I also have to say sir to him also. It doesn't bother me. Anyway, it just seems right to show him such respect. After all he is the man of the house." "How do you like your new part time job Ernest got you as a public toilet cleaning maid?" "I was a little disappointed at first, even though I get to dress as a woman when I work there in the evenings. However, after I saw the pride and pleasure Mr. Ernest got from telling his buddies how he had me working in drag cleaning public toilets, I felt better. It was strange, but I really like seeing him happy, as he boasts about things like that. Mary expressed the same thing to me about her whoring for him. She gets thrilled at him telling people she's his " White Ho"." "Does it bother you dear?" His mother asked. "Oh no, in fact, I find it exciting that she's a whore for black men. I'm proud to be her husband. It's like being married to a celebrity. It really makes me feel good to hear men say what a good piece of ass she is and that just about every black dick in town has been in her." "If more husbands were as proud of their wives as you are son, the divorce rate would be so much lower." His father mused. "You're so right dear." Ethel's mom replied to her husband Sid. "I'm proud of both you and Mary, and the changes you both made in your lives. Isn't your marriage much better than that staid relationship you had before?" "Oh yes mother, much better. It seems now that everything is orderly and structured. Ernest and Mary make the rules and I follow them. In addition, I don't have to worry about trying to be the man I'm not. My wife respects me for what I am, and I feel so comfortable, competent and confident in doing it. Whenever I suck her pussy, she can count on me to deliver. That really makes me feel good." "You forgot to mention you pleasing yourself without feeling guilty or ashamed too." "Yes father, you're so right. Jacking off is so peaceful when you do it without feeling shame or guilt. Knowing that Mary knows I jack off has made my life so much more contented." "By the way Ethel my dear, I want to get a picture of you and your father jerking each other off tonight." Spoke his mother cheerfully. Both men readily agreed and just like the two pansies they'd been made into by the women in their lives, the two began a serious discussion on what they were going to wear while being photographed beating each others meat. Ethel's mother just listened at them and happily hummed as she went about what she was doing. It pleased her exceedingly that she had both her husband and son thoroughly and irrevocably subjugated in servitude to dominant women and black dicks. ### END ### Comments? Contact CDE at [email protected] All my stories are archived at www.asstr.org. Click on "Authors", then click on "C.D.E.", then click "FTP".

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright October 2006 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form or sold for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content: MC, Cuckold, Cum Eat, FemDom, Mdom, MMM+F, MM, IR WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE AUTHOR'S NOTES: 1-I plan to write other stories in this series about the fictional city of Phantomville. 2-Many thanks to an avid fan Sp08 - whose e-mails gave me the inspiration to undertake this project. In addition, many thanks for performing a review and proof reading efforts also. 3-If the reader is offended by Bukkake like action, then it is advised that you not read the last half of this story with Cum Eating in the chapter title. Story Content: MC, Cuckold, Cum Eat, FemDom, Mdom, MMM+F, MM, IR Title: Phantomville #1 - The Story of Donald & Dawn Author: C.D.E. CAST: Donald Woods Helton Dawn Helton Dr. Judy Relationship & Marriage Counselor The Woods Donald's Parents In the town of Phantomville, a city that exits in our state of mind, and located somewhere in the world of our collective imaginations, Donald Helton stood at the sink busily washing the pile of dishes that the weekly Helton Family Sunday dinner generated. Other Helton women members were also assisting in the kitchen clean up, including his mother-in-law Hazel Helton, whose house was where the weekly feast occurred. He was the only male in the kitchen. He wore a pink and lavender old fashioned long length lacy pinafore, that his mom-in-law kept especially for him. Like a lot of things in his marriage, he initially had concerns about being made to wear the effeminate item, but over time accepted and adapted to what his wife and in-laws desired of him. Donald was married to Hazel and Hank Helton's daughter Dawn. They have been married now for 9 years and have 4 children. Donald's name was Woods before the marriage, but took on the Helton's family name when he married Dawn. Donald's dad gave his son away to Dawn at the nuptial ceremony, while his mother looked on with tears of joy in her eyes. It was also Donald that wore a white wedding gown. This was very fitting since he was the virgin, not Dawn, his bride to be. Dawn on the other hand was waiting at the altar with her best men. Yes, it was a group of her regular and steady fuck buddies her 5 best studs. Yes, there were 5 of them. They were all over 6 feet and brawny and muscular and handsome built just like her dad, Hank. The groom on the other hand was of slight build and did not exhibit the macho charisma that Dawn was almost always attracted to and made her cunt juicy wet, even drippy. However, after her pussy was thoroughly made gloppy and sloppy by her macho men, she then was very attracted to Donald to give her twat the tingle she got from his tongue douching that no macho man could or ever would give her. She would not expect or respect any of her macho men to do that for her. In her eyes they were not a man if they did. However, for her un-macho future husband, mouth douching of her cum filled cunt was not only expected, but required. There wouldn't have been enough room in the hall if all the men that Dawn was fucking had shown up. But she did want her favorite five there. There were a lot others seated in the audience. She by the way was dressed in a tuxedo type dress, that revealed a lot of cleavage from her 38 D's and the mini skirt hem was just a few inches below her very wet, very recently fucked crotch. Her panties were also missing too. She hadn't plan on coming to the altar without panties on, but her best men, and other men, couldn't keep their hands out of her cock magnet cunt, or their dicks out of it either, before she came to the altar. Her father and the minister were included in that number. THE WEDDING CEREMONY Dawn also had a difficult time resisting a hard dick of size, because she found fucking and sucking big dicks relaxing and rewarding. The men who fucked her, wanted to help settle the butterflies in her tummy, she had mentioned before the ceremony. By the time she arrived at the altar, she was rather relaxed and all the butterflies had been drown in loads of semen. Upon arriving at the altar, Donald noticed the heady cock and cum breath on his new bride, even though her lips were closed. There was also a strong smell of sex and semen emanated from her cunt. And despite her efforts to clean her cunt as best she could before the ceremony, there was still a thin trail of drooling semen running down the inside of her thigh. It left a noticeable and visible trail as it slowly seeped down the black glistening nylons she wore as part of her sluttish tuxedo slut maternity dress. Yes, Dawn was also 5 months pregnant. She didn't exactly know who the father was at the time, but she definitely knew who didn't inseminate her Donald the groom. Donald, who was only 5' 6 and 130 pounds, was towered over by the men present and even bested in height by his bride who was wearing high slut heels. However, the flouncy lacy white veil head piece he was wearing did help his height out a bit. During the very private ceremony, which had over a 200 in attendance, the tall well built black minister began reading the marriage vows: Do you Dawn Helton, take this male, Donald Woods, as your husband to have as your devoted helpmate and devoted, caring loving husband, who you will instruct, train, and discipline if need be, to be the type of husband you desire him to be. I do. Dawn replied boldly and beaming a broad smile. Donald, do you promise to be faithful and not impose any condition of control upon the woman whom you are being married to this day, and whose family name you will take as your own, and will dutifully be obedient to her in every way. As Donald listened, he knew now he was marrying a well known slut, but he loved her just the same. He wasn't quite sure why, but he felt very optimistic that she was the right woman for him and would make him a good wife, and he a good husband for her. As the minister spoke, his thoughts drifted back to the recent past. Up until 6 months ago Donald didn't know she was a slut, or how much of a slut she was. Donald and his family were originally very upset about Dawn's past when she was found out. Donald was also very upset when he learned that the creamy syrupy juice he'd been tasting in Dawn's wet gapping cunt wasn't because of her excitement over him, but because of the excitation and discharges of other men's dicks a lot of different men at that. To make matters worse for Donald, he was tormented because he had grown quite fond of the taste of her wet gooey gamy cunt. In order to try and reconcile the couple, as well as win Donald's family confidence that Dawn, even though a brazen slut, was still a good catch for their son, Dawn's family paid for Donald and his family to visit Dr. Judy, a well known relationship counselor and marriage counselor for such a situation as this. Just after three visits, not only was Donald seeing Dawn in a new light, but his parents were also strongly supporting their son to make Dawn his wife. And this despite that Dawn's terms for reconciliation was that she have her complete sexual freedom, while Donald would be totally faithful and would still commit to save his virginity for her. To ensure the latter, there was a special engagement ring ceremony especially for Donald. At which, Donald's mother did the honor of locking the high tech chastity cock lock ring on her son's genitals and handing the electronic remote key to Dawn. Apparently, Dr. Judy had worked wonders. Her counseling and therapy efforts pleased Dawn and her family. Dawn's dad had paid her handsomely to work her magic well, brainwashing upon the unsuspecting family and their hard working, nice and mannerly, but mollycoddled mama's boy son which his daughter desired to be her husband at all cost. In addition, Dr. Judy planted a hypnotic suggestion with Donald's parents that they should pay back Dawn's family her counseling fees which were in the thousands - in a rather unique way. Donald's mother was to sexually entertain men for Dawn's dad's profit. In addition, Donald's dad was to always be there to mouth clean his wife's spend filled snatch, as well as the customer's dick if the customer desired this free perk. Dr. Judy later counseled Donald's dad into becoming a full fledged cocksucker, also for Dawn's dad's profit but more about that later. Even though Donald wore a cock lock, Dawn was kind enough to let her groom masturbate periodically during the remainder of their engagement, but only under her watchful eye. In addition, he had to cup his hand and catch his ejaculate and consume it as she watched, being sure to slurp and lick his hand completely clean of his slimy goo. Donald at first thought this aberrant behavior, but at the same time, something inside told him that because the woman he loved, desired it, that it was the right thing to do. Doing this for Dawn became second nature to him, and and he even discussed it with his parents, who praised him for eating his own cum. His parents now looked upon their son's sexual activities with Dawn as natural and normal for such a couple that is for a slut and a wimp. Donald's thoughts snapped back to the moment as hand as he proudly replied to the minister. Yes sir, I do. Then I pronounce you woman and husband. Donald, you may now salute the woman for whom you are now the husband of, by kneeling and kissing her in the special place she desires you to. Donald did as the minister instructed and was soon face to face with his new bride's reddened dick battered gapping gamy funky smelling snatch. Though her hairy crotch was a mess, he was still, as usual, attracted to it and kissed her as he was told. He licked and sucked her too. Dawn let out a sensuous squeal as she grabbed the back of her new and virginal husband's head, and pulled him tightly to her moist, warm, hairy, and recently fucked pussy. Donald had no choice but to give more licking and suction because he knew that was desired of him. This went on for about 5 or 6 minutes until Dawn moaned and cried out in the throes of her umpteenth orgasm of the day. As Donald was about to get of his knees, with his slime smeared face, Dawn asked him to lick up the slimy trail of cum that was still trying to make it's way down her inner legs. He dutifully did. Before you arise my son, you must also salute the best men in a like manner, as a symbol of your acceptance, of the need by the woman you're now married to, to have real men in this marriage. Donald looked over to see all five men unbuckling and lowering their trousers. Each exposed their sizable dicks and he knew immediately what was meant by saluting them. Donald wasn't given the wedding script in detail, but he just knew he was expected to do as he was told. Something he had become rather good at and was becoming proud of it. Another after effect of Dr. Judy's counseling and therapy to help him become the type husband Dawn needed and desired. It took over a half hour , but the new groom was successful in sucking each man's large stately member to a creamy completion, including that of the black minister. After collecting each heavy hot slimy ejaculated load, he was directed to turn around to the audience and show, with a wide open mouth, his receipt of each manly load it was a messy nasty image, but it excited and drew applause from the assembly. The new groom then gulped down each man's copious slimy outpouring. The noisy sucking actions by the groom incited some similar activity among the attendees, as several men and women, dropped to their knees and attended to cocks and cunts orally. A cacophony of low level sucking and slurping sounds could be heard. After the ceremony, the newly weds then proceeded to a reception that can only be described as an outright orgy. Donald, who was wearing his chastity cock lock, never got to put his throbbing hard hot little prick in his new bride until he escorted her back to the bridal suite. She was on the verge of passing out from drink, and was literally covered in cum. Her cunt was puffy and flooded with many deposits of spend. Every man at the reception had fucked her at least once, and over half them did her twice, in whatever hole was available to them. As the new groom took his new bride to their wedding chamber and bed, she was literally drunk and after being laid down, fell soundly asleep. Yet Donald was so excited because he finally had his new bride alone and could finally take liberties with her beautiful, even though pregnant body. She was his at last. He could now fondle and suckle to his heart's content those lovely luscious breasts which were now even fuller due to her maternity - which he had been denied his touch all these many months. And she was now his wife, despite that he was now wearing her family name and the wedding gown. Donald was also thankful that Dawn was able to unlock his electronic cock lock before they left the reception hall. Finally, he could experience what every body else had experienced, on this, his wedding day and night. Donald undressed his now passed out inebriated new wife, and cleaned up all of the splattered dried crusty cum that had covered much of her exposed body and also soaked through the attire she wore. The wedding attire she had worn was cum soaked and ruined. Donald had been accustomed to the strong smell of Dawn's cum breath for most for the remainder of their engagement that is starting from the time they reconciled but this time he had to deal with major fuck odor. However, Donald had to give credit was due, for he also was responsible for some of the same smell. His hair and face and ass also contributed to the funkiness of the air. For his face had been used as a fuck hole by men, and and his mouth as a fuck slop vacuum and rag by women at the reception when he was called on to clean thickly oozing pussies. He also had a slight ache from the several fuckings he'd experienced in his rear. He was glad he had been talked into getting his ass hole prepared for that before the wedding. He knew that it probably was humiliating to let men do that to him, but he did have to admit, Dr. Judy was right about it not really being that bad having a dick, or dicks, pumping in and out of his ass. It also did make leave him feeling mellow and very relaxed after all the hards dicks were through with him. Donald also had a slow leak down his his inner legs from the several jism deposits he'd received backside. Very similarly to the oozing from his new bride's well used, but well satisfied pussy. However, despite the strong blended fucking aroma that filled the bridal chamber, Donald closely inspected his new wife's delectable pussy, which still was attractive despite being a disheveled nasty hairy mess. He decided that he should save that cleaning task for his mouth. It was Dawn who introduced him to cummy cream pie, and Donald elected to throughly delight in consuming the contents of this oozing masterpiece spread before him. In helping him overcome his guilt of being a creamy hair pie lover, Dr. Judy instilled in him that it was a delicacy that only a few males could enjoy, therefore he should not be concerned about the fact that Nature didn't choose others to have a palate for such a dish. Therefore Donald was pleased that he was a chosen one. Donald had sucked out many if not most of all those previous loads ejaculated inside his new bride. He now had to mouth vacuum out one more cunt full of fuck slop before he could enjoy humping the lifeless, but messy, pregnant and very stretched pussy of his new, but sleeping bride. Having simultaneously giving his virginity up to his sleeping wife and performing his conjugal duties, the new husband drifted away to sleep. He cupped one of his wife's delectable tits, and had a smile on his face. BACK TO THE PRESENT After all the dishes were washed and dried, Donald and the other women in the kitchen, did something they did every Sunday for the last few years, after the kitchen had been put in order. They all removed their panties yes Donald wears them, lavender lacy ones at that - in a ritualistic fashion before they return to the room where they will now become sexual dessert for the men there, and also those who will be arriving through out the rest of the evening. Before the servings of juicy cunts and and hard cocks were displayed, all the kids were sent away with an elderly family member to be babysat. Hank Helton was adamant about there not being children around for the adult part of the Sunday Dinner. Hank Helton was the basically the originator and pimp for the Sunday dinner, weekly fuck feast family get together. Family members fucked for free, but outsiders had to pay Hank to participate. Hank, as pimp, gave the females' husbands a cut, but never them. All the women never saw much of what was given to their husbands, but they were very satisfied with all the extra dick and cum they got every week. As one of the wives was overheard saying If nothing else, these little family dinners really helps to satisfy the whore in me. The Helton family women at the Sunday Dinners were are all accustomed to being receptacles for many strange dicks, and so was Donald. In fact, Donald had been trained to be comfortable with hard dicks about the same time his dad was. Dr. Judy had counseled both father and son about the goodness and delight of performing Fellatio and swallowing loads of hot sperm. She cultivated in both of them that to be respected cocksuckers, they always had to swallow the sperm ejaculated in their mouths. And to earn even more respect from the men they blew, they should always kiss, lick and lap a man's hairy gonads. Both father and son always went for the extra respect, and even for an extra serving of semen if the dick they were sucking wanted to give them more seed. Both father and son, and both wimpy, felt respected, even if the men they sucked off never told them that. But by Dr. Judy's standards, they had suck seeded in proving themselves respectable cocksuckers, to men more manly they could ever be. Dr. Judy also got both to see that getting their asses penetrated by hard dicks helped their respect even more. So both father and son also became respected in this most fulfilling way too. FLASHBACK: DONALD AND HIS FATHER BECOME COCKSUCKERS Hank Helton and his wife Hazel were delighted that Dr. Judy had succeeded in winning Donald and his family over to their viewpoint. Namely, that their Dawn, despite her being a wanton slut, was a good catch for Donald's wife. In addition, Dawn and her family were very pleased that Dr. Judy had converted the Woods Donald and his parents, from being an uptight rather conservative family, into a family that were more opened minded. In particular, Donald's mother had also been changed into more of an open legs woman too, that fucked all who were sent to her by Hank Helton, as a way to pay Dawn's family back for Dr. Judy's counseling fees. The Woods didn't know why they were paying Hank Helton back they way they were, but they were pleased to do so because Dr. Judy told them that it was alright, and would better help them bond with the Heltons as a family. Dawn had gotten Donald to eat her creamy hair pie on a routine basis even before he knew what it was. And after Dr. Judy's counseling, she got him to commit to doing so on into their marriage. Her dad, Hank, was pleased to that he had a hand in getting Donald's dad into doing the same for his wife - Donald's mother now turned into a Helton whore. When Hank Helton stopped by weekly to collect his money from the Woods, he also frequently fucked Donald's mom with Donald's dad licking Hank's balls as he laid dick to her. Afterwards, Hank would smile contentedly as he watched Donald's dad go down on Donald's mom and clean up the fuck mess Hank had just made in her well used cunt for hire by Hank Helton. During these visits Hank was treated with the greatest respect by Donald's parents and they were always eager to please him. They didn't know exactly why, for they could have paid him the $20,000 in fees Dr. Judy was owed. However, with the high interest that Hank was charging, they would owe him forever. However, they neither seemed to mind repaying Mr. Helton, as they addressed him. Hank took advantage of their respect for him to turn Donald's dad into a cocksucker. With Dr. Judy's help, it was really easier than he thought it would be. He sensed that Donald's dad, who was small dicked like his son, admired Hank's much larger member and that Dr. Judy wouldn't have much trouble in counseling him into handling and eventually paying homage to it orally. However, hank decided to get Donald's mother to help out too. This also appealed to Hank's kinky side, for it was more titillating to have the wife involved in influencing her husband to become a cocksucker for the other men fucking her. It worked very well. Donald's dad, who was a wimp before Dr. Judy's counseling, was truly a pussy whipped wimp afterwards. From that time on, Donald's dad became quickly acclimated to Hank's dick and copious loads of hot creamy semen, and didn't offer any reluctance to sucking the other dicks that Hank soon had him orally soothing for Hank's profit. To be sure of his commitment to doing dicks for him, Hank had Donald's dad, and Donald too, visit Dr. Judy for cocksucking counseling. Hank found Dr. Judy thrilled to be able to further the father's training in being a submissive whoring cocksucker and to guide the son along the same path. Donald's mom was also invited to assist in her son's introduction to sucking dick meat. She didn't fully understand why, but it made her feel good to help indoctrinate both her husband and grown son into sucking dicks, because the man that was hustling her out asked her to. Donald and his parents would often sit around their kitchen table drinking coffee and discussing what took place in the most recent Dr. Judy session on cocksucking that Donald and his dad had been to. Donald listen to your father. Being called a faggot or a queer or a pansy or a sissy or a pussy bitch boy is something that is not negative or derogatory if you have a taste for cock and cum - which both of you do. Just think of men saying those things about you as giving you mating calls to take care of their dicks, nothing more. Spoke Donald's mom. Son, your mother's right. When a man calls me up and leaves a message on the answering machine or with your mom, for that matter, that goes something like: Faggot! My dick is hard, be ready to meet me and my hard meat so I can flood your fucking tonsils with my dick scum. First of all, by saying Faggot, I recognize that he's simply letting me know that he's more of a man than me. I already know that, since most of the men are. And you know the same is true for you. So there's nothing new there. Right? Donald simply responded by slowly nodding his head. Secondly, like your mother said, the man is obviously in need of releasing his pent up, hot bothersome cum, and wishes to mate with my mouth and discharge his load down my throat. So all in all, he simply wants me to help him with a natural problem that he has. He could have sought out a woman for his relief like your mother who does this all the time for all callers, and at all times of night but no, he chose me instead. And son that's special when a real man chooses a pussy mouth male like you or your dad to take his cum. Donald's mom interjected. Again son, your mother's very correct. Like Dr. Judy said, it gives us a chance to show real men our worth. And that's important to me and it should be for you also. Sweetie, you've proved to Dawn, that while you can't do for her, what her real men do for her with their sturdy dicks, you have proved that you can do something worthwhile with your ability to suck her drippy snatch, and clean her real men's spent leavings out. Now as your dad says, you now have the chance to show Dawn's dad, and other men, that you can do something worthwhile for horny sex starved men too. Donald's mother added. Mom a-and dad, thanks so much for having this talk with me. I-I feel better a-about being seen as, o-or called a faggot o-or those other names. I-I don't know why, but I-I also like the idea of men wanting to mate with me. And you should sweetie, after all, you do want to taste their dicks and suck down their scrumptious hot seed. So the idea of them seeking you out to take their sperm should appeal to you very much. His mother said smiling. FLASHBACK: DONALD & DAWN TALKING RIGHT AFTER THEIR RECONCILLIATION Yes Donald I still want you to be my husband, but I have to tell you this. You still have to be faithful and promise to remain a virgin when we get married in June. Okay? O-Oh alright Dawn. I'll stay a virgin. I-I guess I-I won't have much choice s-since my wearing this chastity lock w-will pretty much ensure that. I-I understand Dr. Judy's and your saying why I-I should come to the altar a virgin. B-But seriously Dawn, it-it's still bothers me that I-I have to be u-under lock a-and key w-while y-y-you're uh... As Dawn listened to Donald, Dr. Judy had warned her that her counseling for her fiance and groom-to-be, had not fully sunk in to the level needed for total complacency by him for her wishes. More counseling session would take care of that. However for the present, Dr. Judy told her he could be very easily intimidated and coerced. Dawn wanted him that way and decided to do just that. Putting out for others freely and being an easy piece for the asking? W-Well yes, that's basically w-what I was going to say. That's just the way I am darling. I can't just fall in love with any man, I need a husband that has high standards and will be committed to me. I see you as that husband for me. I-I guess I should be flattered. Yes, you should be. It's not like I want just anybody to be my husband. It's you I want Donald. And another thing Donald, I also must insist that you continue to suck my pussy after I fuck other men. I need your mouth on my pussy after those big dicks do me. I'm sorry, I know you still see this as unmanly and something that is nasty, degrading and perverted even though you like the taste - now that you know it's jism you've been sucking up all this time. But I know you'll come around to feeling good about doing this the more you do it. But for now, I need you to do it, so you have to get accustomed to eating other men's sperm I bring home to feed to you. You should just see this as just a normal part of our sex life. Besides, sucking is something you're very good at. Alright? SIGH! Mother said you would insist on-on me continuing doing this. S-Sometimes I-I wish I didn't like the taste so-so much. B-But Dr. Judy has helped me deal with my issues on this. B-But I-I'll do as you desire. Good! And another thing darling, even after we're married, you need to understand that you may still have to beat your meat a lot. And I don't want to hear a lot of complaints about you having to do it either. Okay? O-Okay dawn, I-I won't complain? And another thing, my men and their big dicks will have priority over you. And lastly, after you do me with your mouth, I might not be in the mood to let you have some, so don't count on it in the least. Okay?'' SIGH! O-Okay. Mother t-told me a-about the same thing a-and that I should not be surprised. You have a good mother. You are so fortunate. I'm so glad that your family's counseling with Dr. Judy has helped you and your parents have a better understanding of the dynamics of a relationship and marriage between someone like you and I Donald, and the special things you need to do to meet and fulfill my needs and desires. Y-yes Dr. Judy's counseling sessions have been very helpful. Good! And another thing Donald darling, I want you to become good at sucking dad's cock and those of his friends. For I'll probably be asking you to do that for some of my men friends also. Okay? Y-You d-don't mind if I-I'm a cocksucker? Of course not sweetie. I think it's a wonderful thing for you to be able to do that. That makes you more of an asset as my hubby. In fact you know by now, no one in my family or yours is ashamed of you because my dad has you sucking his and his buddies' dicks. You're the only one that has some concerns, but I want you to get over them and delight in mouthing dicks and sucking sperm out of those poles of hard meat. I-I see. D-Dawn, I-I notice y-your haven't said anything about being pregnant, b-but do you plan to have many other babies b-by ... I'm glad you brought that up darling. And if you're trying to ask if I'll be letting other men knock me up? The answer is more than likely yes. And yes, if you really love me, you'll have to get use to children calling you daddy who don't look anything like you. I-I see. O-Okay Dawn, y-you know I love you. Thank you darling. And I do expect you to be a loving caring daddy and get use to raising other men's babies too. Right darling? Y-Yes, Dawn, I-I'll be a loving dad a-and I-I'll be okay raising babies y-you have by other men. After this heart to hear talk with my his new wife to be, things did seem to settle down for Donald and Dawn. Dr. Judy had pretty much gotten Donald resigned to stop complaining and finding things wrong with eating other men's ejaculate from Dawn's pussy. Instead she got him to see that he needed to focus on the intimacy of the act, and that it was only he, that Dawn allowed this treat. For that, Donald should see Dawn's offering as being very special. The more of Dr. Judy's sessions he went to, the more he accepted her perspective and saw that he was indeed special to have this privilege. Donald came to feel even more contented licking up the slimy gooey feed that Dawn brought home from her lovers in her messy slimy crotch. In addition, Dawn and he began to have open and amicable discussions about her men who sent their semen in her pussy for him to eat out. Dawn was very proud of her attitude adjusted and counseled fiance, and even more so the first time she got him to suck one of her studs to a very creamy completion, while she watched. Both she and her stud were very pleased as they heard Donald noisily gulping and swallowing the heavy thick gooey load spurting in my mouth. And Donald had to admit, just as from doing it for Dawn's dad and brothers and other Helton relatives, the taste of fresh spurted jism from his wife's lover was rather savory. He also couldn't put his finger on it but there was also something satisfying from having sucked the dick that had been in her and fucked her better than he ever could dream of. Donald also had to admit that real men shoot some hefty hot tasty loads. A few days later, as he was waiting up for Dawn to come in from a date and the promised intimacy of her letting him put his face in what he suspected would be her creamy, cum filled cunt for him to slurp on, Donald thought about his future as Dawn's husband. He understood that Dawn wanted a wimp husband that she could keep under her thumb as well as humble for her pleasure. Dr. Judy had gotten him to understand that this was no reason to not get married to the woman he loved, for he fit the role ideally to be her wimp husband. She candidly told him that was his advantage over the many men who were fucking Dawn's. Donald, she's just having sex with all those other men. She's only looking for a hard dick from them. You on the other hand, she's expecting a deep true love. The kind of love she can count on, no matter what happens in the relationship or how unfaithful she is to you. That is true unselfish love. The kind of love a slut yearns for in a husband, in addition to his unwaivering faithfulness to her. In addition Donald, your personality is such that you can adapt and accept being used. That's your edge in getting and keeping her, the woman of your dreams. Was Dr. Judy's words to him from one of their many sessions of counseling. Donald loved Dawn that much and knew that by through submission, surrender, and capitulation to her desires, no matter how humiliating those desires may seem to others, she could be his. Or more aptly, as Dr. Judy phrased it He could belong to her. Donald knew that he could please her kinkiness in a way that her other, or "real men", never could. He wanted to keep that advantage. For he fully realized that this was the only way he could keep such a beautiful woman in his corner, and that was by satisfying her kinky side. As he sat and thought further, Donald was reminded of his mom's words that it took a strong and courageous husband, one even stronger than Dawn's real men, to marry and stay married to a brazen demanding slut like Dawn. He also recollected her telling him "Son, in order to stay strong for your tramp wife, you have to become weaker in your resistance to her demands and feel completely at ease knowing that whatever she desires you to do, you are not being degraded by her, but only being given another chance to prove the depth of your true love for her and worthy of being her devoted husband. Donald did his best to be worthy. FLASHBACK: ANOTHER SCENE FROM DONALD AND DAWN'S MARRIAGE: THE FUCK STATION & CUM EATING "Dawn, why do you want me to do this? I'm eating e-enough cum as it is now." Donald spoke to his wife softly and nervously. Dawn is delighted in the shyness that Donald exhibits whenever he does offer the least bit of a challenge to something she desires him to do. To her, that's better than him slavishly accepting all her orders, for it gives her a chance to trump him. That always thrills her to do that. She constantly thanks Dr. Judy for doing such a great job of counseling - and conditioning - Donald to be just the type of husband she wanted. "I know you are baby, but I want you to be even more comfortable and even more at ease being a cum sucker and jism eater. You heard Dr. Judy say that she too thought it was a great idea for you to revel in ingesting horny men's lusty dick cream. We all know you like the creamy stuff. Doing this will make you feel less guilty about slurping cum. And Dr. Judy agrees that it can only help you become a better husband and better appreciate how superior other men's dicks are to yours. Her theory is that the more you taste and drink semen the less you're going to worry about your inferiority. You'll just accept it as fact and adapt to it." Donald knew it was useless debating with his wife. He could tell she'd made up her mind. She wanted him to drink bowls of cold slimy melded cum just like the women did in Japanese Bukkake videos. Sure, he'd gotten acclimated to eating spent jism from sloppy cunts and the fresh heated stuff that spurted straight from men's dicks. But the idea of being a cum sump pump vacuum smacked of the lowest of the lowest type of degradation. Dawn's dad owned a place called a fuck station. Seeking a cheap piece, men would pay to fuck realistic, but artificial rubber cunts at such a place of business. The station had several private booths that also had peep show videos in addition to the rubber cunts. The combination kept a lot of jack off slime off the walls and floors and put money in Hank Helton's pocket. As the customers enjoyed themselves, their many loads of spent ejaculate would collect in a reservoir a glass bowl. Rather than pay for special disposal as medical waste, which the Phantomville Public Health Department required, and which was an extra cost, Hank found a cheaper disposal alternative. He found a loophole in the Phantomville Public Health Department code. If a person wanted to consume the spent ejaculate as food, then that was okay with the forward thinking Phantomville Public Health Department. That really pleased Hank. He talked to his daughter Dawn about a solution he had in mind. They both liked his idea and concluded that while her dad's proposed solution would not only improve his bottom line, it would also titillate both their kinky sides. Dawn and her dad thought that Donald and his dad would be great being cum bowl custodians. When told of the new part time job that dawn had found for him, even with Dr. Judy's counseling and wanting to please his wife, Donald still had some mental reservations about consuming public jism . Sure, he could use the money and a second part time job the first was being a cocksucker for Hank - especially since Dawn wasn't sure how many more kids there were going to be in their growing family. Donald was only sure of one thing, that none of the future babies would probably be his. Especially since his wife only let him put it in without a rubber when she's pregnant. Donald's dad, on the other hand, took his new part time job in stride and saw it as just another way to stay on Hank's good side. His comment to his son was If drinking it cold is too difficult, Hank says it's okay to warm the glop up. Anyway, he says it's like free food with pay for us faggy boys. Donald wasn't offended at being labeled or called faggy, he was quite desensitized at being called such names, including queer. Dr. Judy had cultivated him well in understanding that what others don't understand, they tend to label as unusual, and well queer. Donald recalled Dr. Judy's word from one of their counseling and therapy sessions. And Donald, always remember, that just because you suck like a good fairy and don't mind getting fucked up your ass like a faggot, doesn't make you either. It simply means you enjoy sucking dicks and and having them enjoy your ass. You can even think of others as unusual, or queer, if they don't enjoy the same. Donald had to admit that Dr. Judy was profound in her reasoning and found it difficult rebutting her logic. However, this thing about basically sucking up public jack off still concerned him. Wanting another opinion and being the mama's boy he was, Donald sought his mother's opinion. Oh Donald, without a doubt, you definitely should do it. Since Dawn and her dad both see this as something that is fitting for you and supports their family business as well as helps you to be a good provider for your family, what can be wrong with that? So what if others outside the family - or in the family for that matter - see you and your dad as low life gutter flotsam cum suckers? The point is that you're doing what Hank and Dawn want you to do. Donald had to admit that doing what Dawn and her dad desired was something he always found pleasing to do, but somehow, this seemed to cross the line of decency. He wasn't sure how, but somewhere in the back of his mind, it did. As he thought about it more, sucking cum from a dick was okay, but sucking it up from a collection bowl that was basically a public semen cesspool seemed different. He hadn't quite put his finger on it, but it did. Sweetie, are you concerned that you can't see the trick's dick or experience the hot spurts on you tongue or against the back of your throat? Oh mother, y-you make it s-sound so simple. It is dear. You know you like the stuff, and here's your opportunity to be a happy cum hog. All the works been done for you. Like Hank said, think of it as fast faggy food. Hee! Hee! Hee! Oh mother p-please, b-be serious? I am baby. I just want what makes you happy. That's why I've done everything I can to keep you focused on your love for Dawn and showing proper gratitude and respect for her dad your father-in-law. Sure, I admit I was wrong at first, about thinking that just because she was such a slut and whore, that she was not the girl for you. But after Dr. Judy opened all our eyes, I've been steadfast in doing those things that a good mother should do to help you be the type of husband she expects you to be. Son, you have a good wife and a good marriage. Dawn and her dad have done a lot of good things for you and our family, not to mention the wonderful kids, and beautiful grandkids, she's had for you and us from her real men. Remember, it was Dawn that taught you how good it is to eat her creamy bush pie. Her dad introduced you, as well as your father and me too, to the delight of cocksucking and well, whoring ourselves out in general. I just love the many, many different hard dicks that come over here at all times to fuck your father or I, or for us to suck off. Donald I know you don't mean to be ungrateful for all the things that I did in making sure your reconciliation with Dawn was on her terms and conditions, but it's certainly coming across that way. I hope you haven't forgot that it was me that selected your wedding gown she insisted you wear, and worked hard to help you get fitted for it too. And don't forget about those doctor's visits I went with you on, so you could get properly stretched for the wedding reception, to avoid injury, when Dawn's best men, her father, in-laws, and other guests, lifted the hem of your gown and gave you a congratulatory ass fuck. You were against that at first as part of the reception planning, but you finally admitted later, that it really relaxed you to have had all those dicks rammed in you and leave you dripping their many loads. O-Oh n-no mother, I-I don't m-mean to sound ungrateful, I don't. Y-You're right, t-t-they h-have h-helped us all to see things differently. And for the best son. Donald's dad interjected after entering the room after entering the house unannounced. I heard a lot of what you two were discussing while I was out in the kitchen Donald's dad said. Did you bring it honey? Donald's mom asked her husband eagerly. I sure did. I got one bowl full of genuine Helton's Fuck Station cum out there in the kitchen. Oh goodie! C'mon sweetie, let's go look at what your dad has brought us. Donald's mom said to him in a giddy eager tone as she took her son's hand pulled him after her hurriedly. As soon as the kitchen door was opened the uncovered bowl of yucky putrid looking dick slime had already filled the room with it's fuck scented, fuggy and very funky seminal odor. It was even stronger than the bedrooms of the Woods house, where the fuck scent of all the many whoring fucks and spilled and drooled jism, by the stream of Johns, had literally permeated the carpet and the walls. I slurped up a bowl and a half tonight, but brought this full one like you asked me to. Thank you dear. Donald's mother said to her husband. Donald, I asked your dad to bring this home so I could sample it. I think I'd like to work as a cum bowl cleaner too. Tell you what, why don't you try this out with me? That's the way I got you to try new foods when you were a baby. I ate some of it along with you. C'Mon be a sport and try some of this good real man stuff with mommie. Okay? O-O-Okay mother. Donald responded slowly all the while looking at the rather large bowl. There had to be almost a half gallon of yellowish cream colored sponk, with island of lumpy whitish masses floating all across the surface. From his cock and cunt sucking experience, Donald knew that he was looking at the ejaculate of over a couple hundred plus, rather horny men who had emptied their bloated balls. The sight while very detestable and even despicable, and very nasty looking to say the least, had a certain and strange attraction that Donald never thought he would have to the slimy concoction. He couldn't take his eyes off the filthy foul looking looking bowl of gunky cum. You don't have to say a thing son, I can tell by the look in your eyes, you want to dip your tongue in and try a scoop. It's best to lick it out like a dog does. That way you can get the full aroma as you're tasting the good stuff. Spoke Donald's dad. His dad continued. Go ahead and try it cold first, it's a little thick that way, and hard to swallow all it, but it's worth trying out cool. It's sort of too rich to eat it all that way. We can warm up the rest in the microwave if it's too gloppy for you to get it all down. Spoke Donald's dad, who was obviously a seasoned connoisseur after less than a week working in his new part time job of sucking up public dick leavings. I'll go first sweetie. Then you can dive in. Donald, watched as his mother inhaled the strong smelling stuff and then dipped her tongue into the bowl of cool ejaculate. It evidently agreed with her, for after a few laps she slurped up a mouthful of the viscous yellow- whitish creamy colored glop and savored it as you would fine caviar, as she slowly swallowed it down. Honey you're so right, it is delicious cool and slimy. It has a slight pungency but it goes down so smooth. It's very rich and creamy Donald dear. I just know you're going to like it. Donald followed his mother's example and did exactly what she had done. He didn't slurp up a mouthful as she did, but the smaller amount he did consume lead him to quickly go for another slurp of the cool gluey glop. In no time mother and son were quickly consuming the thick glutinous faggy fast food that dad had brought home from his unusual part time job. Dad only smiled as he watched his wife, and formerly reluctant son, consume the entire gloppy contents of the bowl. Being the good mother she was, Donald's mom let Donald lick gluey spermy dregs from the bottom of the bowl. When he finished, it looked as if it had been washed and dried. He'd performed just like the Bukkake drinkers on those videos. Her husband was amazed and pleased, he didn't have to waist any energy using the microwave after all. All three members of the Woods family were as full as the proverbial tick. Their combined breaths reeked and smelled like a day old well fucked cunt. But yet ,they were quite happy, and happily conversed about the slippery slimy meal that had just been consumed and enjoyed. Donald, like many converts who were formerly reluctant and skeptic, talked eagerly about how chewy and tasty some of the clumpy floating islands were. His mom and dad was pleased. Mom was also pleased that the cum concoction was just as tasty as she had expected. In fact it exceed her expectations. Needless to say, Hank Helton was very pleased that the the entire Woods family was in his employ now to be semen cesspool bowl cleaners. And Dawn, knowing that her husband had not only overcome his reluctance of lowering himself down a notch further on the decency scale for she and her dad, she got an even greater thrill as she tightly pulled his cum cesspool mouth tightly to her semen soggy crotch and had a super orgasm as she thought of how wonderfully her husband and his family had been perverted and degraded by she and her father. EPILOGUE: Donald and Dawn Helton are continuing to enjoy a loving harmonious marriage. Donald knows his place and is glad to stay in it. Whenever he does forget his station, Dawn exercises corporal punishment upon him and he will have a sore backside to show for his forgetfulness. Whippings are not frequent for Donald, but he definitely tries to avoid them. Dawn is expecting the couple's fifth and sixth kids she's expecting twins. She told Donald that more than likely they will be black, since Dawn, has recently become almost exclusively a white cunt for black dick. As usual, Donald accepted this event in stride knowing that he really didn't have a say so in the day to day operation of their marriage, except to be a good and faithful pussy sucking husband and provider, as well as a doting loving daddy to his wife's babies by other men, and of course baby sitter to their children, while his wife goes out on her cock hunts and fuck dates. All in all, another happy, well balanced, marriage in the city of Phantomville. ### THE END ###

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c November 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(M+/F, MF, Inter, Impreg, FemDom) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Story: Marital Distrust, Jealousy & Confrontations Author: C.D.E. CAST: Dan/Daniel-Husband Deloris-Wife Mrs. Davidson-Wife's Mother It amazes me that there are so many divorces. If more couples would just sort things out there would be no need for breaking up happy loving relationships. It seems people who profess to be in love with each other often breakup over the most trivial things. I even heard of a couple divorcing because one of them preferred the toilet tissue roll to be placed on the bathroom fixture one way and the other wanted it to roll the other way. How silly. However, the biggest culprit in breakups seems to be one spouse being jealous or distrustful of the other spouse, usually husbands distrusting the actions of their wives with others. But I understand how it can happen. Especially if both parties are not ready for a heavy commitment as marriage. Marriage is based on give and take. Many people don't realize that there may not be equal giving and taking for each spouse. One spouse may have to accept more responsibilities than the other in order to keep the marriage rock solid. Take for example the situation between my wife Deloris and I. She trusts me and I her. It's the hallmark of our deep love for each other and the cornerstone of our marriage. Copyright c November 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved I trust her to be the independent free spirit she is. Sure, she goes out with other guys, but when she's through skylarking, bar hopping, partying, etc. with them, I trust her to come home. She hasn't failed me yet. On the other hand, she trusts me to be there when she comes back. She made me promise her that I'll always be faithful and always be there for her. She's promised me that she'll always return. Now that's the kind of trust more marriages need. We are approaching our eighth anniversary. We have four wonderful children. Jackson, age 8 - our mischievous redhead son; Julie age 6 - our blond "Barbie doll" daughter; Samantha, age 4 - she keeps a beautiful tan year round; and Randall, age 2 - our newest family member, who so much favors his Italian ancestry. Another thing that robs the love out of a marriage is confrontation. My wife and I have agreed that we would try to avoid confrontation as much as possible with each other. We even added that to our wedding vows. Promising to avoid finger pointing and assigning blame, but rather working to solve the problem. "Dan darling, I knew for sure I really was in love with you when you went down on me the night of the Centerville football game. Remember?" We'd been married about two years and was looking at a love story on TV, when my wife brought up the topic of when she first fell in love with me. I was just about to respond, but she resumed talking before I could speak. "It was the evening you'd picked me up at the school after we'd returned on the school bus from Centerville. You ate me out so beautifully. I just knew I was head over heels in love with you after you didn't say a thing when I revealed that you'd just lapped and sucked up the cum of the three guys who I'd made out with before you came to pick me up." "Er, well Deloris, you know I loved you, but the other reason was that I was very inexperienced sexually, uh, far less than you at the time. Remember you told me you were all wet and sticky because you were thinking of me? So I-I really didn't know that wasn't the real reason your pussy was so juicy, gluey, raw and puffy." I replied, with a slight blush. "I did mislead you, but when you told me my kiss was very flavorful, I got this sudden urge to have you do me. Remember me telling you that if you liked the flavor of my kiss, you'd love the taste of my pussy?" I nodded to her. "Well the truth is, besides getting laid on the bus three times - you know, by Ricky, Jack, and George - Coach Hudson also talked me into giving him a blowjob before I came out to meet you." "Y-You mean I-I..." "Yes honey, you had a cum flavored kiss, courtesy of him." Copyright c November 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved "But Deloris, w-why didn't y-you ever do t-those things for m-me? We did have a serious relationship, e- even though you were dating others." "It was because I loved you Dan. If I didn't love you, I would've given you blowjobs or let you put it in like the other guys. You would've lost respect for me and taken me for granite as an easy piece whenever your dick got hard - just like most of the guys did. No, Dan, I wanted it to be special for us. That's why I wanted you to jack off for me and wait on our wedding night for us to have intercourse, and not before. "You were very, very special to me Dan darling and you made me feel so good when you ate me out that night. I couldn't help but fall in love with you, especially after you raved about how delicious my pussy tasted when you slurped up all my love goo. You really vacuumed my pussy good. In fact, you were the only guy to really suck my pussy. Sure a couple of guys kissed it before putting their meat to me. But you did it upright. Because of that, I decided then and there that only you and I would share such a special pleasure. From that night on, I promised myself that you would be the only one I let suck my pussy, and especially so after I got fucked by other guys. That's why I got your sworn promise before I told you what you really tasted." "I-I didn't know you were even having sex with guys. I just wished you'd let me know t-that's what you were doing b-before you got me to promise and swear that I'd do that for you anytime you wanted me to." "Well if I'd done that, you and I may not have been together now. And also, I'd be wearing somebody else's name. No Dan honey, I think telling you later, after getting your irrevocable promise, helped us bond our relationship and marriage much tighter." I couldn't argue with her on that. But anyway, I did grow fond of her used dripping twat, even though I never admitted it to her again. Since she wouldn't permit me regular sex, it was a way of me being intimate with the girl I loved. However, after knowing what her love goo really was, I'd cringe whenever I'd see or walk pass one the guys whose jism I knew I'd eaten out of her luscious snatch. She has held me to this teenage promise all these years. Unfortunately, she knew when I made a promise, I stuck to it. After that incident in our senior high days, a pattern was set. Our relationship pretty much became confrontation free and we were able to have a tight, though somewhat non- conventional loving relationship and eventual marriage. It was obvious that the woman I loved needed other men. Men who were better endowed, I might add. However, I gave her something they couldn't. That was the exhilarating feeling she got from me eating her creampies. I was still hopeful that Deloris would eventually finish sowing her wild oats, so to speak, that is outgrow her need for other men and that her love for me would cause her to become focused on just me. It's still a bit a bit humiliating for me knowing that I'm eating her lover's jism, but after all, marriage is give and take right? She takes their cum and gives it to me. I in turn give her a feeling that she says no one else can. She says by my doing this for her, I'm putting my love in action. I do love her and need her in my life even if this is what she requires of me. I'm almost sure I couldn't have won her over otherwise. More about that later. We have worked this all out over the years so our marriage is pretty much confrontation free on this and other matters. The first real test of our anti-confrontation vows came on our wedding night after we had blissful sex. "Darling, it's better we deal with the problem than worry about how or why it happened." My wife said to me after she revealed that she was pregnant by one of her old boyfriends. Even though thoroughly shocked at her revelation, I was at a loss for words. All I could think of was to ask if she planned to have the baby. Copyright c November 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved "Yes darling, I want to have Jack's baby for us." She went on to tell me how pretty his baby would look with her looks and Jack's handsome rugged features. I asked if she'd intentionally got pregnant. You see, Jack was not one of my favorite people. He and I just didn't get along that well in school. He was always taunting me about my manhood and what a wimp and sissy I was. It was bad enough I had feasted on his jism from my fiancee's pussy before we became engaged, but now to have her carrying his child was even worse. "No darling, it was actually his idea. He had me get off the pill. He thought it would be a great wedding gift for us, since he said he didn't have much money for anything valuable. So I thought that was nice of him to offer such a thoughtful and really priceless gift for us. Our first baby." My new bride said with dreamy eyes as she cuddled up to me as we laid there in the bridal suite. I was at a loss for words as well as what to do about this situation. "Darling, I probably should've told you about his gift while we were was making it, but he thought it better to be a surprise for you." Said my beaming new bride as we talked about the "gift" my high school nemesis had given to us. "Darling, they say confession is good for the soul. So now that we're married and promised to be devoted to each other, I must let you know that even though I never fed you creampies during our engagement - you know to show you I was being faithful to you - I obviously wasn't. I was having sex with several guys. Jack is just the one who convinced me to get pregnant. I know it was somewhat wrong dating other guys, but I needed their big cocks and I needed you. I know you wanted me to be happy and I needed those big cocks to be happy. I really missed sharing those moments I had with the guys with you - that is by letting you taste the results of them screwing me - but I didn't want to give you any reason not to make me your wife, even though I often wanted to feed you my creampies. Even though you say you don't, I really think you like eating them." Deloris sounded so sincere in her confession as I gave her an incredulous look. Even though I'd been tricked and utterly humiliated, the wonderful look in her eyes and her expression of need for me caused my anger to subside - to even my own amazement. We talked on and on into the night. I will remember our wedding night as basically setting the pattern of rules of behavior for the remainder of our marriage. My new bride revealed very candidly that even though she truly loved me, she would need to have sex with men who had large penises. She said if I truly loved her, I would agree to this. I tried to express myself without being confrontational, but I just wasn't having much luck. "Dan, are you being confrontational?" My new wife of a few hours sternly said with a raised voice as I tried to discern how we should or could explore other options, such as therapy for her where other guys wouldn't have to be involved or have sex with her. "You are too being confrontational! And to think, just this afternoon, you swore not to be that way in front of several dozen people. You are a sham! And to think of all the trouble I've gone through to make this a happy occasion. I got pregnant from jack for us. I had to secretly slip around behind your back and have sex with different guys and pretend I was faithful to you during our engagement of 5 months. Just imagine, five months of not having you slurp up their hot jism from my wet cunt. You don't know how much agony I went through not feeling your mouth on my creampies. It's just not the same having you suck my pussy with no dick cream in it. If I knew you were going to act this way, I wouldn't have married you." I worked to calm my new wife down and could see that she was indeed upset at my questioning of her actions. In spite of all that'd happened, I was now worried about losing my new wife, especially since she mentioned over and over the possibility of an annulment and the talk of her getting an abortion if that happened, since I wasn't man enough to be the daddy of another man's baby. "I... SOB!...I've got to go... SOB!... somewhere and think... SOB!...." My new bride cried out as she hurriedly dressed and ran toward the door sobbing. All alone in the large bridal suite, I felt lonely without her already. By the time I threw on pants and a shirt and went looking for her, I couldn't find a trace of her. It was then I decided to enlist the aid of my best man, and best friend, Julius. He was staying at the same hotel, as were other members of the wedding party. When I reached his room and was about to knock on the door, out stepped he and Deloris. "Just the person we were coming to see." He said as I stood there with my curled hand raised to knock on his door. "Dan, I can't believe you're treating Deloris this way... and on your wedding night too. C'mon. Lets go back to your suite and talk about this." I was not only speechless but dumbfounded at his attitude and his words. He walked with his hands around the waist of my new bride and I walked in a daze besides them. Julius was a smart guy in school but also a handsome jock. He was intelligent and got along with everybody. I couldn't help but envy him for his combined physical and intellectual ability. As we walked, I discovered the reason he and Deloris were coming back to our suite. Julius's girlfriend was asleep and he didn't want to awaken her. Between the heavy sex he'd given her and the wine she'd consumed, she was out like a light. Julius and Deloris seemed rather chummy as he comforted her on our short walk back to the bridal suite. They never seemed to have much to say to each other before. That was strange in a way, since he was just the type of guy Deloris seemed to attracted to when she was dating me and bringing me her love nest filled with other men's sperm. "Dan, I can understand why you may be surprised at what Deloris has told you, but not wanting to accept your responsibility as a new husband and daddy is beyond belief. I thought for sure you were more honorable than that." "W-What!" I blurted out in disbelief at what he'd just said. "Dan, Deloris came to crying her eyes out because you are being confrontational after you swore in front of the minister and the public that you wouldn't. I can't believe that. Is it true? Tell your best friend it's not." I rambled on trying to give Julius my side of the story and to understand what seemed like double talk from him. Deloris added her two cents worth from time to time, as we three discussed the whole situation. It was then that I discovered that Julius, while my best friend had known what a slut Deloris was before I met her and that he indeed had fucked her several times too. But that didn't stop him from trying to mend our current rift. "Dan, I know what I'm going to say will bruise your ego, but you really don't have what it takes to please a fine woman, and an excellent piece of ass, like Deloris here." I was shocked and wide eyed at my best friend's words. Deloris seemed rather pleased at his words and was blushing and smiling in delight. "You can give her great emotional love, but you lack the equipment and skills to give her the real physical love she needs. Your five incher just won't do it. Sure your tongue does a great job, but she needs more than that. You know that. She needs a real cock that can drive her the distance and fill up her garage. Plus I know she loves to have the bottom of her pussy touched. Understand?" Still speechless at his candor, I could only nod that I understood his analogy. "So it's not her fault you can't give her the manly things she needs. Therefore, since you're only able to give part of what your new wife needs, there should be no lack of honor on your part of not getting in her way as she seeks and gets the other portion of sex you can't provide. An honorable husband would support his wife in this endeavor just as you did when you were dating. Yes you should not only continue sucking her cum filled pussy as you've done before, but not be upset over the fact that she was inseminated by another man." "Dan, honey, I truly love you. We were meant for each other, but like Julius said, I occasionally need other men that can dive deep and swim the distance, unfortunately you can't." Deloris added as I had to accept another humiliating metaphor being dumped upon me. I sat silent. "And Dan, her having another man's baby should not be a crisis for confrontation. It should be a time of joy, especially since the other man is not laying claim to the child. It's clear Jack wants the baby he planted in Deloris to call you daddy. You should be ashamed for not accepting the gift in the spirit in which it was intended." Julius was in law school and it showed. However, as he and I and Deloris talked, he did persuade me that I did need and love my new wife in spite of her promiscuous faults, and that I should've understood that she wasn't going to change overnight. I let them both know that I had reconsidered my position and that I would not be confrontational or seek a divorce or annulment. They both seemed pleased at me telling them that. However, they both became enraged when I suggested that my new bride should seek therapy for her sexual addiction to other men and their heavy duty equipment. "After all, size is not a significant issue in a man satisfying a woman sexually. It's just an emotional state of mind." I added. The look on Deloris's face in response to my statement was obviously that of anger. Julius also had a hostile facial expression. Easily intimidated, I was instantly cowed when they both stood and approached the chair where I sat. "You don't get it do you Dan? Therapy ain't gonna help you keep this good woman. This is!" Julius shouted at me as he pulled out his rather large 7 inch plus cock. "Get over here Dee and get my dick hard so I can show my friend, and your pipsqueak husband, what kind of therapy you need. And don't get up! If you do, I'm gonna leave my fist print on your face!" Julius yelled as he directed the last part of his statement at me. I sat frozen to my seat. To say I wasn't scared would be a lie. Julius was quite muscular and capable of knocking me out cold without even trying. My new bride had a smile on her face as I sat and timidly watch her grasp and slowly lick Julius's fine specimen of manhood. She had yet to place her lips on my much smaller prick. Not only did I have to watch her sensuously lap and noisily suckle his well formed cock to an erect state, my fear of having to watch her get fucked by him in my presence was realized as he directed her to the bed and into position to receive him. Again my best man warned me not to move as he placed himself between her shapely parted legs and positioned the head of his large golf ball size swollen dickhead at the entrance of my new bride's pretty pouting pussy lips. When hard, Julius's dick was well over eight inches long and rather thick. He had to be almost two inches in diameter. I had to admit his cock looked impressive even if posed to fuck my new wife. My humiliation was great. There was absolutely nothing I could do except watch the scene unfolding before me. "OH yeeeeesssss! That feeeels soooo goood! OOOOHHHHH! Yesssss!" Deloris cried out as Julius began to push his truncheon of hard flesh in her beautiful gash. In no time they were fucking like two animals in heat while I was relegated to the sidelines to watch. In no time I had an involuntary erection, which surprised me since it usually takes me time to recharge for sex. "SLURP!... SLAP!... SLURP!... SLAP!... SLURP!... SLAP!..." The persistent, but unique sound of their coupled wet genitals meeting and separating seemed to fill the room. My best man and new bride functioned as well lubricated machines. As I watched, I was cuckolded not only on my wedding night, but it occurred in my wedding bed. I'd heard of men having staying power, but this blew my mind as my friend and best man, fucked my new bride for over a half hour straight before giving her his load. I counted four orgasms for her over the half hour. Each seemed louder than the last. I had to be impressed, considering he'd already fucked his girlfriend several times earlier that night. I was also impressed how much of his big tool Deloris took in her cunt. His point was well made. If she delighted in being deep fucked, I was no match and neither was therapy a substitute for a big long hard dick for her. As they both came tumbling down from their sexual peak, and laid tightly together for a few moments before stirring, I almost wanted to applaud them for their performance. I had been totally intimidated, humiliated, humbled, and put well in my place by these two. However, the strange thing is that it seemed proper for then to have done this to me. I was truly perplexed at my emotional state of mind. I was mentally exhausted and browbeat from their sexual demonstration. "Understand better now?" Julius said looking over at me as I still sat and looked sheepishly at him as he used my formal wedding shirt to wipe the pussy and fuck slime from his softer, but still long and sizeable penis. After dressing, he had me walk with him to the door. My new bride laid just where he'd got off her, legs parted and her pussy, a slimy mess. "Dan, she's a good woman. Sure, she's more than you can handle, but that's what friends are for. When I'm around I expect to drop in and fuck her, as does many of the other guys. You don't have to worry about her getting the dicks she needs." I again looked at my friend as if he was not from this planet. He went on. "You're the right man for her. You're a wimp, everybody knows that. You know it too. But with her you'll be a wimp with a beautiful wife. Without her, you'd be just a plain, unnoticeable insignificant wimp. How many girls were attracted to you in school other than Deloris? Zero right? You were attracted to her and she to you. Therefore, I think you two were meant to be together." I let him know I understood where he was coming from, but wished it didn't have to be that way. Reluctantly I shook his outstretched hand to reaffirm that our friendship was still intact, in spite of his fucking demonstration and threats to me. After a few more words of advice, he departed to his room by saying "You married some good pussy there, and should be proud she's carrying your name. She'll make you a good wife and will be a good mother too." "I saw you shaking hands, does that mean you're still friends?" My wife said as I returned to the bed where she was still laying on her back, legs open and one hand holding her loose pussy lips closed. "Yes, we're still friends, even though I don't think it'll be like it was before." I replied as I sat on the side of the bed looking at my new bride's magnificent exposed tits, which still had Julius's reddish handprints on them. "It'll be better. He has helped us negotiate our differences and get our marriage off to a good start, don't you think?" She said looking over at and reaching her free hand toward me. I knew I was too weak to resist going down the path she and Julius had laid out for me. I held her hand. I knew it sent the signal that I had capitulated in accepting her as she was, and that I would be the type husband she desired. That is, one who is a faithful cuckold. And I should add, one that eats her other men's abundant cum from her adulterous, wet, used, pussy. She soon let me know that was what she wanted me to do next for her. "Dan sweetie, give me a kiss." My wife cooed sensuously. I did. I needed it. It was slightly stale and I attributed it to her having suckled Julius's big member. Nevertheless it was good being close to her again. I didn't feel as lonely as a hour or so before. "C'mon give me the feeling that no big dick can. I want your mouth on my pussy. No, it's your pussy. I'm carrying your name now. Give your pussy what it needs after another man's big dick has used it." Without saying a word, I positioned myself to lap up Julius's spent deposit of semen from my new bride's leaking bushy muff. This would be the second time that night I'd sucked jism from her pussy. The first time was earlier when tying to get her off after my futile effort to do so with my much smaller and less robust tool. I had to resort to tongue and lips and in the process consumed my own spunk. For some reason, I suspected that me eating my own stuff out of her would not have the same impact as that of another man who'd fucked her. As I lowered my face into her well fucked sloppy slimy crotch, the joyful smile on her face led me to believe that my suspicion was correct. Her facial expression could only be described as one of ecstasy. Later, after I had finished my husbandly oral conjugal duty, I was hard again and mounted her for a good minute. I couldn't hold back a second longer. Her pussy was quite loose form Julius's much larger tool, but I was thankful for the opportunity to once again to have the pleasure of normal intercourse and come in her. After shooting my wad, my prick shriveled. I laid there enjoying the closeness with my slut bride and suckling on her delectable heavenly tits, even though my best friends hand prints were still very evident on the flesh I was mouthing. I didn't feel slighted when Deloris asked me "Are you still in me darling?" For after seeing her in action, I felt even less of a man in her eyes and in a strange way, beholding to her for her loving me and wanting me as her husband. Later, we lay cuddled and drifted off to sleep as newlyweds in love. She went to sleep before me as she lay in my arms. I looked at the beautiful woman that was now my wife and carried my name. As I too drifted to sleep, I mentally thought of what I'd have significant to say about my wedding night years later. I'd have to remember it as when I lost my virginity. I'd have to write that my new bride married me pregnant with another man's baby in her; another man gave her the best fuck of the night, and I sucked out another man's jism from her well fucked cunt. VISITS OF THE FATHERS By the way, during her pregnancy and after the birth of our first child, the real father, Jack came by often, even when I was at home. They were usually at my wife's invitation, I might add. These visits were awkward for me, but as my wife said it would, I soon got use to his presence as he shared the growing years of "our" son, including the pregnancy phase. I had to resign myself to my new bride having a baby from one of the guys I hated the most in senior high. However, as they say, time heals wounds. I had to be civil to Jack. I simply had to overcome negative feelings and not let them interfere with my marriage. Eventually, I had to accept him as a frequent visitor to our home, to our bedroom, and in my wife's pussy. Our first child, Jackson, strongly resembles Jack. Deloris insisted on naming him after Jack. It did take some getting use to Jack caressing her swollen belly and tits right there in front of me as we sat watching TV during his visits. My new wife thought it was good to have him watch her progress through her pregnancy. I didn't, but I knew she'd accuse me of being confrontational if I said anything to the contrary. Therefore, I went alone with her desire. Usually, before he left from his visits, he and my wife would say their good-byes in the master bedroom, while I was left to watch TV. After she delivered, I watched "our" son while they said goodbye. Always after their good-byes, Deloris would invite me to suck her wet slimy oozing muff that "our" son's father had left her with. The first time she did this, I was shocked at her behavior. However, since I'd sworn to a confrontation free marriage as well as my infamous creampie promise, I did as she desired. I put our son to bed and went to our master bedroom and did my duty. I'm not sure why my lovely wife gets off by having her lover's thick jism sucked out of her tasty, but slimy heated twat. She says it thrills her to know it's sliding down my throat and being consumed by me. Anyway, I go along with her wanting me to do so. I always get a chance to have normal intercourse with her afterwards. Sometimes she requires me to tongue out my own cum and sometimes not. However, we are a very loving couple and we both feel we have a relationship that is very strong, stable and built on the highest degree of trust. A trust as I discussed earlier. Over the years, Deloris has had other lovers. Our other three children are the results of her being fucked by my best friend Julius and affairs with other lovers. As with Jack, the father of our first born, I share her cunt with Julius - Julie's real father - the other two real fathers, and an assortment of other men she fucks around with. Sometime after "our" first child was born, Deloris let me know that she'd only consider getting pregnant from a man who could get to the bottom of her cunt and directly inject his sperm into her cervix on contact. I knew this was a clear message to me that I would not be fathering any of the children in our marriage. I said nothing when she revealed her impregnation policy to me. She knew, I was too weak willed and intimidated by her and the fathers of our children to complain, or confront her, or them for that matter. She and they knew, I knew my place. In fact it was my best friend Julius who told me he'd beat me up if I didn't be a good daddy to his daughter, who is Julie. He encouraged the other fathers to give me the same message. They are all well built and hunks in their own right. I of course took their warnings seriously. As you can imagine, with her lovers and all these real fathers visiting from time to time, I'm kept rather busy babysitting as well as tonguing my wife's wet messy pussy after her men leave. The real fathers or her other lovers also take her out on dates or away for the weekend. One time she went on a week long cruise. She came back impregnated with our fourth child. My wife has told me it's condom time again for me. I guess that means she's planning on letting one of her lovers inseminate her again. I overheard she and Sam talking the last time he was here. He's the father of our daughter Samantha. By the way, he's black. He said something about wanting her to have a son for us, from him. It's hard for some guys to keep their wives happy for a sustained period of time, but I believe, with the help I'm getting, I'm doing a pretty good job. Sure, others might say I'm paying a steep price, but I look at it as an investment in a stable long term relationship and marriage. How many of either of those have you seen lately? Additionally, it's not always easy being in a marriage with the responsibilities and pressures I have, in trying to be a good husband and daddy. However, my wife and the real fathers of our children say I'm doing a great job. Occasionally, I grit my teeth when things get hectic as I remember how I got into this all this and how things could've been different. Yet I remember my vows as a new husband and the advice my best Friend Julius gave me, on my wedding night after fucking my bride in front of me. When Jack and Julius and the other real fathers of our children come by, the kids know them as "play uncles". The real fathers all seem to exhibit this smirking smile when they refer to me as the daddy of their biological offsprings. My wife also exhibits a similar smile when they say that too. I do love my wife deeply, and sure, it was upsetting to find out that my new bride had been knocked up by someone else and that I'd never even gotten the chance to put it in her prior to our wedding night. However, from what you've read already, my unassuming nature and mild- mannered personality was probably a factor in my accepting the situation. Copyright c November 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved MY MOTHER-IN-LAW Deloris's mother is also to be given some credit too. It was her who first told me that sucking her daughter's pussy was the best way to get next to her and woo her away from her other high school dates, who were far more handsome than me. I tutored Deloris in algebra. That's how I came to get close to one of the most popular girls in senior high. That gave me an excuse to go over to her house from time to time. One evening when I came by and Deloris was not home, her mother and I had a chance to talk. She made me blush when she told me she knew I had a crush on her daughter. "Yes Daniel, I know you really like my daughter, but I know you don't have the looks or equipment to get or keep her attention." With a more than beet red face, I looked at her strangely, embarrassed and puzzled at how she could tell I had a small cock. "I bet you want to know how I know?" In response, I shook my head sheepishly. "By your basket. Your crotch. There's no sizeable bulge. It's easy to tell you're not hung like the other fellows that take her out. To help me improve my wooing odds, her mother, Mrs. Davidson, started teaching me how to perform Cunnilingus, or the art of sucking pussy. She also swore me to secrecy for teaching me to do this. Therefore I never revealed any of this to my wife Deloris or anyone else before. Please don't tell anyone either. Well anyway, it was exciting to go down on Mrs. Davidson. I couldn't help but get an erection during these secret sessions we had, as I let my lips, tongue and mouth explore her womanly exotic bushy snatch. "Go ahead and jack off Daniel, it's not good to leave with your little thing aching so." She said the first time she noticed I was sporting a hard-on after my first lesson in pussy eating. She encouraged, actually more like demanded, I jerk off while I knelt before her. This became the routine for us at these pussy sucking lessons she taught me. Many times it seemed that my masturbating got her excited too, as she would pull my face back to her "hairpie" for another sucking session as I was jacking off. I found that rather pleasant also. It was so exciting to suckle and mouth her inner pink pussy flesh. It gave me such a thrill to have her hold my head so tightly to her heaving gyrating crotch as she got off on my face. The feeling of having my head held in a thigh lock, with her shapely legs crossed behind my back was rather nice too. She also taught me breathing techniques and several different positions when sucking pussy. Mrs. Davidson, also introduced me to the concept of a creamy hairpie. However, I didn't know what it was at the time. Mrs. Davidson also called the gloppy milky goo as love secretions from her pussy. The first time she had me eat it from her, her reddish pink gapping cunt lips was oozing the thick slimy stuff from her warm wet gaping pussy lips. Copyright c November 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved It had a peculiar taste I wasn't accustomed too, but through Mrs. Davidson's guidance I became accustomed and fond of the slimy tasting love secretions. "Now Daniel, my love secretions are because of my love for my husband, but when Deloris gives you her love secretion, you'll know it's true love between you two." Mrs. Davidson's said to me. I asked her if her husband ate her goo too. "No, he doesn't Daniel. You see, real men... er, what I mean is that men who have sturdy equipment just see the goo as us women being in heat and ready for a good fuck. They then just take their manly equipment out and fuck us. The goo is just a good lubricant to them. But with you it's a little different. To you it becomes an ambrosia of love. You have to approach the situation a little differently. You have to stick your tongue in where a, uh, well, a real man would otherwise push his dick in." Mrs. Davidson told me not to become shamed over the label of her not referring to me as a "real man". "I don't mean to hurt you with words Daniel. That's definitely not my intent. You should not let it bother you for someone to say you're not a real man. We both know the situation. You want my daughter to be yours. There is heavy competition out there. You have to win her over. We both know what you have to do to get there. Don't we?" Processing all she said, I sheepishly nodded my head and accepted the fact that I was competing with "real men" and may have to do things real men wouldn't do in order to be successful. I had already been sucking her daughter's cunt for a while, before the Centerville game night when Deloris gave me what I thought was her love secretions - that is due to her love for me. When I did taste Deloris's love goo that night, I was so elated and excited. I ate Deloris's reddish pink, gaping, gamy, slimy cunt out ravenously. It was a wonderful moonlight night as I brought her to several orgasms until her pussy was too sensitive for even my tongue to touch. I was so proud of my accomplishment. Later when Deloris informed me what her love goo really was, I was speechless because I knew that her mom had also fooled me too. I had eaten Deloris's father's semen from her mom, and now had just eaten the spent sperm of three guys that'd fucked her daughter within the last few hours. I confronted Deloris's mother at our next secret meeting. Copyright c November 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved She knew I was upset at being taken advantage of because of my sexual ignorance. "Daniel dear, I didn't really lie to you. I just didn't tell you that the goo was not all mine. Yes, a good part of it was my husband's secretions, that is from his balls. But Daniel, don't get upset, I knew you'd eventually find out what was going on. I had to introduce you to eating a creampie made by another man, because for some men to hold onto the woman they love, this will become a necessary part of their love making to keep that woman in their lives. Do you understand now why I had to introduce you to, and help you get acclimated to the taste of used, well fucked pussy?" Mrs. Davidson's tone was sincere and even motherly, as she talked to me. Even though I'd been tricked, she'd convinced me it was for a good cause. I knew she was correct, and that there was really no need to be angry with her. "I believe you'd make a great husband for Deloris and be a stabilizing influence on her. My husband and I both like you too. Otherwise, do you think I'd be wasting my time doing all I've done for you?" Copyright c November 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved In the end, I not only apologized to Mrs. Davidson, but thanked her for her faith in me and for all she'd done. "You're welcomed Daniel. You just be faithful to Deloris, stay non-confrontational - which shouldn't be hard for you - and of course, not break your promise to her, that is of sucking her creamy pussy when ever she needs it. You two will be the tightest of lovers." I asked Mrs. Davidson if it was okay for me to try and get her daughter Deloris to have regular intercourse with me, like she was doing with many other guys at school. "Daniel, you may run the risk of losing her if you do. You have to show and continue proving to her that you are special for her. You have to let her know you're different from the other guys she dates. Sure she'll put out for them cause they`re handsome jocks and that they'll hound the hell out of her for some. She'll also need the feel and action of their large robust cocks and a good long lasting fuck that such men can give a girl. However, you on the other hand, have to play a different tune. You'll sing to her pussy with your mouth. No Daniel, don't try to be like the other guys that fuck her. Your best role is to be the guy that sucks her. My advice is for you to be content to do as she's letting you do now. Eat her out when she brings her cum filled cunt to you, and it's best if you continue jacking off for your relief. Tell her you do that and that you're staying faithful to her. Don't worry, she'll let you know when she's ready for you to put it in." As usual, Mrs. Davidson still had me eat her out as well as jack off for her at that session too. She and I continued to have our clandestine meetings over the years. She has helped me with other situations in our marriage. Her advice has been invaluable in helping Deloris and I keep our solid marriage on track and non-confrontational. Copyright c November 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved Her guiding theme over the years has been that I should understand that I'm the real husband in the marriage if not the true real man in her, their family, or my wife's eyes. "Daniel, you may not be the real father of any of the children your wife has had, but you should be pleased that they have your last name, legally yours and that they call you daddy. Even though your wife puts out for many men and bring her cunt full of the experience back for you to taste, or to raise as one of your kids, she still respects you as her real husband. That is very special and you should be proud of being her loving husband, and her as your loving wife. She always returns to you, no matter how frequent or how long she stays away with her bigger dick handsome lovers. You therefore should respect her highly as your wife, and hold her in high esteem for her good qualities, no matter that others may perceive her as a slut and you as a cuckold." I value my mother-in-law's wisdom and eloquence. ###END### Send comments or future story ideas to CDE at [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c MAY 1999 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(M+/F, MM, MF, Inter, Impreg, FemDom) WARNING: DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE AUTHOR'S NOTE: To my readers, consider this story an appetizer to the wedding story I'm writing for release in late June 1999. Thanks for the many comments which lead to this story and the wedding story. STORY TITLE: The Second Reception Author: C.D.E. CAST: Husband-Benny Wife-Betty Husband's Aunt-Betsy Husband's Mother-Barbara My wife, Betty, and I will celebrate our fourteenth anniversary next month. I think about our wedding quite often, and wonder if I was as lucky as my family and friends said I was then, and now also for that matter. My family and others tell me how wonderful the relationship is that Betty and I have. We have 5 wholesome kids, two daughters and three sons. Also she is currently pregnant. True to her plan, my wife she has had a baby almost every two years, since our first, which was born within our first year of marriage. I wanted her to stop at four kids but she was persistent and so now we have the five I mentioned, with the sixth in the oven. Yes, I'll be the first to admit that, like any couple, we've had our rough spots here and there, but I guess they're overall minor and over the years we have arrived at a stable marriage, putting up with each other's idiosyncrasies. We do love each other very much. One of the things I joke with her about is the kids. That is, that none of them look anything like me. "Well darling, maybe the next one will" is her usual answer. I was a virgin when we got married. Betty lead me to believe she was technically a virgin also, but more about that later. We dated steady for three months and were engaged for a year after that. My Aunt Betsy lived about two hours drive away from my home town. She introduced me to Betty when I stayed with her during a summer break, at the end of my junior year at the university. Betty was one of the prettiest girls I'd ever laid eyes on. She was brunette, well proportioned and well endowed with her size 38 bustline. Her hips had a very seductive and rhythmic sway as she walked. To say she was a knockout was an understatement. Her legs were quite shapely, like those of a model. Betty seem to take a keen interest in me at our first meeting. I was totally surprised. I'd never had any luck with girls and especially knock outs like Betty. Before I knew it, Betty and I agreed to our first date. "Well Benny, you did real well for someone who your mom says has trouble with the girls." My aunt said as Betty drove away from my aunt's front door. "Well Aunt Betsy, I'm as surprised as you are. You didn't set this up did you? Why would any girl that beautiful want to even meet me, let along go out with me? She's awesome." "Well Benny, for one thing she's told me that she knows she can't seem to find men that see her for more than a sex object. So when I told her you were going to be staying here for the summer, it was her idea to come by. I of course played up your intellectual side. You two seem to hit it off well." My aunt was a widow, so I was pretty busy helping her do things around the house for the short time I was in the small town where she lived. When I wasn't doing chores for her, Betty and I would go on dates. It was funny but Betty would prefer we go over to a neighboring city 40 miles away. Her logic was that there wasn't much to do in her home town. I had to agree, even though there was two movie theatres and several pizza parlors. Whenever she and I were seen together locally in her home town, heads would turn and it seemed people were taking an unusual interest in us. However, I dismissed this as "small townism" and never thought more about it anymore until after the wedding. WEDDING PLANS Betty and I continued to keep in contact while I was back in college and occasionally visited me on campus. All my buddies were more than envious of me for have such a beautiful babe. Every opportunity I got I visited her. Soon we were engaged and set the wedding for about a year later. This would give me time to graduate and get started on a job and get some cash in the bank in preparation for being married. She wanted a June wedding, so we set the date accordingly. Mother, Aunt Betsy, Betty, and Betty's Mom laid out the wedding plans. During the practice rehearsal, there was some mention of testimonials at a second reception. When I asked about this second reception, I was told it was a surprise and that I shouldn't bring it up again. I didn't. I just concentrated on having the gorgeous Betty becoming my wife and being able to exercise my conjugal rights as her husband. You see, Betty never let me have regular sex with her doing the entire time of our pre-marriage relationship. She claimed she took her own virginity when she was young. She said she never had a man's penis in her so she technically a virgin too, just without a hymen. I accepted that. She coerced out of me that I was also a virgin, which she later let me know that she knew from talking to my Aunt Betsy. She wanted us both to come to our wedding bed virgins. Prior to about six months before the wedding all she would let me do was kiss and do heavy petting. In the six months before the wedding she jerked me off and let me lick and suck her luscious cunt. Another thing that Betty surfaced that boosted my ego was her wanting a prenuptial agreement. This threw me for a loop until she explained her reason for desiring it. "Benny, you mean so much to me. I'm so afraid you'll tire of me or fall out of love with me once you know the real me. That's why I want you to not only say you love me but to contractually commit your self to me." I was flattered by such a gorgeous woman wanting me so badly that she wanted me to commit to her in writing. I was overwhelmed by her request. "Betty darling, you make me feel so wonderful. I'll gladly commit to you with a contract to love and cherish." I replied. "Oh Benny honey, thank you so much. I already went to see a lawyer on drafting it up. Here's a draft copy. If you are okay with it, we can go over and sign it together this afternoon." She said so sweetly and a slight bit of urgency. I was thrilled as I read the legalistic document and impressed that she'd gone so far as to ensure that I really loved her. I was not use to being the one worried about that. This all made my head swell with flattery and esteem. The prenuptial agreement basically only asked that I: 1) promise to love my wife; 2)respect her; 3) wait at least ten years before asking for or considering a divorce; 4)consummate the marriage sexually to my wife's satisfaction; 5) and accept all children born into the marriage as legally my own, without question. I was so thrilled at her desiring such assurance of my love for her. I quickly agreed to sign the document of love. GETTING READY FOR THE WEDDING "Yes Benny, your virginity is a precious and we have come up with a way of signifying it in the ceremony." My mother told me as she looked at the selection of tuxes. "What!" I cried out. I let my mother know that the meaning of the white on the Bride's dress was to signify that for the woman and that there was no need for me to reflect it for me. "In fact it's almost an insult for a man to even admit that he's a virgin, let alone advertise the way you're talking about." I blurted out angrily. "Betty's mom, your aunt and I think it's an excellent idea, so you don't have any say so. You will be proud of being a virgin and that's final. There'll be no further discussion." Mother said as she signed the order for the white lace covered tux, which covered both the white jacket and trousers. It looked too feminine even for Liberache, for those of you who remember the famous flamboyant pianist. I was fuming, but shut my mouth, knowing my mother would not tolerate much more of an outburst from me. Also my Dad, signaled for me to be quiet. I'm sure he figured that mom would probably punish me if I continued to debate the issue, especially after hearing her say the "F" word, that is for "final". "Oh ma'am! I almost forgot this. The special item you ordered." The sales clerk shouted at mother as we three turned to walk away. Mother walked back to speak to her. The lady opened a box and held up something that was a very bright pink, almost a fluorescent pink. It was such a loud color. I only caught a brief glimpse of the "accessory", from the distance where I was standing. "Thank you, we certainly mustn't forget this." Mother said with a big smile after putting the small pink box in her shopping bag. On the way home, I forgot about the item, since I was still fuming about the tux. Later it was to come back and haunt me almost as much as the wedding has all these years. At home, when we had a chance to talk later, mother hugged me and let me know that I may be upset but that she wanted everyone to know that I was pure. Betty was very desirous of her doing so. I was surprised upon hearing this and contacted Betty. "Yes darling, I told your mom it'd make me so very happy to have you wear that lacy tux symbolizing your virginity." I again stressed that she could help matters by not letting me stay a virgin, but again for the countless time, she stressed she wanted us both coming to our wedding bed virgins. THE WEDDING The wedding went pretty flawless as well as the reception. After the reception, I was anxious for Betty and I to be by ourselves so I could better enjoy my new bride. But as we were driving away in the limo and I sought to be more amorous with my new wife, she kissed me somewhat coolly and told me to control myself. She let me know that a few of her friends were having a special reception for us and that she wanted to look presentable for them. She gave me light consoling kisses so as not to muss her makeup. "I can tell you're anxious to make love to me darling and I to you, but this second reception is going to be important to our marriage as well as proof of your love for me." She spoke in a strange manner that was a blend of being half serious and with a wistful expression I'd never seen in her before. THE SECOND RECEPTION. The second reception was some 15 miles away at a secluded retreat that was owned by the town for convention purposes. Betty let me know that one of her girlfriends who worked for the city was able to get it for a very minimal charge. This place was definitely out in the boonies. There were about two dozen cars on the lot when we drove up. However, the interior was very decorative and exhibited a typical convention style structure. Mother, Aunt Betsy, and Betty's Mom joined us and we began the formal march into the reception area, which could easily accommodate 400 people. As we entered the room, the crowd of about 30 burst out with a chorus of "For She's A Jolly Good Gal" as we walked through a planned opening in the crowd toward a predetermined location in the room. I smiled as I walked and thought it rather odd that such a song would be sung for newlyweds. Then as I focused more on the crowd, I also noticed there were far more men than women. I was mystified. In addition, as I was sizing up the crowd, several of the people we walked pass, hugged and kissed my new bride. The women pecked her on the cheek and embraced her. I had to do a double take as several of the men touched her low cut bodice, rubbed her shapely rear in the revealing wedding dress she was still wearing. It was also obvious that Betty was eagerly returning their sloppy, lingering, tongue in mouth kisses, as she passed from one man to the next. To say I was shocked was an understatement, especially since she didn't let me do her that way in the car coming over. One big handsome black guy, who looked to be over 6 feet and a hulk of pure muscle, wrapped his arms around her, almost picking her up and gave her a very passionate kiss. My bride returned the passion of the embrace as they hugged each other tightly as if they were the newlyweds. As I started to interrupt what I perceived as crossing the line of decency, mother held one of my arms and Aunt Betsy the other. I was so surprised at their strong grips. I thought they were stronger than me, but the way they held on to me, there was no doubt. "it's okay dear, it's just some of her old friends greeting her and wishing her the best." Aunt Betsy whispered. I looked at her and at mother with a bewildered look. There was a low roar of snickering and giggles from the crowd. It took us five minutes to walk 50 feet, with most of that time being devoted to repeated acts of passionate kissing and well wishing embraces, mostly by men on the edges of the crowd. That was the longest five minutes of my life. I was beet red in the face and so was Betty, albeit for totally different reasons. In addition, the many touches and feels on her bodice was apparent from the reddened images of handprints on the part of her breasts that were exposed. I was livid and almost too shocked to say anything. I'm sure my bewilderment and public humiliation was obvious to the smiling smirking snickering crowd. Mother and Aunt Betsy were holding me tightly as they gripped my shoulders and literally held me motionless. I tried to find out what was going on, but was told repeatedly to be quiet. I spotted my father in the crowd, and he too signaled me to be quiet. We finally made it to our table. A chum girlfriend of Betty's stepped out of somewhere up to the nearby mike. "To the newlyweds, our best wishes. We are gathered at this special private reception so that many of Betty's closet and intimate acquaintances can wish her well and also congratulate her new husband on the catch he's made. We will have testimonials from a host of people in the audience. We asked that they be no more than a few minute each. Thank you." A line formed around the wall toward the mike. There must've been about twenty people in the line to give testimonials. I'd never heard of such a thing at a wedding reception, so I didn't know what to expect. What came out of their mouths was like a series of bomb blasts, each hitting ground zero. TESTMONIALS I don't remember exactly what the first man said, but the theme was repeated over and over again for almost a straight half hour as each person in the crowd took their turn at the mike to offer their testimonial. There were a few women, the others mostly men. What follows is just a sample of what I remembered when I wasn't feeling faint. One man: "Yeah, my dick was so hard it felt like it was going to break. That night when I couldn't find nobody to give me some, I finally called Betty and once more she came through. She told me to come on over and that it might be a short wait, but she was sure she could work me in. When I got there I was number six in line, but as usual it was worth the wait. Even though tired after having helped out 13 fellows before me, she gave me a great fuck and got all the cum out of my dick. Benny, you've got a great gal there. She's a great piece of ass, I can tell you that." Another man testified. "I had just come back from being on the road for two weeks and had a throbbing boner. I meant it needed some serious fucking to cool it off. I though about seeing one of the whores at the truck stop, but then I remembered Betty, who was always free and whose hobby was making hard dicks soft. Whether by sucking or fucking, she's a mighty fine lay you lucky fellow. The man said looking directly at me as I stood still not believing what was going on. Another testimonial. "She always parted her legs for me and always got me off real good too. I could always count on soaking my dick in her juicy snatch until I was satisfied. You truly are a lucky stiff Benny." And another man: "One of the best sluts I ever been with. She's got one juicy hot good pussy." A woman came forward next: "Betty I think back to that homecoming game when you and I let both football teams pull a train on us. I'll never forget how we worked until we got every one of the dicks soft." The woman was apparently a slut chum of my new wife. And then another black man: "Betty, we're really gonna miss you down at the pool hall, where you'd just dropped by and would give us some ass or blowjobs, just for the asking." As the testimonials were in process, I had at least at two stiff drinks. While not accustomed to hard whiskey, these were rather welcomed. Mother and aunt were by my side and making sure I stayed in place. My new bride, all aglow in her ornate lacey white wedding gown, sat across from me. She reveled in the testimonials she was receiving and occasionally glanced in my direction, especially as each man, who'd previously given his testimony came by where we five - mother, dad, Aunt Betsy, Betty and I - were sitting. The various men each gave her some of the juiciest French kisses I'd ever seen. Kisses far more passionate than she and I had ever done together. To add total insult to injury, she sometimes winked at me while she and the men exchanged their sloppy kisses. No matter what excuse I came up with or how much I squirmed, my aunt and mother wouldn't lessen their grips on my poor shoulders or let me depart. I sat their stewing in my own perspiration and shame. The burning of the many pairs of eyes on me didn't help matters in the least. Helpless, I resigned myself to be a prisoner of my predicament. My mind was totally distraught. Surely my family couldn't expect me to stay married to Betty now. My father sat quietly, with a fake smile on his face, but doing nothing to aid me. In fact, he repeatedly whispered for me to "Settle down son. It'll all work out". Finally the testimonials were over. I was hoping to leave as soon as possible. Surely, there was nothing else to be done. I was in no mood to mingle with these well wishers, not even with my new "technically a virgin" bride. `What a fool I've been' I mentally sighed to myself as I sat there. I also wondered what was the next step for me, especially since I truly loved Betty. She was the dream girl I was ready to die for. Now, our dream life was starting off as the worst nightmare of my life. Just then, another drink was placed in front of me by Mr. Haskle of the local pharmacy near my aunt's house. He whispered something to my aunt as he did so. He then got around to me. I wish he hadn't. "Congratulations Benny. It's a time to enjoy yourself. Drink up and be merry, after all you do have a beautiful new bride." I just glared at him angrily as I looked at his smirking smiling face. He finally left our table, but not before reaching over to squeeze my new bride's boobs. She only smiled as if she appreciated it. After that, I gulped down the drink he'd brought. I at least got mom and Aunt Betsy to give me enough freedom to sip on the new drink in front of me. This orange punch had a good taste and I drank it all. Moments later I was surprised at relaxed and mellow I was feeling. I felt like closing my eyes, which I did for a moment as I experienced a strange funky buzz, which apparently the orange punch gave me. I felt a kiss on my lips. It was my new bride. "Darling, isn't this wonderful for all my old friends to congratulate me like this? I hope you're enjoying this as much as I." Even though less uptight than before, I still looked at her angrily, but said nothing. "I know, you have a lot of questions, but everything in due time." She said as she pecked me on the cheek again with what I perceived as a wicked smile on her face. She then moved back around to her seat opposite me at the round table. I had to close my eyes again, they were just too heavy. "That's it baby, just relax." I heard mom say as I lowered my eyelids. My eyes felt so much better closed. When I opened them a few minutes later, I glanced around and saw that most of the men were not nearby. `Thank goodness' I mentally expressed to myself. I noticed by the clock on the wall I'd been dozing for about twenty minutes, which both my father and mother confirmed, when I asked. Just then the mistress of ceremony finally came back to the mike. I prayed she was going to close the ceremony so we could get out of there. "Continuing with our salute to the newlyweds and to help them off to a good start on their lives together, it's now time for the bride, our sweet lovable Betty, to once again let her friends salute her in their favorite way. Y'all come on out!" She shouted. What I saw next, I couldn't believe and thought I was surely drunk. There were at least a dozen men, all essentially naked, except for the three who wore T shirts, pushing a bed out toward the head table where we sat. When the group of men arrived closer, I then noticed they all had one thing in common. They were all sporting the largest erections I'd ever seen. No man in the group had less than eight inches of stiff jutting dick meat that truly was in a salute posture. The bobbing wave of mammoth bloated shiny cockheads apparently excited my new wife as much as it horrified me. For she soon greeted them and eagerly received their groping and assistance in removing her wedding gown. I was terrified at the prospect of what I thought was about to happen. By the time she had gotten down to her undergarments- basically her white teddy, bikini crotchless panties, garter belt and white sheen wedding stockings - the woman at the mike asked for the group's attention. "Now that the fellows have shown what they intend to salute the bride with, I think it's only fair for the new groom to do the same. Are you ready Benny? That is to show us what you have in store for your new bride. Come on up and show us your virgin prick!" The laughter was a loud roar as an even greater horror gripped me. At the same time, I felt my aunt and mother helping me to stand up, all the while saying "It's time for you to show the men what you have for your new wife sweetie. Don't be afraid. Let them know you give good head also. Remember it's love that counts." I felt rather strange also. While able to stand up, I had no reaction as I felt my aunt removing the cummerbund, my belt and letting my pants fall to the floor as I stood facing the crowd. I had no will or desire to resist what was being done to me. I knew then I'd been drugged. I next felt my shorts pushed down and something slipped around my waist and looped around my small prick. I soon heard another louder roar of laughter as my new wife came over to me and handle whatever it was on my exposed prick which felt like it was erect, but I really couldn't tell in the state I was in. "Thank you so much darling for saving your self for me. It's so wonderful of you to wear a lace and satin pink ribbon bow on your little thing to signal to me and the world that it belongs to me and that you'll be faithful and true to me. You look so lovely and cute with the ribbon on your cock and balls. As you can see, you can't compare with the other men I've been with, but we'll talk about that some more later. And forgive me for telling you I was technically virgin, but we'll talk about that also. But first darling, the guys have gone through so much trouble to help me have a good time on my wedding night, I would be remiss not to put out for them tonight. Look upon it as them helping you out, since you see first hand they're better equipped to do so. You go on back to the hotel honeymoon suite and I'll be back sometime tomorrow. I hope they're through with me by breakfast time, but don't worry, there will still be enough left over pussy for you and your little fellow there. I know it won't take much for you. Love you darling." Betty walked away after pecking me on my forehead as I stood there looking like the biggest fool alive. I was still in a state of confusion but felt my sense of control coming back to me, slowly but surely. I was then paraded to the back of the room and out the door. You see, mother and my aunt had me step out of my pants, which dad picked up. I ended up walking out with no trousers and the bright pink symbol of "virgin purity, faithfulness and love" wrapped around my small erection, which I couldn't wish down. This of course was done amidst a chorus of loud laughter from the assembled group. Before I departed the room, through my watery, humiliated tear laden eyes, I could see the orgy scene where my wife had two huge cocks comfortably in her and was happily being screwed on the open bed. The crowd cheered her own. I was never so glad to leave such a place and feel the night air on my exposed parts. I was allowed to dress in the limo as we returned to the hotel. THE RIDE BACK TO TOWN As the limo left the hall, the drug had worn off. My folks admitted that they had enlisted the pharmacist for a little sedative to help me make it through the reception. I was nevertheless still angry and feeling utterly humiliated and disgraced. I couldn't help crying as if there was no tomorrow. My mom and aunt consoled me. No matter what was said, I felt less than two inches high. All I could say was "Why"? I wasn't sure I understood or liked the answer. "Benny honey, it's pretty much the same reason people go on national TV, like the Jerry Springer Show. They can get what's on their chest off in an open forum, and if their mates accept it, they know that person really loves them for the person they are, and accept that their past is not important. That's the same reason this was done to night. Yes, your new wife is a slut. She wanted you and you loved her. She wanted the wedding and so did we." Mother said as we drove the dark distance back to town. "And Benny dear, the idea of the pink jockey was my idea. I thought it was a prefect compliment to your laced tux. Now everything is out in the open, her past, as well as your capability to take care of her in bed." "B-But Aunt Betsy, w-why did my p-p-penis have..." "Have to be exhibited in your pink ribbon and lace cock strap? Well dear nephew, it was to get you over worrying about other men and whether you had an advantage or disadvantage over them in the fucking department. Now you know about them, and they know about you. Everything is out in the open. You see they're better equipped to give her what she needs, so therefore you should be ready to accept the idea of her getting you help to take care of her needs while you remain faithful and loving to her while not interfering with her plans to obtain sexual satisfaction." FATHER SON TALK Later that evening as I settled down to get some sleep and compose my shattered emotional state. Father came by to see me. We Talked. "Yes son, your aunt and mother do have a point. I Know you were somewhat tricked, but it was for your own good. The women were just trying to help you out." "Some help." I replied. "Now I'm married to the town slut, and to boot, I signed that prenuptial agreement which basically says she can sue me for everything if I try to divorce her or annul the marriage in less than ten years. I'm the laughing stock of the town." "Son, just as your aunt said, you should just think of her as more experienced than you and not in a negative way. They are right though. A decent, caring, faithful, and loving husband and a slut wife, are a good match. For only a wimp could love such a woman enough to put up with her needs." "Her needs!" "Yes son. Her need to be unfaithful and knowing she'd always have a loving faithful husband to come home to when other men, her so called real men, are through with her. She needs their rough manliness but she direly needs your loving and caring kindness. Yes son, you are the one to provide that to her." MAKING A GO OF IT My new bride returned to our bridal suite about six AM and crawled into bed. Her movement woke me. "Hi love." She spoke as she kissed me. "Miss me?" "B-Betty?" I spoke rubbing my eyes. I let my mind settle a moment. I wanted to jump right into interrogating her as to why I was treated so disgraceful by her and the others. However, but the way she looked, tired, and frazzled, but still beautiful, seemed to signal to me that this may not be the time for my twenty questions. Knowing that she was so much more sexually experienced, even in a negative way, intimidated me. I felt so much less confident in sexing her than before I knew about her lively past. "Benny, don't ask any questions just yet. Lets make love now. We can talk about the other things on your mind later. Lets just be man and wife. I do truly love you, otherwise I wouldn't be here now. What you saw me do with the other men was just a physical thing. What we have is the real thing." As I started to speak, she put her finger to my lips and pulled me into her arms. We passionately kissed. Her breath exhibited a faint, but keen smell of jism. I pictured the huge cock I last saw in her mouth as I was walking out of the reception last night. My need to be with, touch, and feel her was great. So the flavoring of other men's cocks and cum was overlooked as I enjoyed my first real French kiss with my new wife. The kiss was still very good. Her hand soon found my "smaller than she was use to" erection. Soon afterwards we were both nude and I shuddered as I entered her juicy, but loose, very warm pussy. It was so good to be in her and on her. As I stroked my five incher in her, I groped and kneaded and sucked her gorgeous tits. It was only afterwards that I detected that I'd probably lapped up some splattered dried jism from her erect nipples. I also noticed the imprint of other's hands on her tender white flesh. There was no doubt I was getting my new wife after she'd been thoroughly used. LIFE GOES ON Betty let me know she loved me enough to enforce the terms of the prenuptial agreement and sue me, if I tried to divorce her over the reception incident or the fact that she was still sexing other men regularly. The reason for the latter was that she deemed my small size and lack of stamina in her cunt did not meet her minimum standard of sexual satisfaction. I checked with a lawyer and he agreed that due to my stupidity in agreeing to her terms as written, she was legally right, since it was left totally up to her to determine what was considered sexually satisfactory. In addition, in my state of love blindness, I also didn't read the small print where I agree that she could seek and obtain "sexual redress" from any man, or men, that could provide her with the level of sexual satisfaction she deemed acceptable, and that I couldn't provide. I was devastated at the situation I was in, but my folks didn't think it was all that bad since I had such a beautiful wife that loved me. A FEW WEEKS LATER AND A BUNDLE OF JOY ON THE WAY "H-H-Have a baby!" "Yes Benny darling, we're going to have a baby." Betty replied calmly, yet gleefully. "B-But how do you know that it-it's not. . ." "Not yours? Well, really I don't darling. You had as just as much a chance to knock me up as the other fellows, even though you only get yours last after they all get theirs first." "B-B-Betty! H-How could you do this to me? W-W-Why a- are you doing this m-me? I-I thought y-you w-were on the p-pill." "I quit three months before the wedding. I wanted our first born to be conceived on our wedding night." "B-But w-w-why. . ." "Why let them help you with our first born? Because I wanted to feel special when I got knocked up and put in a maternal way. I wanted it to be passionate and physically fulfilling when I conceived darling. Darling, I don't mean to hurt you, but I knew early on in our relationship, you couldn't give me the physical part of that special feeling. But I did know you could provide the emotional love and nurturing I needed in a marriage. Please don't fail me Benny honey, I really need your love. I've never had the love I know you can give me. The love of a good husband is golden. Anyway, you did participate in making this baby. Of course it was after they had me first, as you know. Sometimes the first one in may have the best chance, but who knows Benny dear, you could've beat out all the others." Her words made me feel horrified. I don't know if it was her words or the manner and tone of voice, but I could hardly respond to her for several moments as I again coped with this news that I wished I wasn't hearing. I was speechless as I tried to absorb what she's just said. I remembered my father's words about a slut wife and wimp husband being a perfect match. "B-Betty. . . I-I just don't know what to say. I-I-I just don't understand w-w-why y-you had to do this." "I did it because I wanted us to have the child from such a joy laden event. The guys were so sincere in their expressions about me. After you left I told the guys I was unprotected and wanted to start a family for us and that I wanted my conception to be passionate. They all did their best to make it so. And Benny darling, if it makes you feel better, to the man, they unanimously agreed you'd make a good dad and that whosoever baby it turned out to be, they knew the child would have a good home." I looked at my new wife as if she'd totally lost her mind. I was silent for a long moment. I wondered all sorts of things, but mostly why was this happening to me. "W-Well... I-I guess with everything else I've found out, I-I don't know why this would not be any different." I sighed in a resigned tone. "Benny darling, you're making more out of this than you should." "Oh Betty, I-I know I-I'm not in the same league as you. In fact I-I don't know if I-I can even hold the match to light a candle to your experience as compared to mine, which is virtually nil when it comes to sex. A-And to hear all those testimonials at the reception, a-as to how good you are in bed, well... well, a-and now to find out y- you're probably pregnant with another man's baby... a-and I-I had to wait until o-our wedding night to h-have you. I-I'm at a loss for words." "Do you love me Benny?" Betty said with the most sensuous look on her face. "I-I don't know w-what I feel now. I think I do. But Betty... I don't know if we are going to work out. It's been good to finally make love to you, but knowing that you need more than I-I can give you and that you have to have other men is-is so painful. Last night was just like all the other times since the wedding. After having intercourse, it still takes me almost an hour of sucking your pussy to satisfy you. My jaws ache, and my tongue was so tired I could hardly talk when you finally let go of my head." "Honey, that's more of a reason for us to stay married. You see, I need you and my other men. You do a better job than they can in the mouth department. You see they don't even try, because they know they aren't any good at eating pussy. You've got them beat. None of them eat pussy. You're good at what you do." I hated the idea of tasting and sucking up her other men's ejaculated sperm from her sloppy cunt, but she claimed she needed her pussy sucked when it was that way for me to get her off so well. Even though the physical taste wasn't that unpalatable, the mental effect left a bad taste on my mental state, both as a man and her husband. ANOTHER FATHER SON TALK "And yes son, as your aunt and mother have told you, you will have to change your attitude in order to make this marriage a success." "Y-You mean..." "Yes, it will include you having other men's generous loads of spent sperm as part of your routine diet. It will be necessary for you to suck out your new bride's well fucked and filled cunt. She likes other men's big dicks and she likes for you to tongue douche her afterwards. She needs and wants that. She's told you so. You have to accept that. You've already been introduced to the taste of jism on her breath and mouth as well as eating it from her pussy. As you know, it won't hurt or kill you. Like a lot of us wimpy husbands, the taste of her and her lovers' fuck slime will become a natural part of your life together." I could see the sincerity in my father's face. All I could do was sit and absorb what he was saying. He was definitely against annulment or divorce, not that I could afford to do so because of the prenuptial agreement. He went on to tell me how to put up with her, and accept my second or third or fourth fiddle role, and be happy about it. "And son, yes she'll probably have more children by other men. You have to adjust to that also. I'm sure you'll be the good husband and raise them as if they were your own biological offspring. Your mother and I will accept them as our grand children and will show them nothing but love." He and I talked for a long time and I listened intently. He told me he was saving some special information for last. I wondered what it was. Now I wish he'd never mentioned it. "So son, in summary, men will enjoy your wife in many ways. And lastly, any babies they leave in her will be yours to raise and care for. And I almost forgot, she or the men may require you to pay a stud fee as a further indication of respect to them." "Stud fee!" "Yes, your mother had me pay the father of your younger sister and brother $75 a week for the whole time she was pregnant with them." "Y-Y-You m-mean. . .? "Yes son, I'm not their real father. Your mother cuckolded me . . . a-and I was forced to accept it or lose her. I chose to stay and become her wimp husband, as a better man took care of her primary sexual needs. I did what I could with my much smaller, less sturdy tool, as well as my tongue to do my part. "He died a few years ago. And I know what else is on your mind. Yes, I'm your biological father. You must swear to never tell your younger brother and sister." I swore to him I'd never reveal this secret. "People thought I was working for extra money for the babies, but a good part of that was for her old boyfriend, her lover. He decided that the best job for me was working as a janitor cleaning public toilets. So you see son, we wimps have to pay a price to be with such beautiful women, but sometimes that's what love is all about." THE FORGIVEN As my and her family urged and recommended, I stopped thinking about leaving her and did whatever it took to make our marriage work. As I had expected, our first born, a boy, was not mine. The father turned out to be one of my new bride's favorite lovers from some time ago. He looks nothing like me, but a spitting image of his real dad. Again more humiliation for me to bear as people come by to see "our" first born. People have been nice and say the baby looks like my wife. My wife invites the real father over often to see his new son, so even though they don't say it, every one of our friends and neighbors knows the real story. Just as my father predicted, she has had other children by her many lovers, including one from a blackman. Shortly after our first born made his way into the world, she insisted I use a condom to improve my staying power, when we had intercourse. Then after a period of time when she was satisfied my staying power met her standard, she would let me enter her hot juicy twat, skin to skin. Each time she would do so, it wasn't long before she'd come up pregnant. With our second child I thought sure the baby was mine, she didn't say otherwise. I didn't find out until our daughter was born that I wasn't the father. Generally after she's had a baby and is able to resume intercourse, she would complain about my lack of stamina and relegate me back to using latex again for a period of time, usually until she gets pregnant again. Of course I have to admit, the rubber layer did help me improve my holding power, but not to the extent that I was any competition to her "real" men, her various big dick boyfriends, who always sexed her skin to skin whether she was on the pill or not. With the rubber, I often got a little bit over five minutes, without it, three minutes max. After this pregnancy cycle happened two more times, it finally dawned on me what was going on. I remembered some of what my father said about the thrill slut wives get from fooling their husbands and presenting them other men's babies. She always had a good excuse for why I didn't get her pregnant, but it seemed to make her so happy at the thought of cuckolding me in a most blatant and permanent way. I could see it in her eyes and on her face. I never said much, but accepted her explanations. It took me a while, but I came to the conclusion that the reason she loved me so was because she got such a thrill from cuckolding and humiliating me so abjectly. My family made no difference in the kids and were constantly observing to made sure I didn't either. I didn't. It wasn't in me to be that low. After the fifth child by an outside lover, I pretty much resigned myself as to what my place was in the marriage, just as my father before me had done in his. Incidentally, I only had to pay a stud fee to one of her lovers, the one she admits she is currently pregnant by with "our" sixth child. I stood up to him and refused his demand that I take a part time demeaning janitorial job, as my father had done. I let him know I had no plans to take such a menial job just to pay him the fee he demanded, and my wife encouraged, for siring our latest bundle of joy. I showed him and my wife that I was not to be walked over totally and that I was still a force to be reckoned with in the household. Instead, I negotiated with him and her on this matter. The negotiations didn't turn out the way I wanted, but I felt good about not having to do something like clean public toilets like dad. I do have to pay the fee to him and I do work to earn it. You see, he requires me to dress in drag and suck cocks for him on the weekends at XXX theaters and peep shows. ###END### Send comments or future story ideas to CDE at [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c 1998 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(MM+/F, MM, MF, Inter, FemDom, MDom) WARNING: DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE STORY: COMPANY CUCKOLD --PART 2; CONTINUED FROM PART 1 BY C.D.E. CHAPTER 7: BEING DENIED I worked so hard cleaning the office that evening. My anger over my paycheck was no longer raging, but more like cool lukewarm. I had become pretty efficient at performing my janitorial duties and working the office cleaning schedule. Tonight however, Joe wanted a new coat of wax on all the tile floors as well as his office carpet shampooed. I hated big Joe for what he and my wife were doing and had done to me. However, it was odd, but I couldn't help but admire his confidence, good looks, the masterful dynamic way he carried himself, and of course the way he pleased my wife and seem to have her under his control. I understood why I was so intimidated by him, but yet couldn't understand why I continued to be a total fool for him. I knew my wife's feeling for him was partly the reason. However, whenever he would speak or order me around, it just seems that it was the right thing to obey him. It was late. I was tired, but yet horny. As I walked in the door, the smell of heavy sex was strong. I could tell by the disarray of the front room that there had been more than one man here doing the evening to see my wife. This in itself was not unusual. I suspect she was still up waiting to feed me the some of the results of her evening's sexual activities. She'd been so busy sexually with Joe Benson, who was her favorite stud, and other friends and business associates of his, that she and I hadn't had normal intercourse in over two months. I however, had lost track of how many times I'd eaten her out. If she didn't have time to help me masturbate, I had to pull my own self, usually while being home alone. Since, it was my good fortune that she was home tonight, I decided to raise the issue of money some other time and concentrate on sex tonight. I found her in the bed reading. We greeted each other warmly. If I didn't know any better, I never would've thought this was the same person I discussed money with earlier in the day. I got a bite to eat and a shower. In the shower I practiced in my mind what to say to her. She didn't look tired. I knew she wanted me to put my mouth on her pussy. I suspect it was still moist and somewhat slimy from being with her real men. We kissed as I slipped in bed. It felt so good to be beside her. Like this, she could do no wrong. She was my angel, no matter if she was my tormentor other times. As usual, I went down on her first as was our routine. I was right, her luscious pussy was juicy and loose. She told me two of the managers at work had stopped by since they knew I was going to be quite busy that evening. Being multi-orgasmic, she got off twice under my tongue.. She praised my pussy eating. It made me feel good when she did that and compared it to the fucking pleasure of the black men who'd fucked her earlier. It was time. I nervously asked her. Surely she couldn't refuse me tonight. All the vibes just seemed right. My little prick was not only throbbing but burning. I needed the feel of hot wet raw pussy. "OH honey, I was so hoping you'd gotten to like our routine and wouldn't ask me that." "W-Why?" I asked puzzled. "Well, you seemed so pleased eating me and so satisfied with me jacking you off, or you doing it yourself." "Well, that was only because you said you were so tired or just not in the mood to let m-me put it in." I replied, still puzzled about her attitude. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to tell you this. I thought it all would just work out like everything else seems to be doing." "I-I still don't understand." "You see darling." She said softly as she reached down to unbutton my pajama fly. "As I've told you before, it makes me feel so good to have you sucking and eating better men's sperm out of my well fucked slimy pussy." "Yes-Yes. I-I know I-I can't compare to them." I said softly. Not feeling excited about once again admitting to my inadequacies. "Honey, Joe and the other fellows in the office think that is all you deserve." She said as she finally got my fly totally unbuttoned. She pushed my pajamas away so as to have free rein to my prick. A penis much smaller, and of a different color, than she was currently accustomed to handing. "I-I know they don't think much about me and I-I guess I-I can see their view ." "Honey what I'm trying to tell you is, that's all they want you to do. They told me that you are not to put it in any more." I still don't know what happened to this day, but before my lovely wife even placed her soft dainty hands on my aching prick, I shot a load. It was so forceful and felt so good, I had to rest a moment to catch my breath afterwards. She grabbed my dribbling little cock and continued jerking me off. When I looked up, she had the most wicked, but beautiful smile on her face in the dim bedroom light. "I-I don't know what happened. I-I ." "Are you sure darling?" She giggled slightly while still holding my shrinking prick with her hand all covered with my plentiful sponk. I apologized for the mess. She kissed me on my forehead and consoled me as I wiped her hands clean. "That's quite alright honey. I'd say you were just agreeing with Joe and the others. At least your body was." I was at a loss for words. She knew I was so ashamed. We both knew I was no more good tonight and probably not for a couple or three days. My body had betrayed me or was it some sort of mental trigger I didn't understand. We talked some more, before we both went to sleep. Before drifting off, she let me know that she felt an obligation to abide by what Joe and the other men in the office wanted, that is to deny me from putting my prick in her juicy cunt ever again, except maybe on my birthday. "Darling, why don't you and Joe have a man to man talk about it." My wife yawned as she went sound asleep soon afterwards. Even though tired, I didn't drift off to a fitful sleep for another hour. CHAPTER 8: AN APPOINTMENT WITH THE COMPANY PRESIDENT It took me a week, but I finally got up the courage to go see Joe Benson. I was going to ask his permission to let my wife give me some pussy for my aching prick, as opposed to just being able to penetrate her adulterous and well fucked, but gorgeous sex, with my tongue. I asked his secretary for a late appointment, that is after everyone was gone for the day. My purpose was to do what I had to do without my other co-workers around. She did. I had practiced what I'd planned to say and felt good about my strategy of seeing him when all the others would be gone. I settled into taking care of two assignments I had to do for purchasing. Just as I completed one, in walked Joe Benson. "Hi Peter!" "Afternoon Mr. Benson." I replied as he headed to the urinal nearest my desk and unzipped, pulling out his long thick dark penis. "I understand you wanted to see me this evening. Can we talk about it now? I might leave a little early today." He spoke as a thick stream of urine was expelled from his fire hose of a cock. I turned my head so as not to be watching as he discharged himself. "It-it's a private matter s-sir. I-I can wait until tomorrow." I replied nervously. "You don't have to turn your head, I don't mind you looking at my dick." He chuckled as my face turned slightly red. He knew he was embarrassing me and seem to enjoy it. "But seriously." He said as he paused and shook drops from the slit of his giant length of black manhood. "Can't we talk about it now? After all there are few secrets between us or the others in the office. Think of us as a big happy family." Just then two other men walked in and spoke as they went to relieve themselves. "Hi Joe. Peter." "Joe. Peter." "I-I know Mr. Benson, b-but I-I'd like to t-talk to you in private." "Oh, . I see. Is it about you and Paula?" "Well, er ., yes sir .. but I-I can wait until tomorrow. Really, I-I can." I could see the two other black managers at the urinals listening intently as I nervously stammered out a reply. "Well Peter, you shouldn't be nervous about talking to me about you and your wife, after all I am fucking her. Of course you know that from all of my dick cum you've eaten out of her." His vulgar blunt comment caught me off guard. My face turned even redder. I was stunned and searching for words to stop him from continuing going down the road he was heading. "It wouldn't by chance be something about me telling her not to give you any, except, maybe your birthday? And that's of course, is if she's up to it and you've been good enough to deserve it." I could see the other men at the urinals smiling as Joe Benson continued talking. I was so heated and flush now. As I stewed, feeling so angry and yet highly intimidated at him, it dawned on me that I had an erection that was palpitating. "P-P-Please Mr.-Mr. B-Benson .. can we please talk later. I-I ." "What's else is there to talk about? Your wife is my whore and loves it. She does what I tell her . just like you. What else is there to discuss?" "P-Please Mr. B-B-Ben ." "Maybe you need to hear it from her." He said cutting me off as he sat on the edge of my desk and used my phone to dial Paula on the intercom. He put one of his feet in the side chair that was in front of my desk. I wanted to get up and run out of there and never come back. I felt my prick straining against the fabric of my trousers. Anyway, I was trapped from leaving because of the way I'd positioned my desk, in order to partially shield me from viewing the urinals all the time. The only way out was over the desk. But with my erection, even though small compared to all the other men in the office, it was stiff enough to show a tent pole in my pants if I got up to walk. "Paula sweetheart! Come in the men's room, your husband's office. We have to have a talk with him. Okay, bye." He hung up the phone forcefully. "She'll be right over." He said as he folded his arms sitting there on the edge of the desk. The other two men were washing their hands and chuckling as they dried them and left. I'd never felt so silly and again I sensed I was going to be put through another humiliating situation of some kind. To make matters worse, my cock wasn't supporting me. "Hi Joe darling!" Paula said cheerily as she walked in and kissed him juicily on the mouth. "Hello Peter." Was her greeting to me in a dead flat tone. "I haven't been in here in a while. I thought your desk was closer to the urinals honey." She said as she surveyed the restroom while still slightly embracing Joe Benson. "Paula, I think Peter wants assurance that you're my whore." "What part of me being a whore for him don't you understand honey?" My wife said looking me straight in the eyes. "Here let me show you Peter dear." She sat in the chair where Joe had previously put his foot, moved it right in front where Joe Benson was sitting on my desk. "Joe darling, I could use some refreshments, I've been working hard all afternoon. Please let me suck your big black cock. Please baby." As she spoke she caressed his crotch through the fabric of his expensively tailored suit. My eyes were glued to my wife as she begged him to let her blow him while I sat trapped. My cock pulsed as he gave her the okay and proceeded to zip down his fly and take his hardening big rod out. "Ooh Joe baby, I want it open crotch. I wantta lick your balls too." My wife cooed as she helped him slide his pants and shorts down to reveal the man's magnificent stalk of a penis and the dark patch of black pubic hairs at the base of his root. My cock was ready to explode at the sight as my wife looked straight at me as she licked the tip of his swelling member and lapped the pink dick head that had rapidly become bloated and shiny. She had never sucked my cock and here she was doing it so erotically as I was trapped to observe her ever so closely. The bad part was that I hated what was happening, but my cock had a mind of it's own. Nothing I did could wish it down. I tried looking away, but Joe Benson reached over and turned my head around to make sure I watched her bath and lave his big hairy balls with her tongue and lips. She even sucked one of his big balls and then the other in her beautifully lipstick covered mouth. The contrast of her white skin against his black hairy scrotum was quite a sight. "This is for your benefit. So don't turn your head." Joe Benson warned as my wife engulfed his large swollen golf ball size blood gorged dick head. I was so glad I was able to press down on my throbbing aching prick. It seemed as if it was going to rip through my pants, especially as my wife's sucking noise added to my discomfort. The juicy blow job she was giving is what I'd only dreamed about. Even though I suspected she sucked her lover's big black dicks, that is from the taste of her kisses, we never really discussed it. As she mouthed and slid her lips back and forth over his long thick shaft, I prayed I didn't come in my pants. The tension in the room was too much. My face was literally red. My other fear came to fruition as one of the salesman entered the restroom. He was about to excuse himself and go to one of the other restrooms, but Joe Benson invited him in anyway. He accepted. Used the urinal, but his eyes never left the scene in process before me. My wife seemed oblivious to it all as she went after her "refreshment". Moments later another co-worker entered. He offered to visit another restroom, but Joe waived him in. Again my wife never seemed to notice. "OOH! Suck it bitch! Yesss! That's it! Show your husband you're my slut! Yess! Swallow it all!" Moaned Joe Benson as he shot his hot wad of sperm down my wife's throat. I could tell it was a big load. She swallowed at least five times. It was no use, my prick pulsed at the sight of her actions. The release was so delightful. I hunched forward to try and hide the wave of pleasure that comes from such a good release. As I quickly got over the pleasure of what happened, I hoped no one noticed and I hoped everyone would leave to give me a chance to clean up before my prick goo soaked through the cloth. It seemed my wife milked his penis forever before giving it a loving kiss and letting Joe redress. The two co-workers left to go and get their secretaries to give them the same treatment that my wife had just given. I'd never seen a blow job given in such a blatant manner or in such an open location as my wife had done. I'd heard that it often happened in the back of the office where there were several storage rooms. "Well Peter, does that answer your question. Do you still need to talk to me?" Joe Benson asked with a big smile on his face as my wife licked her lips, capturing an errant cum drop that almost escaped as she was swallowing his bountiful wad of viscous semen. I meekly shook my head acknowledging that there was no need. "And Peter, if you think you are deserving of getting some on your birthday, 30 days prior, I want you to send me an inter-office memo justifying why I should permit your wife to let you put it in. Send it through my secretary so she can check it for format and grammar. Also, make sure it's coordinated with the other managers by getting their signature approval, including your wife. If anybody non- concurs, I won't even look at it. Understand.?" Unbelievably stunned one more time by him, all I could do was nod acceptance of his stringent and ridiculing conditions for just a once a year session with my lovely "slut" wife - and then only if she wasn't busy with him or other men and if she felt like giving me some. I was so mentally beat, I was exhausted. Having come also drained me too. "Well honey, did you enjoy that as much as we did." My wife said looking straight at me. When I was slow to respond she reached right over the desk and grasped my crotch and began feeling for my prick and rubbing where I'd come in my pants. Caught off guard by her sudden unexpected action I sought to prevent her from further exploration by grabbing her arms. As I did so Joe grabbed both of my hands with just one of his giant strong hands. I wiggled and begged him to let me loose. Meanwhile, my wife was able to discover that I'd shot off in my shorts. "OOH! You did enjoy seeing me suck off his black dick. Look Joe, he shot off in his pants." As I struggled with Joe holding my wrists, her continued rubbing had forced the absorption of the sticky goo into the outer fabric of my trousers. It was too late. The stain was evident and sticky. "Ha! Ha! Ha!" Joe roared as he let me go and left telling my wife he'd see her later. "See you later Joe darling." Spoke my wife as her handsome smug black lover left us two alone. She never removed her hands away from the damp spot on my pants. I was so ashamed, I stopped fighting her. I knew I was beaten. She and Joe both knew I had no will to confront them in their subjugation and abasement of me. "That was so sweet of you dear. And such a cute way to let me know you approve of me being his slut. Here, you deserve a nice kiss." She gave me a deep juicy French kiss. She stuck her tongue deep in my mouth and made sure I sucked on it before breaking the kiss. The taste of Joe's thick semen was obvious by the slimy film and seminal odor of her breath. The kiss made me feel better, but I was still flustered in the state I was in. She finally removed her hand. However the spot was rather large on my trousers now. It was at least a four inch diameter circle. As she went over to one of the sinks to wash her hands and rinse her mouth out, I proceeded to one of the stalls to attempt to clean up the mess I'd made on myself. "Peter, come with me, I want you to get a file from Peggy on the other end of the office." "O-Okay, er, y-yes ma'am. I-I'll do it just after I-I clean up and ." "Now! Peter dear. You can do that later. There's work to be done." I gave her an incredible look. "B-But they-they'll see ." "Precisely." My wife said as she looked at me with folded arms. "They'll see a husband whose proud to exhibit proof of his approval that it's okay for me to date and sex other men. Being so secure in your manhood, even though not great, can't help but generate more respect for you Peter dear." I parted my lips to rebut her, but the stern, in-command look, and stance she took, as she stood before me, was my signal that she would not take no for an answer. "Now go!" She said extending her arm straight toward the door. "Or do I need Joe to come in here and push you out there." I got to moving, knowing full well I didn't want to face his intimidation again. I prayed people would be too busy to look. That was wishful thinking. All eyes were on me as I existed the door. Time I passed the first desk going toward Peggy's desk I heard "He did come in his pants, just like Joe said. Imagine a husband shooting off in his pants as his wife gives her lover a blow job right in front of his face. What a wimp." Peggy made me wait for the file. It was the longest two minutes in my life as the others looked at me and snickered or giggled but never said anything directly to me. I finally brought the file back to my wife's office. She was back at her desk in a very business like posture. As I was leaving, she let me know that Joe Benson was coming over to our house tonight. "Come in the back door honey, and if he's still there when you come home from tidying up here at the office, go ahead and sleep in the guest room. I'll wake you up when he leaves." She told me with her head still looking down at what she was working on. "Y-Yes ma'am." Was all I said as I started out to give the office gawkers their last look at my "proof of approval" as I made it to my men's room office. That night it took me four hours to give the office a good cleaning, as called for on the schedule. I was beginning to take a certain pride in how well I kept the office and rest rooms sparkling. I wondered if that was all part of being subjugated so much by Joe Benson and my wife that I was beginning to see them as doing me the favor of letting me be degraded by them as well as work like a slave for them. CHAPTER 9: CLEAN UP MAN When I arrive home, it was after Nine O'clock. I went in the back door as my wife had requested. I knew that she had company in the bedroom. There were two cars out front. I recognized them as Joe's and another manager at work named Reggie. There was the unmistakable noise of heavy sex coming from the master bedroom. As I got myself a bite to eat, I heard my wife call out asking if that was me. I replied it was and only heard the resumption of more sexing a few moments later. I was in luck, my wife had put two doggy bags in the fridge. I suspect they were where she and Joe and Reggie had been out to dinner. The warmed leftovers were very filling and tasty. I could tell they were from an expensive restaurant. I cleaned up the kitchen and tidied up the living and family rooms. Joe and Reggie's suits were strewn over the sofas in the family room. I gathered them up and placed them neatly on hangers and placed them on hooks in the hall outside the master bedroom. Where they knew to find them. This was not new to them, or to me. when any of the office men, or their black friends came over to screw my wife, I routinely hung up their tossed clothing. I then went to the guest bedroom and took a shower in the main hall bath. As I let the warm refreshing water stream over me, I recalled the events of the day. I concluded my humiliation and degradation had been great, but in a strange way, having made it through seem to fortify me for yet another day. When will it all end? What was wrong with me, I thought to myself as I was drying off. By this time, I heard Paula's two guest leave. I distinctly heard Joe say "Tell your husband, we left plenty of creamy desert for him to eat." To which my wife replied "Thank darling, I'm sure he'll appreciate both of you doing that for him." I was out of the shower and in my PJs when she walked into where I was. She was dressed only in a sheer see through robe and had milky colored cum trails down the inside of her thighs and legs. It was a common sight for me. She looked used, but beautiful. Her black big dick lovers were through using her, so now she could be my wife again. "Welcome home honey." She greeted me as she brought her used jism leaking body to me. Her kiss as usual was delicious to me, even though her breath reeked of jism. The taste was slightly stale and more pungent than when she sucked on Joe at work today. I presumed because she had been at it longer and had two big black dicks to work on tonight, while I was cleaning up the office. "Honey bunch, you'd better kneel and hurry up if you're going to get all the wonderful cream Joe and Reggie left for you. It's almost down to my ankle on this leg." My wife said as she placed her foot on the bed which stretched her crotch and gave me a better view of just how messy her hairy snatch was. Indeed the combined melded thick jism of the two studs was running in thick viscous trails along her luscious inner legs and thighs. I knelt as she suggested and began my licking at the place she'd mentioned. I lapped and sucked up the spent slimy sperm and continued doing so until I reached just above her knee on the leg propped up on the bed. I next began on the other leg just above the top of her ankle. I went from one leg to the other until I was within six inches of her sloppy oozing snatch. She then stopped me. "That's good for now. At least it won't stain the carpet. Let's go to bed so I can relax while you eat the rest of your dessert they made for you." As we walked toward the master bedroom, she circled her arm around my waist and offered me another jism tasting kiss. I couldn't refuse her. I knew if this was the only way to have her be loving to me, then I'd take it. After keeping my head buried in her crotch for at least a half hour and two orgasms for her, she finally let go of my head. All the while I was eating her swollen ripe reddish well screwed sex, she found various ways to remind me of the wonderful stuff our boss and co-worker left for me to eat. After washing my face and brushing my teeth to clear the mucky gooey build up on my gums and teeth, I rejoined my wife in bed. We kissed and cuddled up as if two newlyweds. My cock was hard but not to the point where I needed to come. I'd come this afternoon and therefore was in no need of getting off again so soon. Of course, I thought it was just as well since it was obvious that, my only recourse would be to my hands, or if lucky, my wife's hands. Nevertheless being cuddled up with her, I savored the moment of knowing that she was mind if but just these few moments. I hadn't plan to bring up the events of earlier today. I'd just resigned myself to the role that both of them had clearly let me know was mine. I was tired and on the verge of drifting off to sleep when she decided to talk. "Darling, Joe and I didn't mean to be too hard on you, but sometimes the best way to get a point across is by demonstration." She cooed as she played with the hair on my head. "I-I understand dear." I replied meekly, trying not to look in her face. I really didn't want to be reminded of the ordeal I'd experienced at work today. "You shouldn't take Joe's action as personal, it's just his ego at work. By cutting you off, while he allows me to fuck almost anybody else, really boosts his self esteem. Men like him thrive on the feeling it gives them. You on the other hand are good at taking what he, and I too, dish out so that his ego can be nurtured and therefore kept healthy. And of course, you know what I've told you about how sexy he is when his ego is satisfied." "Y-Yes I-I do Paula." I replied wearily and nervously, as I went on to let her know all that was on my mind, since she'd opened up the conversation. "I-I know I can't compare with the way he and the other men c-can satisfy y-you in bed. I-I know I can't satisfy your needs like they can. And-and I-I-I've resigned myself to j-j- jacking off, if that . well if-if t-that's the way it has to be." "It is honey, but don't forget your birthday darling. But like he said, you'd better get your justification for putting-it-in, in early. And like he said, use an inter- office memo format and remember, it has to go through all the department heads and get their approvals before he'll even consider it." "I-I remembered. B-But as I was saying, I accept his conditions on our sex life. He and his friends are after all keeping you happier than I-I ever could." "They sure are darling." "A-and I've come to the conclusion he's not ready to move my desk out of t-the men's room yet." "No, he's not honey. It may be a while." She added matter-of-factly. "B-But do y-you think he'd find someone else to do the office cleaning? Being new, I-I didn't mind helping out for a while. I accepted his explanation that it was a small company and that we all had to do a little extra to keep the ship afloat. B-But Paula, I've been doing this for over three months now. I'm working 10 to 12 hours a day, not to mention when he wants me to go in on Saturday or Sunday and shampoo the entire office carpet and strip off the old and put down new wax in the entry ways and halls. It-it's just too much dear. Could - could you please put in a-a word for me so-so ..." "No honey, you should talk to him about that. Are you scared?" "W-W-Well no, b-but y-you two g-get a-along so well, I-I thought you c-could ." "Just because he's fucking me, your wife, is no reason for you to be afraid of discussing such things with him. Ask him, he may let you off the office cleaning detail in a year or two." "A-A year? That . that long?" "At the earliest . you know depending on how your first annual job evaluation goes. But I must tell you honey, you do a great job on keeping the rest rooms and toilets sparkling. Everyone in the office compliments you on that. The maintenance company that serviced us before you were hired, had six people working at night and didn't come close to the super job you're doing." "Six workers? A maintenance company?". I said looking at her wide eyed. "Honey, he likes the idea of you doing that kind of work, especially while he and I are out dining or partying it up or somewhere screwing. And you're good at it too." "I-I guess I-I'll discuss it - it with him when I-I can catch him at -at a good time." I replied stammering and feeling dejected. "You do that dear." My wife said cheerfully. "Now lets get some sleep, we've got to go to work tomorrow." She said as she cuddled up closer to me. We were both getting sleepy, so this phase of our conversation seemed a natural conclusion point. As I drifted off to sleep, I thought about how I started to bring up the issue of my paycheck, but decided to leave well enough alone for now. I was still getting $30 a week "allowance" from my wife, while my check went into her bank account. For all the work I was doing, both for my regular job and the custodial duties, for the $30 a week, or $5/day, the money I was actually getting my hands on came to 50 Cents/hour on my short days and other times about 40 Cents/hour. I knew my wife had picked up that I was intimidated by Joe Benson. I knew it would take me time to work up enough nerve to ask him for relief from my "extra duties". For now, I resigned myself to the reality of things. It went without saying that it was clear now that Joe was the man in charge and that my role was pretty much that of the clean up man, both at work and at home. A role that my wife enjoyed seeing me in and one that boosted her lovers egos. CHAPTER 10: REARRANGING MY OFFICE It had been a week since Joe Benson, the president had demonstrated to me that my wife was truly his whore. It was Monday morning and I was just about to enter my restroom office when a workman with a drill came out. As I went in, I assumed he was just doing some normal repair work. When I entered, all I could do was stand there and look at what had been done. I was so upset I called Paula and told her I had to leave. The stress was now just too much. She hung up and walked over. I think it all looks great honey. What's the problem?" "P-Paula, I, . er, mean Ms. Morris. If-if you really love me, h-how can you let him continue to - to do t-this to me? I-I want out of this room. I-I feel so degraded and put down. Please ask him to move me. I-I know he'll listen at you." "Peter I do love you, it's just that it gives me so much pleasure to have you in such positions as you're complaining about." "Y-You mean humiliated don't you. Y-You like seeing me-me s-shamed and degraded horribly." I said in a broken voice. "No darling, I want to see how unselfish you are. To see how far you will go to prove your love to me since you can't do it in a more manly fashion like Joe or Jim or the other black men, that is with their robust cocks." "Paula, uh, Ms. Morris, . I-I'm sorry I-I can't give ." "And that's another thing, always saying you're sorry!. Well you are a sorry excuse for a man. A real man doesn't offer excuses, his actions speaks for themselves. Since you don't have prick power to show your love, you should leave that to more capable men and do what else you do best to please the woman you claim you love." "Oh I do love you. I'm doing the best I can. Just tell me what more is expected of me?" I asked pathetically. "For one thing, stop whining about your desk being in the john. Joe wants you in here. It's a boost for his ego. If he has a healthy ego about his masculinity, guess what, he screws me better. Hence by pleasing his ego, you're taking action to give your wife something you can't. See where I'm coming from Peter." "I-I see. I-I never thought about it l-like that." I said meekly, but still trying to understand her involved reasoning, which made sense except I knew something was wrong somewhere. "And also, I want you to be right here so you can be reminded each time they go to the urinal. You can look over and see what a real man has between his legs." "It-It was you who had ..." "Yes, it was me that had your desk moved closer to them and bolted to the floor, and the mirrors put up. I want you to have a good look each time one of the men come in here. I want you to view what makes me happy honey. I want you to get over any residual shame or shyness of knowing that I adore and need big black dicks. Understand darling?" She held my chin and looked me deep in the eyes with her soft eyes. Even though less than happy, I was terrified of that look and strangely I felt my prick erecting. "Y-yes I-I understand." I replied softly "And honey, I know it's difficult for you doing this transition period. That is, being man enough to accept responsibility for your shortcomings by doing other things to compensate for them. But the sooner you firmly accept your new role, and adapt, the easier it will be for you. Take for instance, if Joe sends you to find me and tells you, to tell me, he needs to fuck me, the sooner you see this as a routine thing. Therefore you will have less emotional difficulty. The same goes for when he calls you in later to clean up the mess he's made between my legs. Sure, the others in the office might still look at you funny for a while, even after all this time you've been here, or even laugh and call you a fool occasionally But you'll know deep down that you are doing what needs to be done to show your love and keep our marriage intact. It is the right thing for you to be a willing, eager and supportive cuckold. Understand?" I slowly nodded acceptance of what she said. "Good, I'm glad we had this little chat. And dear I want you to repeat to your self just what I told you about being a cuckold. Remember there is no shame in being a faithful cuckold to a wife that others might call a slut." She said as she kissed me on the lips, letting me know how much she loves seeing me ready to show her just how manly I'm going to be for her. I promised to not let her down, even though I would be lowering myself into the pit of humiliation. She was so beautiful at that moment she had gotten me to commit to being her total fool. EPILOGUE: Like my wife said, I did get more acclimated and use to being humiliated and accepting my place as her wimpy cuckold husband. As usual, each day after work, I become the office janitor, keeping the place spotless and cleaning all six toilets such that they shine. The big Black lady that comes by to supervise and check my work periodically, a cousin of Joe Benson, rewards me for a job well done by having me eat her big black pussy. I don't have much choice as she can give me demerits which will affect my job rating if I don't cooperate. Occasionally, her boyfriend drops by and fucks her some nights while I'm cleaning up. He shoots jism like a horse. She even had me milk his giant dick a time or two. Hence, I go home extra full of spunk sometimes. Only to usually having to suck up more from my wife's cunt when I get there. I've got quite use to "my office". With the extra mirrors my wife had put in, no matter where I turn, I can catch a glimpse of the men's big dicks as they use the urinals. She was right, seeing their big black cocks is a constant reminder of my shortcomings and helps me to be more accepting of my role of an understanding cuckold for her and her black lovers. Additionally, the men in the office had a staff meeting and voted more duties for me as part of my restroom attendant duties. When the elaborate and colorful sign was put up, Joe Benson handed me an updated job description with the new additional duty on it. I could only look at him with an incredulous look as I almost fainted back into my chair. The sign read "ATTENDANT WILL SHAKE AND STROKE DROPS FROM YOUR PENIS WHEN YOU ARE THROUGH AT URINAL, JUST ASK!" This has made me even more friendly with the men co- workers. Sometimes, my touching and shaking causes them to get an erection. They often blame me and demand that I suck them off. I have no choice, as my job description requires I do so if they get a hard-on. I really think it's unfair I have to Fellate them and swallow all their hot sticky gooey jism. You see the job description says I can't release their penises until they tell me when to stop shaking and stroking them. I contend that one, at maximum, three shakes is all that's required, with no stroking. By doing so, accidental erections would be minimized or eliminated. I wanted my job description changed to reflect this since Joe denied my request to eliminate the duty altogether. Many of the men have me shake and then stroke them until they get rock hard. They then order me to my knees to mouth them. It's so frustrating to be trying to do your work and having to stop and attend to the men as they visit the urinals and request a shake. Just having to shake urine drops off is time consuming enough, but blow jobs are even more time consuming. The worse part is that if a man walks in and sees me on my knees Fellating one man who "accidentally" got an erection, then sometimes the new visitor will get aroused after using the urinal. Even though he might've already shook himself, and is fully erect, he's still entitled to a shake with my hands. And the minute I touch him, I'm required to suck and swallow for him if he demands it. I finally got up enough courage to talk to Joe Benson about it. He said I had a good point and put it on the staff meeting agenda. I was so embarrassed when he turned the floor over to me, amongst the low level of giggles and snickering. But I gathered the courage to do so. After presenting my case as to why it was unfair and asked for the duty to be rescinded by the office staff, Joe asked me how could I know how long I needed to shake and stroke without relying on the owner of the penis to tell me all the pee was out of their big long cocks. I was at a loss for words and looked like a fool standing there silent. I knew he had me. My cock handling duty remained, as my motion to rescind was soundly defeated amongst a chorus of laughter. I felt so small and put down. You just don't know how it feels to be set up and humiliated, especially by the man that's fucking your wife and whom she calls her real man. THE END NOTE FROM AUTHOR: If you like these type fictional stories from me, feel free to send comments or some ideas for future story plots to C.D.E. at [email protected]

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright JANUARY 2010 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form or sold for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(Cuck, M+/F, MM, MF, IR, Impreg, FemDom, MDom) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Title: The Saga of George & Gail Author: C.D.E. (With Many Thanks For Ideas from Author Es2c) Story # 2010-04 CAST: George-Husband Gail-Wife "George, don't fret or worry, Gail will be careful." "I-I really hope so Mother Smith." I replied to my wife's mom. "You worry too much, just because she's accidentally gotten pregnant a few times is no reason to think it will happen every time she goes out with a fellow. Plus, with you acting as her oral birth control, if she should let a guy get in her panties, there is a lesser chance of her getting knocked up." "SIGH! B-But mother Smith, m-my sucking her p-pussy out d-doesn't seem t-to be foolproof. A-After all, t-that's why none of o-our 8 kids a-are mine." "I don't like your tone or you saying that! They most certainly are yours! You know both your mother and I both don't like you making any such implication. Sure you didn't put them in Gail, but you are the legal daddy of them all. So I don't want to hear that again, or I'll have to discuss this with your mother. Is that clear!" "Y-Yes ma'am. I-I w-won't ever imply t-that again. I-I'm so sorry. P-Please don't m-mention t-this to mother. S-She might g-get upset e-enough to w-want to spank me." "And don't forget, Gail or I might get tempted to lay a few strokes on your bottom too." "P-Please M-Mother Smith, f-forget I said w-what I-I did. I-I didn't m-mean t-to imply a-anything negative. Y-You know I-I love o-our children a-and w-would do anything for them... e-even t-though I-I'm n-not their real -f-father." "I know you do George, but it's good for you to be reminded not to be placing blame on Gail just because a better endowed man ejaculated in her and inseminated her. If anything, you share some responsibility too. That is for not effectively sucking all their jism out of her pussy." My mother-in-law replied curtly. "SIGH! I-I know M-Mother Smith. I-I try t-to do my best w-whenever s-she comes home wet a-and with sperm seeping a-and d-dripping from her crotch." "And as her husband, George that's the right thing for you to do. Right?" "Y-Yes ma'am, y-you're right." "And especially so since you're not able to satisfy her fully in bed. That's the reason she has to date other men, or I should say real men, understand?" "Y-Yes ma'am, I-I understand. I-I do love her, a-and I want her to have satisfying sex, e-even if I can't give it to her like she gets from h-her r-real men. I replied as I hung my head. As I headed home, I thought about all my mother-in-law and I had talked about. I have to admit though, that both she and my mom have gone out of their way to keep my pussy sucking at a high level of proficiency. They both let me suck their cum filled cunts to evaluate my snatch sucking efficacy. They both gave me high marks and are always giving me surprised evaluations. I just never know when they're going to present me with, or call and want me to come to them and suck their pussies clean of a load, or several loads, of slimy semen deposits. Gail's dad was instrumental in this arrangement, but more about that later. My vivacious wife Gail, is in no uncertain terms, a dick magnet, even after 8 babies resulting from 6 pregnancies - a girl; twin boys; a girl; a boy; a girl; and fraternal twins. Gail and I were 23 when we got married. I was immediately smitten with her charm, wit, and of course her stunning beauty. I was so excited that she paid attention to me a nerdy unassuming guy like me - but she did. She admitted that it was because of my plainness and unassuming nature that attracted her to me. She later admitted that my being sexually inexperienced also intrigued her. We became close friends, and then we started dating steady, and finally we became engaged. For reasons I'll reveal later, I knowingly accepted Gail dating other guys while were engaged. But after Gail and I got married, I didn't like the idea of her continuing to go out on dates, as she did when we were engaged. However, alas, I knew I was powerless to stop her. Another reason was that her first date after we were married was with my boss. He became quite possessive of her. I knew he was a cunt hound from the first time I met him and the way he talked at work. He all the attributes too. He was tall, muscular and handsome. Word was that he was well endowed too. He met Gail at a company social. After that he was hot on her trail. During our engagement, I discovered Gail had a weakness and tended to lose control - and her sexual inhibition - with such a handsome, brawny, and aggressive guy as my boss. To make a long story short, they had a short affair, and he's the biological father of our first born. Now, back to our engagement, that was when I discovered that Gail was cheating on me big time. And unbeknown to me, she had been feeding me traces of the many studs she'd been having intercourse with. A little explanation here, you see, before we were married, Gail would only let me lick and suck her pretty pussy. She showed me how to do that for her, for I was pretty naive in sexual matters, even at 23. She wouldn't let me put my throbbing prick in her luscious pussy, no matter how I begged and pleaded. She did however, like to watch me pull myself off. She was nice enough to expose her tits and delectable bush while she supervised me as I masturbated. And since I was fairly naive okay a virgin - and not that experienced in matters of sex, she took advantage of me, pure and simple. I was fat dumb and happy so to speak, about her brazen unfaithfulness. It was not until she came to me one evening with semen running down her inner thighs, did I have a clue that she was having sex with other men. George darling, I know what I did was wrong, but I went out on a date and our passions got out of hand. My pussy is loaded with his cum. Would you do me the greatest favor and suck it all out for me, otherwise I may get pregnant. If you love me, you'll do that for me. Won't you darling? Gail said to me in a forthright manner, but there was a strong sense of urgency in her voice. She pulled her soaked panties off and exposed her disheveled bush, which had obvious leakage trails from her pussy slot. My mind was a mass of confusion. I know you have many questions George, but this is not the time for them. It's time for action. So please darling, get your mouth down there on me and do what you do so wonderfully for me. Gail said in a most forthright tone. I decided to do as she requested, after all, the woman I loved had come to me in dire need of help. The situation demanded immediate attention and this was not the time for a bunch of questions that could wait until later. As I moved my head closer to her parted legs and my face was on the same level as her messy crotch. The sight was one I had never seen before. Her bush was messy, wet, and oozing. The gamy, but erotic smell hit me in the face. I paused to survey things before I dived in tongue first. However, before I could do any more surveying, Gail pulled my face right into her squishy hairy crotch and urged me on in my clean up of her well used snatch. I did love her and that was the reason I was doing this very unusual thing for her. I had never sucked pussy before I was with Gail, least of all one that was saturated with another man's sperm. But the more I sucked out the thick whitish goo that was melded with her ample pussy juices, the taste was a bit stronger, but it somewhat reminded me of the way her pussy tasted other times when she had me licking her pussy. However, despite the sight of her nasty looking sex, I was forced to admit that her used pussy was rather palatable, and added to that, her gyrations and grinding of her hairy crotch against my face as she still held my head tightly to her crotch I really felt a strange sort of pleasure in being able to thrill her and solve a dire problem all at the same time. Gail appeared to have had at least 2 orgasms during the course of my strong sucking session on her very wet pussy slit. After she pushed me away from her crotch, she and I both settled down and composed ourselves. I excused myself to wash my slimy wet face. I also had to clean up something else too. I didn't mention it to her I was simply too ashamed - but I had involuntarily come in my shorts in the process of my eating her out. When I returned I was anxious to get some answers. But first, I mentioned my observations about the taste of her pussy before as compared to the way it was tonight. To my utter and complete surprise, she admitted that her actions were all a ruse to get me to eat a full load of cum from her pussy as well as to let me know that she needed other men, real men in our relationship. She was simply tired of fooling me. I was simply tired of fooling you darling. I knew it had to come out sometime. She said in a remorseful tone. She admitted that she had been dating other men from the very first time we were dating as steadies. "It thrilled me so to have you tasting other men's jism, even though it was only small traces of their dick cum. So I was getting this increasing and compulsive urge to feed you even more. And I was right, having your head on my sloppy slimy wet muff after a vigorous fuck, gave me a very intense thrilling feeling. And darling, while I need well hung men, which you're not. I still need your true love and strong emotional support. While I may let others fuck my pussy, my heart will be yours exclusively. Her words were still falling down on me like rocks in an avalanche. I was speechless. She continued talking. George, I denied you because I want you to see me as the girl next door and to respect me as your loving wife. And another reason is that I adore seeing you jack off for me, knowing that other men are doing me whenever they desire. I know it's wicked for me to put it that way, but that's the way it is for me. I'm hoping you understand and accept it all. And I still want you to eat my studs' jism from my used fucked cunt, because seeing and hearing and feeling you draw their hot slimy goo out of me is so wickedly delicious." The gleeful smile she wore as she talked alarmed me. I was finally able to talk. We discussed this side of her desires and wants and needs a side that I had never fathomed. While we both agreed that we loved each other and that I could forgive her for being unfaithful, we still didn't reach an agreement I was comfortable with. I later also talked to both our families about the matter of us continuing in our current relationship, and whether it was wise or possible for Gail and I to continue on the road to being married. To my utter and complete surprise, both families not only knew of Gail's blatant unfaithfulness to me, but were resounding in their support of Gail having been slutty, as well as for me to not be deterred in making her my bride. They looked at me as if I was the one in left field who had concerns about her cheating on me or that she wanted me to suck her other men's sperm from her sloppy hairy snatch. Everyone was also of the opinion that if Gail didn't want me to have any of her pussy until our wedding night, that was her prerogative and that i should respect it. After all, George dear, she wants to marry you as a virgin, so I feel you should respect and honor her wishes. If she needs you to please her with your mouth because you have to stay a virgin, then that's the way it has to be. Gail's mom said to me. Yes, you should marry as a virgin, no ifs, ands or buts. Was my mother's stern reply to me. She liked Gail, and in mother's eyes, she could do no wrong. I did love Gail very much. And she did seem to sincerely care for me. And as both mother and my in-laws pointed out, I had invested a lot of time in the relationship, I shouldn't just walk away because of the possibility of better men competing with me for her pussy. "George, I didn't raise you to be a quitter. Besides, Gail is a healthy woman, and she needs good sex. If you truly love her, you will do what it takes to ensure she gets it, even if you have to do more than a real man would do to make it so. Sure, you'll have to give up some manly self-esteem, but you and I both know that for you, that won't be much a loss. Said mother to be in a serious tone as she gave me her advice on the matter. Mother, who is strong willed like Gail, has always liked my fiancee and even told me that a strong assertive girl like Gail was what I needed in a wife. I guess you could call me a true mama's boy, because I've always revered mother and her advice and counsel. Mother was the strong force in our house and dad always went along with her. Sometimes I wished he had stood up to her, but it never happened. Well once or twice he sort of did. I wasn't suppose to know about it - as I was sent away to my room. But mother took him to the basement and slapped him around and whipped him, while he was naked with an electrical extension cord, both of those times. When she felt I was mis-behaving, I also experienced the sting of her electrical cord too. Gail and I made up and it became a normal part of our relationship to have other men, as well as their copious loads of hot slimy jism, as a normal and routine aspect of our engagement relationship. I have to admit, I had gotten quite acclimated to the taste of her wet drippy slimy snatch, and sucked a lot of her men's spend out it. Since this was my primary way of really being intimate with her, I became rather excited about being there for her that way. It was not uncommon for me to become over aroused and shoot off in my shorts as she got such marvelous orgasms with her pussy grinding down on my face and flitting tongue. But I have to admit, I lost no love for Gail and even became to admire how well she could handle the huge cocks she showed me in pictures and videos of her having sex with single, as well as groups of horny men. I naturally began to feel inferior to her, and her many men friends who she was dating more than me. However, over time, I became comfortable in my subordinate role. We would go out to an occasional movie, but for the most part, I watched a lot of TV, waiting for her to be brought back home by her different studs. At least I was thankful she always came back to me, even if well fucked. And I had to concede that at least I was able to get some of her pussy, even if it was to lick and slurp up the leavings of her better men The manner of our relationship did make me feel a bit insignificant and less sophisticated than Gail, but she and both our families seem to think it was a very harmonious arrangement for us. I said nothing but went along with things,because I had come to see that I was lucky to even be in Gail's life, as my position, in comparison to her better endowed and looking studs was pitiful. Within a few months of our wedding date, we moved in together. While she was frequently out on dates, she left me at home to do things like dust, mop floors, do laundry and keep the kitchen and bathrooms spotless. She often gave me a list of chores before she got picked up by her dates. Her men friends often had smirks on their faces as Gail would go over the list in their presence. I know she didn't intend it to seem as if she was given instructions to a servant, but that's the way it came across to me. I mentioned this to her, and she fully agreed she had no intent of treating me as a servant. That made me feel better that she said so. However, she still seems to give me my chore list,and has me read them back to her, as the last thing she does before walking out the door in her clubbing attire -very revealing, short mini skirts and dresses - but at least I know that she never means to embarrass or belittle me in front of her more manly, handsome shapely dressed dates. For some reason, Gail insisted I wear a floral pinafore apron that had a pink and lavender in its color scheme, plus had a small lace trim. While it was very effective in keeping spills and drops from getting on my clothes, I hated being seen by wearing it when her dates or her other men friends came by our shared apartment. I would've preferred a solid colored apron, even if the flowers are pretty. I believe mother said the floral pattern on the apron were patches of pansies. However, when Gail received compliments on how clean and spotless the place was, Gail always recognized me as the one that should receive the compliments. To me that was further proof that my fiancee was an upright person even through some things that she did, that came across as making me look stupid and browbeaten, or petty, were not intentional in any way, in our strong relationship. Well, the big day arrived. Gail and I were married in a small private ceremony. Gail picked my best men - yes she thought four of her favorite studs was fitting. I questioned her on this, but when it seemed that she was dead set on this arrangement, I shut up and went along with her plans. The whole while I stood at the altar, I felt so intimidated as well as totally inferior to the taller and bigger men, all who had, and were fucking my beautiful bride's hot pussy - while I had never been able to get any, except with my tongue. WE START OUR MARRIAGE OFF I was very disappointed on our wedding night that not only did my new bride gave herself to several men doing the ceremony and that I had to suck all that gloppy cum out before I was allowed to put my much smaller member in her, as her husband. But imagined my shock when she told me, no ordered me to, put on a condom she'd handed to me. The stern look in my eye also alarmed me too. But I did as she said and rationalized that some pussy is better than no pussy, after all these months of waiting for some. She added that this was not the time to get into her rationale for wanting me in latex. She urged us to enjoy the moment of our wedding bliss and begin the consummation of the marriage. Even in my disappointment, her words sounded so comforting. Even though I didn't last over 3 minutes in her juicy wet and very warm pussy, but it was a glorious 3 minutes. "That was great darling. Welcome to being my husband. I'm glad you finally got to put it in and enjoy my pussy that way. And I just love the way you suck my tits." My new bride said to me. I too was so delighted to finally be able to handle, fondle, caress, and suckle her fleshy orbs after so long a wait. I got much more concerned when Gail told me after we were married that she was going off the pill because of medical side effects. And even with the risk of her getting pregnant by someone other than her husband - me - she had no plans to stop dating or being promiscuous. Gail and I had long intense discussions about our marriage and what it meant to both of us and how best to maintain the love between us. Family members on both sides - mine and hers - made their views known too. So in the end, to reduce the friction, emotional trauma, and general confusion, she and I concluded that just because she still needed to go out for bigger dicks and would be having sex with her dates, and more than likely would be letting them ejaculate in her unprotected juicy snatch - if they wanted to - I just had to get use to that. Reluctantly, I ended up agreeing with her that there was no reason to let other men and their sperm in her pussy interfere with our marriage or the love we have for each other. I was sad that Gail told me she couldn't control whether the assertive studs she would be dating would use condoms, but that she would still demand that I did. I pressed her for a rationale for her making me, her husband use them, and not her outside lovers. The only reason she gave was that she felt keeping something back from me such as that, kept me from taking her for granted. "Yes George, I know that the guys I'll be dating will treat me like a slut and a whore. To them, I'm just a easy piece of ass. But they have a good reason to see me that way, because all I want from them is a good fucking, not a deep and emotional loving relationship as we have." She said as she gave me a warm and sincere passionate kiss after she spoke. I had a difficult time rebutting or replying to her logic. I sat there silent wishing things could be different. But as was brought up several times in our talks, we both knew I didn't have the strength or will power to refuse her desires, or compete with the type of brawny handsome assertive men she liked to date. And as a way of mitigating the risk of her becoming pregnant because of her unprotected wanton promiscuity, she and both our families thought that if my wife thought that an effective birth control was straddling my face and draining her cum filled pussy in my sucking mouth, then I was obliged to be cooperative. Both my folks and my in-laws kept reminding me of my wedding vows. You know the "For better and worse" part. "Honey, I know it would be offensive, and maybe even disgusting, for some men to suck better men's semen from their wife's cunt, when as my husband, you're not permitted to ejaculate in me unencumbered. But because of my needs and your being well... And I'm not trying to be hurtful to you, but we must face the truth... You're an under endowed milksop. And you're not only acclimated to the taste of my used slimy pussy, it's obvious it's very agreeable to you. Honey, this arrangement will works for us. This will make our marriage strong darling." While my wife's words were cutting in one way, I also interpreted them as being sincere and from the heart. Well anyway, from my engagement and onto our wedding, and now, back to the present day, it's obvious my relationship with Gail,as well as my marriage has been unorthodoxed, to say the least, but all in all, Gail and I do get along relatively good. There are relatively few, if any arguments or disagreements in our household as there is great communication between us. And when there is an occasional disagreement between she and I, it always works out best if I accept her position on the matter which I always seem to do. So indeed, there is a great degree of harmony in our marriage. Before I close out my story, I think I should talk a bit about my Father-in-law. --------MY FATHER-IN-LAW MR. SMITH------ Mr. Smith is a tall brawny outspoken type man. He strongly resembles many of Gail's real men at least the ones that I have met. I'm only 5'6" and of a much smaller stature than all my wife's real men. Mr. Smith has always freely offered me advice on dealing with his daughter and her sex needs during our courtship, engagement and into our marriage. Even though I feel intimidated and well, inferior in his presence, I nevertheless, have appreciated his counsel and admire him as a man. He makes no bones about the fact that he doesn't think much of me as a man, but he's done it in a way that has been amicable and congenial, if that makes any sense in my describing my relationship with him. It was about 2 weeks or so after the wedding that he called and wanted me to stop by and see him. When I arrived, he was home alone. Gail's mom was away shopping and wasn't expected back for a few hours. He greeted me wearing a bath robe and had a drink in his hand. He fixed me one too. As we sat and talked about things like the weather and the short honeymoon Gail and I went on, his robe gradually parted and his large genitals became quite visible, as he made no attempt to shield them from my eyes. He was very well hung, as the saying goes, and his circumcised penis wasn't totally soft and not fully erect either. It had to be almost 8 long,and it was of sizable girth too. His balls were also large and hairy and low hanging. I tried to avoid looking at the display of his magnificent equipment, but it was difficult to not occasional glances at his member. It was difficult for me not to be envious. I only had a slender 4 prick and much smaller balls. "Georgie boy, from reports of your mother and my wife, you're doing a great job of sucking their pussies clean. I'm proud that you've worked so hard to be a good cunt sucker and cleaner for my little girl. She deserves the best snatch sucking you can give her. Not only as her birth control, but for the pleasure she gets from you doing that for her." "T-Thank you Mr. Smith. I-I appreciate all you've done to help me too. I-I really want to be the best at what I do for Gail." "That's make me feel good to hear you say that as my new son-in-law. And I'm always glad to let you eat my cum out of your mother and my wife after I fuck them." He said with a broad smile. As I sipped my drink I thought back to when Gail's dad came up with the idea of proficiency pussy sucking for me, so that I could maintain my sucking skills and to keep my jaw muscles toned for giving Gail the best suck out every time. Gail's mother was excited about being practice pussy for me and was in total agreement with her husband, that since I was such a good mama's boy, I should also be sucking my mother's pussy too. Gail's dad had met my mother and dad before. He'd determined that dad was a lot like me and felt that for me to get the best cunt sucking experience, it would be best if a better man than dad fucked mother, so her pussy could be a practice cunt for me. He presented his proposal to mom and dad in my presence. Mother was very delighted and welcomed being fucked by Gail's tall handsome muscular dad. My dad knew that mother was game. She explained to him that "It's for our son's own good for me to get fucked by a better man than you, so our son can have a proper cream pie eating experience to keep his sucking skills sharp." My dad knew by mother's reaction that he had no choice but to agree. My father, who is of small stature like me, and not well endowed either, was embarrassed as he had to concur that he wasn't as hung as Mr. Smith and that he probably couldn't ejaculate as much jism as Gail's dad. "And he can't last that long either or give my pussy that well fucked feeling or condition either." Mother said smiling as she cut dad off as he was admitting he didn't have what it took to fuck his wife's cunt as Gail's dad did. My dad's name is Frank and my mother's name is Flora. "Frank, I'm glad you're being sensible about this." Gail's dad said. "W-Well I-I always try to do things t-that's best for my family." "You're a good husband and father Frank." Gail's dad replied Next, Gail's dad took mother to the master bedroom and dad was invited to come watch. When he tried to decline, mother said "Oh come on dear, it'll be good for you to see how a real man fucks a woman. And George you can come too, so you can be ready to go down on me when Mr. Smith is through fucking me." My dad's face tuned redder than it already was, but we both meekly followed Gail's dad and mother as they walked toward the bedroom arm in arm. Mr. Smith's hand was also on mom's wide shapely mature ass. Once in the bedroom, dad was directed to undress mother as well as to guide Gail's dad big rigid dick in mother's eager and wet hairy muff. She also required dad to kiss her pussy slit before that. "Now dear, you can go over and have a seat until we're through. Pull your pants down and play with yourself while you watch me get a good fucking. You too son." She said directing her words to me. Both of us were very embarrassed, but we both obediently did as we were old by mother. It really turned out to be enjoyable watching Mr. Smith fuck mother, as both dad and I maintained erections almost the whole time he was humping her, which lasted for well over a half hour. He did her in different positions, but neither dad or I could hold back when Gail's dad sat on the edge of the bed with mother facing us and sitting on his big tool. Her legs were parted wide as she rode his dick hard and sensuously and nosily, as their coupling was very wet sloppy wet is a better description and the slushy squishy fucking noise was loud. Gail's dad pumped two heavy loads in mother, and gave her at least 4 rousing orgasms. He gave her a very sloppy and slimy messy cunt, which all present watched me dive mouth first into and suck clean. Everyone praised my efforts after mother finally got off my face from draining her messy muff on my sucking mouth. My thoughts snapped back to the present and Mr. Smith. "Now Georgie boy, the real reason I asked you to come over is that I'd like to ask you a favor." "Yes sir, Mr. Smith, what is it." "How about being a pussy boy for me today and suck my dick off. I also want you to swallow all my cum too?" "W-What! O-Oh I-I see. Well you know Mr. Smith, I-I have licked your big cock clean several times when y-you've had sex with mother a-as well as your wife, a-and I-I was there to suck their o-oozing cunts. B-But u-using my m-mouth on you u-until y-you ejaculate a-and then swallowing all your semen, i-isn't t t-that something t-that gay guys do?" "Just because you put your mouth on a better man's dick or suck it for that matter, and swallow all his cum doesn't mean you're gay. Plus, gay guys don't suck pussy, so there, you've got that going for you too. So don't worry about being gay." "O-Oh I see. T-Thanks Mr. Smith, I-I hadn't thought of it that way. That does make me feel better. And I-I guess with all you've done for me, especially fucking mother, as well as setting her up with other horny men, so I could eat her many sweet cream pies, it would be unappreciative on my part, not to do as you want and suck your fine dick, and swallow your hot semen as it shoots off in my mouth. B-But sir, y-you'll have to guide m-me as I-I've never fully s-sucked a cock before" "Don't you worry a bit my boy, I'll give you all the instructions you'll need to do my dick. And yes, as far as your mama is concerned, it's not everyday a mama's boy gets to eat out his mother's creamy pussy." "Yes, you're so right Mr. Smith, it really has bonded she and I even closer. Dad loves eating her out even more now. He use to eat a lot of his own cum out of her muff, as he always shot off to soon when he had intercourse with her, and had to finish her with his mouth. She of course made him eat his own cum in the process. Now he's delighted to eat the better tasting sperm deposits of other men from her. And because she's too busy fucking other men who come by for some, he's perfectly satisfied now to just suck her sloppy snatch and jack off." Well, he's better suited for that arrangement anyway. Now c'mon over here Georgie and help me and my dick out. Mr. Smith next said. Mr. Smith guided me to my knees and gave me advice on how to suck him off properly. His erect member jutted proudly, and somewhat obscenely skyward, as I guided my lips to it. He had me hold his warm and hairy stupendous nut sac. It didn't take me but a few seconds to get the hang of suckling him in such a manner that my teeth were not in the way. After a few moments, he and I had a rhythm of movement as he slowly pushed and pulled his long thick shaft in and out of my suckling mouth. There was drool leaking out of the corners of my mouth as he held and used my head as a surrogate cunt to appease his lust. As he worked his large throbbing erection rhythmically between my lips, I just continued to fondle his balls and let my mouth be used as he desired. As I thought about it, this was a pretty simple and straight forward, but delightful sex act. I discovered that it was very pleasant to have my mouth filled with his hard man meat, and to also have it moving in and out like my mouth was a pussy. I also found it rather delightful to let my tongue play over his shiny dick head on each pass, as well as well as feel it engage his giant pee slit too. It was all so agreeable to my senses, I thought to myself that it might be worth the risk of being called a faggot to get men to let me do this wonderful thing for them. Yessss! Keep doing that. That feels mighty good. You have nice soft hands like a bitch. Suck me you little pantywaist sissy bitch. Mr. Smith shouted and moaned sensuously. I could tell he was really enjoying himself, and for some reasons what the names he called me didn't seem to matter. It just pleased me greatly that he was pleased with me pleasing his hard dick. I've always known I was a people pleaser and it looks like I'd been introduced to a great way to please and be pleased. And saying I was pleased would be an understatement when Mr. Smith ejaculated his fantastically hot and bountiful spurting load of gooey jism in my mouth. And when he came, he ejaculated so forcefully too. I was quite lucky that he pulled his big dick head back close to the front of my mouth. so I had room to collect his powerful spurts of thick gooey semen, and then quickly swallow before the next gusher filled that cavity in front of my throat. My tongue was blasted time after time and thoroughly inundated with his hot seed. That was so delicious. After the 5 or 6 main spurts were diminished, he told me to keep sucking, but he really didn't have to, it sort of came normal to me to slowly suckle the remaining dribble that seem to seep from the head of now softening dick head. After a few minutes, he pulled his much softer dick from between my lips with a loud PLOP. Damn Georgie boy, that was some blow job. You sure you ain't never sucked a dick before? N-No sir... N-Never... I-I guess I-I should thank you for your compliment. I smiled but continued blushing at his remarks. The feeling of his hot sperm in my tummy made me feel far more comfortable than I expected. He continued to talk about why he wanted me to be a cocksucker and how it was alright for me to do that for him and other men to if I was asked to. As I sat there listening to him convince me that being a cocksucker wasn't as sordid or perverted as some in society made it our to be, I have to admit, I felt a strange sort of contentment and mental bliss. You see Georgie, you have the calling to draw out a man's dick cream, whether it be from a used twat or straight from a hard dick. That's nature for you, and there is no use fighting it. He waxed as we sat there nursing our drinks. Even though I realized that now I was even more inferior to Gail's dad and other men like him, since I had performed an act as a pantywaist bitch and evidently enjoyed taking a man's heated load of sperm. Yet, I felt less intimidated by him, but yet a greater degree of respect of him and his sexual prowess. And by having sucked his cock, I felt a greater confidence in relating to him. And as if the evening wasn't already full of surprises, Mr. Smith dialed a number and I heard him tell the other party that things went well. I then quickly surmised he was referring to the situation involving me of which I had been a party. But then he handed me the phone and after saying Hello, I heard mother's voice. To get to the point, I had been set up, and my own mother was part of the collusion to break me into being a full fledge cocksucker. She sounded not only happy, but gleeful that I had sucked my first cock. And Georgie, you don't have to worry about me thinking any less of you cause you're leaving with my cum in you. Gail's dad said to me as I left his house. As I left the driveway, I thought to myself, it's usually the woman that goes home with the ejaculate in her, so I guess I really did end up being his bitch. EPILOGUE: A few days later, Gail's dad called to talk about the experience of sucking my first dick - his. "Y-Your c-cum h-had a-a stronger flavoring t-than when I taste i-it from Gale's cunt." I replied to his question of how I found the taste of his gooey cum cream. "Now Georgie, I don't want you to feel offended cause I wanted you to be a bitch boy for me. But I remember the look on your face. It was very clear that sucking my cock was better than you ever expected it to be. And I have to let you know again, that was damn good for your first time." "I-I'm not offended at you treating me as bitch boy s-sir. It-It was better than I-I expected. Then I can count on a repeat performance anytime I want, right? Y-Yes sir w-whenever y-you need me. B-By the way, Gail appears to be very proud of me too. S-She says that it will help me to focus more on being the kind of husband she desires me to be a-and not worrying about trying to be like her real men. I said to him meekly. She should be and it will definitely make you a better husband for her. He replied I thanked him again for helping me to endear her to me even more. I let him know that I felt good about sucking his dick too and didn't mind in the least having to swallowing all his ejaculating hot jism. He replied that he was going to offer me to several of his horny buddies who would love to use my mouth as a place to shoot off their bothersome pent up jism. He and I both agreed that to practice on other dicks, and tasting a lot of different semen would be good experience for me. And son, you'll be more of a helpful helpmate to your new bride now that you're comfortable being a sissy cocksucker." "S-She does?" "Yes, just think, you can help her out with her men. say they come by for a quickie and she's out with another of her men. So there you are, you can substitute for her and take his hot cum. She'll be exceptionally pleased at you taking sperm that was intended for her pussy." "I-I guess I-I had never thought of a-anything as t-that." "You do want to please her, and for her to be pleased with you, right?" "Of course, y-yes sir." "So what's the problem if you have to suck dicks to do it? His logic was strong and sound. Well that was many years ago, and since those early days of our marriage, her dad was correct. Gail has utilized me as both her marriage helpmate and as a sexual helpmate for her many men friends. I've taken many a loads of hot ejaculate that were intended for her when she wasn't available both down my throat and up my ass-pussy. And with Gail's dad's help, he has found men that wanted me to suck their horny dicks, or fuck me, - or both - for money, which really comes in good in my providing for our growing family. And he only takes half of what I make for his troubles. Again, for the things he does to help Gail and I out, he's the greatest of father-in-laws. I of course act as my wife's oral, and only, birth control. Each time she gets inseminated, both our families chide and blame me for my failure in not having done a good cunt sucking job. And since both our mom's delight in the additional grand kids and Gail has always wanted a large family too - abortion has always been out of the question. Sure it's a lot more pressure on me to provide for all these kids, but I still love and care for them all, as they are innocent of my wife's need to be wanton and overly promiscuous with many different men. None of our children favor me in any way. They all however seem to have some of my wife's features. We always get a lot of stares when we go out as a family. Two of our kids have blond hair, 2 are red heads, 2 were obviously sired by different black men, one is of Italian descent, and another the result of Gail having coitus with a Hispanic stud. And another thing, after 17 years of marriage, I'm still required to wear condoms, even when Gail has been pregnant. Oh well, I'm still hopeful that one day, when she's ready, she'll let me have some without a rubber, like she permits with all her real men. And through out my marriage, I've found that it's usually easier to go ahead and do what Gail, or others, expect or desire of me, rather that to be recalcitrant or confront her or them about their demands. I don't like discord or being confrontational anyway. I find it easier to do what needs to be done, and get it over with even if it's something a real man wouldn't do - rather than be argumentative. And as Gail predicted all those years ago, our marital arrangement has worked well for us. And has resulted in a very strong harmonious marriage for us too. ###END###

TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE Copyright c MAY 2002 By C.D.E. ALL Rights Reserved This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit. This story may be freely distributed for personal use with this notice attached. All Characters And Events Depicted In This Story Are Purely Fictional. There Is No Intention In Any Manner, To Represent Or Mimic, Any Real World Situations Or Persons. Story Content:(Cuckold, M+/F, MF, Inter, Impreg, FemDom) WARNING: THIS STORY IS A PURE SEXUAL FANTASY. DO NOT READ THIS STORY IF YOU ARE HOMOPHOBIC, AND/OR DO NOT LIKE READING A FICTIONAL STORY OF THE DOMINANT/CUNNING SLUT WIFE GENRE, WHERE GULLIBLE MEN ARE TRICKED/FOOLED/USED, PSYCHOLOGICALLY MANIPULATED, OCASSIONALLY FLAGELLATED, SEXUALLY DOMINATED BY THEIR BEAUTIFUL SLUT WIVES AND OCASSIONALLY BY THEIR WIVES' MALE LOVERS. TO BE READ BY ADULTS AT LEAST 21 YEARS OF AGE TITLE: Dear Mother Debbie - Vol. 4 AUTHOR: C.D.E. INTRODUCTION: Hello, out there on the World Wide Web. This is Mother Debbie with another addition of my Internet column for those of you who need the kind of advice I offer. You know who you are (SEE Vol. 1 for why I started this advice column). In this Volume 4 Edition, just in time for Mother's Day 2002, I might add, we're looking at a mix bag of very interesting cases from my file of e-mails, including such topics as: (1) marital arbitration; (2) a perceived family conspiracy; (3) a peek at a marriage in a small town; (4) how one hubby avoided being sued; and (5) how a future hubby's perseverance paid off in winning the hand of his dream girl. @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ CASE# 1: Mediation & Arbitration Dear Mother Debbie, My name is Clark. I recently discovered that my wife, Claudia, has been having sex with several men. After they have sex, she has admitted to having me make oral love to her. She says it gives her a great joy to have me sucking and cleaning up all their sperm from her pussy gash and bush with my tongue and mouth. Nevertheless, I was very, very upset at all this. You see, I was a virgin when I married her and I just assumed that this was her tasty natural juices I was lapping up. Since they were hers, well naturally I wanted to get them all up because she asked me to. I didn't know any better. I'd been doing this for her the entire 14 months of our engagement as well as for the last two years of our marriage. So you can see, for over 3 years, I've been sucking up and eating the fuck fluids of other men that have fucked her. "Honey, I understand you're a bit upset at all this, but it was done to spare you the greater embarrassment of me telling you that your little prick just wasn't big enough or long enough or sturdy enough to satisfy me. However, sweetie, your lips and tongue were just right to give me something that big, sturdy, long dicks couldn't. Your mouthing action wasn't good enough to totally replace the dick fuckings I needed, but your sucking was an excellent compliment, especially after I'd been fucked, stretched and filled with their jism. You just don't know how exquisite you make me feel sucking my juicy oozing pussy." I was really hurt by her words. I moved back to my mother's house to get away from Claudia. Even though I loved her deeply, my pangs of pain were great. My mom and Claudia's mom worked to get us back together. They both basically sided with Claudia and explained that as women, they understood why Claudia did what she did and that I should go back to her and adapt to being an understanding husband about this all. "I-I can't believe you two are even suggesting this. Any sane person would see that she's wrong and an adulterer." I responded back to our moms as they tried to convince me to tuck my tail between my legs and go back to my cheating wife. "Well then if you won't take our word, what about a marriage mediator/arbitrator?" Their idea made sense. CLAUDIA & I MEET THE ARBITRATOR The arbitrator's name was Dr. Julie Kent. "Do you think you can forgive your wife for what has happened and continue the marriage should she want to stay with you?" Dr. Kent asked. I paused by the suddenness of the question, but after a moment I replied " If she'll stop her wayward behavior, I would." "What is your reply Claudia? Do you want to stay married to Clark?" "Yes I do. I truly love you Clark, but I must have my sexual satisfaction." Claudia replied to Dr. Kent, but also addressing me too. The discussion from there went down many different paths and took many different and twisted turns. In the end it came out that my wife had become accustomed to my sucking her well fucked pussy and that it would just be too difficult for her to go back to just my mouth and not the many `manly'-her word- dicks she's been getting. The bottom line, I was biologically at fault even though I had no control over my situation. "You two, if a couple truly loves each other, they can work things out. Clark, you have to agree you were gullible and nave. Even your own mother and father knew that your fiancee was feeding you the coital residue from her sex affairs with other men. They thought it best for you because they knew you were better off with a promiscuous wife, than possibly no wife at all. After all, Claudia was your first true and only girl that took you seriously. Is that not correct?" I hung my head and nodded affirmatively to Dr. Kent's question. I was appalled and sad that my family had conspired against me by not educating about what was happening to me. I knew my father was a wimp relative to my mom, but I never though he'd be a party to something like this. I knew mom, in her strong willed way, usually imposed her will on him and me. But when he basically told me the same thing that Dr. Kent had just stated, I knew that he seriously believed he was doing the right thing, just as mom said she did. "Son, you'll get use to the taste of other men's cum dripping from your wife. I got used to the same thing with your mother. She still fucks around on me and I still eat it out of her messy snatch. See how loving toward each other we are? You and Claudia can be the same as we are." I was hoping to get away from being a wimp like my dad, but it seemed that forces were going against me. I loved mom very much even though she was so strong willed and dominant over dad and I. Yet I yearned to be the master of my own castle and have a darling supportive wife who looked up to me. Now I find out that I was just a figurehead master, and that I wasn't that different than dad. I say that because as I thought back over things, Claudia controlled me through her making me believe that I was pleasing and satisfying her sexually, when in reality, I was only going where she manipulated and guided me. It dawned on me that dad was right. That is, that lovely creature like Claudia didn't really need me as much as I needed her. That is the reason when, Dr. Kent suggested that Claudia and I keep the same basic sexual arrangement we'd both become accustomed too, for the next few weeks and gradually try to work some change into our marriage. "It does no good for either of you if we suddenly change your customary sexually relief habits. Clark, you've become acclimated to ingesting semen, just like other things, you could have withdrawal anxiety if you suddenly stop sucking up the quantity your body has become accustomed too. Claudia will also have a similar type anxiety to and this will make her more miserable to live with and affect her loving disposition. Otherwise she could become dominant, cruel and tormenting toward you. You don't want that do you Clark?" Again, I hung my head and nodded side-to-side. "Clark darling, I see Dr. Kent's point. It'll be difficult for us both to stop cold turkey, what's we've been doing for the last 3 years. I'll compromise. I'll cut back on the number of men I let fuck me. However, I still need the delectable joy of feeling you mouthing my gaping stretched battered pussy lips and sucking up the creamy cum that the men, I do get fucked by, shoot off in me." "Excellent compromise!" Dr. Kent said loudly at my wife's statement. "After all, Clark, you did admit that your wife's juices were tasty and a delight to your tongue, even though you weren't aware that the mostly milky goo contents came from other men's dicks and balls. I'm saying this to remind you that what you were eating was not unpalatable before, now the taste won't be any different than before. You'll just have to make a mental adjustment. If you truly love this woman as much as you say you do and want to save this loving marriage, then you'll compromise likewise as she's doing. Clark a good husband would not hesitate to keep the woman he loves pleased, no matter that his own tool alone, wasn't adequate for the job, or that he had to use his tongue in combination with other's tools to get the job done. The important thing is being man enough to get the job done. Clark, you do want to prove to your wife, and her family, and your family too, that you are man enough to get the job done?" "W-Well y-yes b-but..." I stammered in response to Dr. Kent's slightly confusing statement. "Then it's settled! Until further notice, Claudia you are still to let your other men fuck you, but not as many as before. Remember?" "I'll remember Dr. Kent. I'll cut out my weekly one night stands at few of the local pubs and taverns and just concentrate on my regulars." Claudia replied to Dr. Kent's reminder to her. "And Clark, you are to still suck up all the fuck they do shoot in her. It's for the good of you and your wife. Remember?" Dr. Kent said as she stood up and started ushering us out of her inner office. "Y-Yes." I softly mumbled in my confused and mentally tired state. WEEKS LATER "Claudia, I-I don't know h-how to say this, b-but it just doesn't appear that you've cut back. I-I still seem to be s-sucking and e-eating the same a-amount of their stuff from you a-as..." "The same amount of their jism as before? That doesn't surprise me. It seemed that even though I've cut back on the number of men beside you fucking me each week, that is from six, to three, it appears that they are fucking me more and therefore the amount of the jism in me has basically stayed the same. After all, dear, not to hurt you, but they do come several times, and when they shoot, they squirt some heavy loads." My wife said with somewhat of a slightly impish smile. "Claudia, I know Dr. Kent said not to rush things, b- but it has been six weeks and things really haven't changed from before we went to see her." "Of course they have honey. We are more open about things now. You know the three guys that are helping you out and whose jism you're eating. You get to see them come and pick me up and drop me off from their dates. Many times you've come in from work and found me in bed with them. You've gotten more use to them being apart of our marriage, both our folks have too. And Don't forget, I've cut back 50 percent of the men I were fucking. I'd say we've accomplished a lot and we both should be proud of that." So you see Mother Debbie, my situation is not a whole lot better, the only thing that I seemed to have accomplished is that my wife is basically not cheating on me anymore, as I now know what she doing and who she's doing it with. Because of Dr. Kent, I'm an unwitting partner in this whole mess. To make matters worse, both our families have become fond of my wife's three masculine handsome lovers. Both our families have invited them over for Sunday dinner on more than one occasion. When they come to my family's home, mother makes me and dad serve their plates and after dinner coffee to them. It's so humiliating for me to do that, especially while wearing a white lace trimmed apron. However, I'm still not forceful enough to embarrass mom by not doing what she tells me to do. Dad has encouraged for me to keep the peace with mom at all cost. He says that I should swallow my pride and show my wife's three lovers that I am not insecure at them being the alpha males in my house and marriage. Claudia's mom made some small talk two weeks ago about what pretty babies my wife and the three could make. I think she knows I heard her. I saw my wife's eyebrows arch at her suggestion too. Which means, she took serious note of her mom's suggestion. To make matters worse, not long after that incident, my mom had mentioned something to Claudia about it being time she got her some grand kids. I wondered why she didn't consult me. Was there a hidden meaning? Now I'm really worried. If she becomes pregnant from one of them, she would have even less use for me. I've taken all Dr. Kent's advice and now realize that maybe she really has been trying to help me all alone. She helped me make the mental adjustment to getting over eating my wife's lovers' semen from her pussy. Not only that, but I've also become a cuckold in the process. Actually, I've become a premium type of cuckold, or a wittol. My cuckoldry is basically an established part of my marriage, no matter how hard I tried to prevent it. External natural forces have beat me down. I have really worked hard to please my wife even more with my tongue the more she gets fucked. I sincerely think she appreciates all my oral efforts. I've also taken Dr. Kent's advice and given up trying to hide from her lovers that I suck her semen saturated slimy snatch. They know this is the only real hold I have on her, and I'm trying to make sure I use it for all it's worth. I know I love her dearly. I've gotten over doing it for her while she and one or more of them are lying in our bed resting between fucks. Mother Debbie, please help me with a solution or some sound advice for my situation. I think it has reached a point of no return for me. You think it's too late for me to recover? Yours sincerely, Clark ****************** MOTHER DEBBIE'S REPLY***************** Dear Clark, You have nothing to fear, from all my years of experience, yours is a very desirable situation for you to be in. First of all, your wife is not about to leave you for one of those three Adonis fuck lovers or baby makers. You're not only her pussy lapper husband, you're her soulmate. You're giving her an ego-satisfying boost no handsome big dick man ever could. You're devoted, loyal, and now know your place. That means so much to a woman such as Claudia. So what if one or all three of her handsome studs knock her up? Part of them babies will be from her. The time is now to get your two cents worth on this thing about her making babies. Let her know that she doesn't have to worry about a thing if she gets pregnant, as you are her husband and you are there to be the daddy of them all. This can only make her love you even more by having you admit that you'll accept other men's babies your own. Sincerely, Mother Debbie @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ CASE#2: Family Conspiracy Mother Debbie, I just wanted to write and alert your readers, especially unsuspecting husbands, that if they're not careful, they can be the victims of a life long conspiracy, by close family members and in-laws, if they're not careful. I should've picked up on the fact that there was a conspiracy against me when our first baby was born. The conspiracy involved my wife, her Mother and my Mother. I was sure the child looked more like the water meter reader than me. However, my Mother told me I was being silly and that our first born, a boy, looked just the way I did when I was a baby. I still had my doubts, but Mother, who is very strong willed, didn't like to be disagreed with. "Son, this baby is yours, and that's final. There'll be no more such talk of this baby not possibly being yours. Understand?" "Y-Yes ma'am." I nervously replied in a shaky meek voice. Even for me I was surprised at her stand on the matter and the outright rejection of my concern. Even though I thought my accusation had merit, I was easily intimidated by my mom. I meekly accepted her conclusion on the matter even though I didn't like it. "Good! Now stop whining and start being a good daddy." She said with what appeared to be a slight smirk and a bit of a sly smile on her face as she looked at me. My wife seems to have kids based on orders our mothers gives her as to what features they want in their grand kids. We have 5 kids so far, all with features I've overheard one or both of our Moms have discussed at one time or another. We have a blond daughter, and a brunette daughter with Italian features. We also have a fraternal set of red head twins. Mother wanted a red head grandson, but was delighted with the outcome of a granddaughter too. I was devastated. Our last family addition was the dusky skin Jasmine. I knew her biological father was black and strongly favored one of my co-workers. I later found out it was my Mother's desire to have a daughter with a permanent suntan look. After each baby was born, all three women, that is my wife, her Mother and my Mom boasted of how strongly each child favored me, even our red headed twins and our coffee skin daughter Jasmine. As you might surmise, I have none of the features of my legal children or any resemblance to them. They are all by lovers my wife has had during our 14-year marriage. With some sleuth work on my part, I discovered that both our mothers introduced my wife to some of men who inseminated her, as well as several who didn't. Because both our mothers are very strong will and highly opinionated, they have refused to hear anything I've brought up on my wife being unfaithful over the years. I've only done so twice. The first time, they both whipped me so hard with a short multi-tale hand whip, my ass cheeks were blistered and tender for almost two weeks. I was too ashamed to tell anyone about the ass- whipping they gave me, not even my wife, who I believe to this day knows about it. The second time was when my wife had our black daughter Jasmine. I thought it was so outrageous for her to have a black man's baby, that I couldn't contain my anger. I vented my anger at her and our mother's. Both mothers again whipped me until I was black and blue. A few weeks later, after my wife had gotten her strength back from having the baby, our two Moms tricked me into the basement and secured me while my wife had her opportunity to also vent her anger at me for accusing her of adultery and being a slut. These last two whippings have helped me get all the anger of my situation out of my system. I now concentrate on being the husband and daddy my wife and our mothers and our children expect and demand of me. Chastised Husband ****************** MOTHER DEBBIE'S REPLY***************** Dear Chastised Husband, Thank you so much for writing and sharing your situation with us, and especially for alerting our readers about what happened to you. If there is a lesson to be learned here, it is that husbands should be careful to avoid making accusatory and non-constructive statements that negatively affect their marriages. You are very lucky that both your moms, and your wife, were there to guide you back to your proper place and get you back on track as to your proper role in the marriage. Because once your wife decides to have a baby by other men, the decision has been made for you that you should accept your role as a cuckold. After that, you should focus on more important things such as being a good husband and a good daddy to the child, or children, your wife brings into the marriage from other men, no matter if there is a conspiracy or not. Sincerely, Mother Debbie @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ CASE#3: It Takes a Village Dear Mother Debbie The saying that it takes a village to raise a child is a lot like what has happened to me, except in a different context. What has happened to me is that it has taken a village to make my family. That is, a village of men other than me. At least that's what seems to be my wife's philosophy in that she has let 4 men in our small town inseminate her over the last ten years of our marriage. In fact, she was pregnant at the altar with my best man's baby and I didn't find out about it until the baby was born 7 months later. She'd told me the baby "was going to be mine". When I confronted her later, she said she hadn't lied. "Darling, since we were going to be married, the baby is now yours and ours, right? Besides, you shouldn't get upset over who put it in me, the baby is innocent of that and besides, he is now our love and joy. I love you darling and want to be your wife, no matter that I got pregnant by another man. If you love me and call yourself a man, you'll not bring this up again." I didn't bring up the subject again, after all, I didn't want to make it easy for my friend and best man, to walk away with my wife if she still wanted to stay with me. Otherwise, he'd have her and his baby - "our baby". People around town knew that it was my best friend Dave's (Not his real name) child. The boy looked just like him. They put the best on the outside by saying he favored my wife more than me. I put up with all the whispers behind my back because I did love my wife greatly. She finally admitted that Dave's big cock and his ability to sex her for up to an hour continuously is how she got involved and ended up getting pregnant from him. It took about a year to pull all the details out of her, but in the end she finally admitted that she wanted to have Dave's baby, that why she got pregnant, even though she truly loved me. I questioned as to how this could be, but she just told me "I do love you even though I had another man's child, and if it should happen again, please honey, don't think it's because I think any less of you." Of course, the "if it should happen again" part really shook me. During this time, my wife also let me know that she needed more than what my small prick and tonguing action was doing for her. After a while, her statement and my recollection about other events - like her going out several times a week to see her old class mates and leaving me home to baby-sit - hit me like a cold blast of air. Come to think of it, she never did say if they were guys or gals. The truth did come out - they were all guys. She basically let me know she was cuckolding me and I wasn't smart enough to realize it. She later told me I shouldn't be upset. So Mother Debbie that's what happened three more times up until the present day. Why did I put with this, well, I do love my wife and we do get along rather well and have so much in common, even though she has this thing about having other men's babies for us to raise. I don't know if I made the right decision to simply accept and go along with this quirk of hers, but I didn't want to lose her for fear I'd never find another woman with her charm, intelligence, and wit- especially in such a small town. I'm so glad we have the Internet and the ability to share thoughts and compare lifestyles worldwide. Otherwise, I never would've known about your column. I guess for what it's worth, the reason I'm writing is that I just wanted your opinion if I did the right thing. That is, to stay married to the woman I love, even though I've endured much humiliation caused by her over the years? Sincerely, Humble ****************** MOTHER DEBBIE'S REPLY***************** Dear Humble, You most certainly made the right decision. There is nothing more to be said. You said you live in a small town. In such a place, probably your options for as pretty a wife as you have is probably limited. Therefore, you really did make the right decision and as you've learned, over time you did become desensitized to being the lesser man, but in the process become a well respected husband to your wife and a great daddy to the babies your wife had by her studs. Sincerely, Mother Debbie @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ CASE#4: Legal Cuckold Dear Mother Debbie, I'm fairly certain that I love my wife too much. I say that because I've stood by while she's had two babies by other men - two of her old boyfriends. She's currently pregnant again by another old boyfriend. I'm getting a bit ahead of myself. Let me explain things first. My wife is a Paralegal. The first time she got pregnant - it was by Leon, she came to me with a legal document. Before handing it to me, she admitted to an adulterous affair behind my back and that she was now pregnant with Leon's child. I was devastated that she'd cheated on me and to add to it, she was pregnant on top of that. Sure, I had reluctantly given my permission for them to go out socially as friends, even though it was at her persistent insistence. She didn't want me going out with them, even though I'd asked, no really, I begged. She still didn't relent. I was left at home while they went out socially for several months. "Darling, I know I was wrong to permit my self to become passionate with Leon and even worse that I let him inseminate me. However, it happened. Now we are faced with a legal situation." This is the statement my wife made to me before explaining that now she was with child, we faced a possible lawsuit from Leon if we didn't agree to the terms of the legal writ she had in her hand. It turned out that Leon was proposing to sue us as a couple, because I had failed to prevent my wife from arousing him and therefore him getting her pregnant as he satisfied his and her sexual lust. He claimed that because I was not with them on the date they were on, I was negligent for not being there to prevent him from fucking her and for her not being able to refuse him. To make matters worse, Leon, who was Pro-life, insisted that my wife carry the baby to term and that the baby be claimed as our son. If we failed to do this, he'd sue us for a million dollars. After reading all this, my head was spinning and couldn't believe all the legal mumbo jumbo I'd read. I asked my wife if he could demand such a thing. She nodded her head affirmatively. She recommended we agree to Leon's terms. After a bit of discussion, I gave in to my wife's recommendation, after all, she knows about these things. Agreeing to Leon's demands would also not cost us a penny as my wife could draft up the documents. She felt insulted when I proposed we get a lawyer. She was so angry that she threatened to leave me. I quickly apologized. A few days later, my wife drafted up what she called a Settlement Decree Document. At the signing of the document, Leon was present along with my wife and I. To my chagrin, my wife brought a woman co-worker from her office to act as a witness. I'd often heard my wife refer to this woman as a gossiping busybody. I just knew the news of my cuckoldry would be known all over my wife's office. I had to sign several places agreeing to the following terms: -I agree that I was cuckolded, but would never seek any remedy from Leon for being the party that caused me to be cuckolded. -I would not contest the paternity of or seek child support for the child my wife was pregnant with. -I would raise the child as our own without question, and not treat it any different than as if it was my own, even though I was fully aware that Leon is the true biological father. -I also agreed to let the child's Christian, or first name be a derivative of Leon's first name as proposed by him. He proposed: Leo if a boy and Leila if a girl. The child is to carry my last name. There was also a clause in the agreement to cover this situation happening again with Leon. You see, she and he both let me know that their friendship was not going to be terminated because of this unfortunate lapse of negligence on my part. In fact they are still going out socially while she's pregnant. I was most unhappy about the clause, as well as her and Leon continuing to make social outings, but my wife insisted upon both. She says it's insurance against future law suites by Leon should he get aroused at her beauty and seduces and inseminate her due to me not intervening and preventing it. I feel as if I'm caught in legal quicksand. Please provide me any advice you can Mother Debbie. Sincerely, Legalized Cuckold ****************** MOTHER DEBBIE'S REPLY***************** Dear Legalized Cuckold, I appreciate you sharing your situation with our readers. I know you may be upset at me, but I have to agree with Leon. You were at fault. Even though your wife didn't desire you be out with her when she was out socially with Leon, you could've easily let her know she could call you to vacuum his (or any other man's jism) from her pussy, in case some extra-marital fucking occurs. That is what you should've been telling her instead of begging to go with her. This is also a word of wisdom to other hubbys out there whose wives go out socially with men friends. At least between the Settlement Decree, and my advice, you'll be ready for the next time your wife goes out socially with her men friends. My advice will help prevent pregnancies and draw you and your wife closer emotionally. Sucking your wife's wet spermy pussy has that effect, especially if it's another man's spend in it. The Decree document will protect you from future law suites from Leon only, should he succeed in letting his lust get the best of him and knocking her up again. If there is the possibility of your wife going out with other men socially, I'd advise getting these men to grant you a waiver of personal negligence, as well as you granting them a waiver of liability. That is, liability for any child support, should they seduce, and are successful in knocking up your wife. You could have these pre-printed up as a form letter and have your wife carry several in her purse. The Waiver would simply let the other man know that he was free and clear of any worry should he inseminate your wife, as well as that he couldn't sue you for not being there to stop him from doing so. I hope this helps. Sincerely, Mother Debbie @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ CASE #5: And The Winner Is? Dear Mother Debbie, I have good cause to celebrate and be happy as I write you. I'd been pursuing Carla for over three years to marry me. The wedding is in June. My Mom always told me persistence would pay off. It has for me. Carla is a stunningly beautiful brunette that I fell head over heels in love with back in high school. She was always associating and dating the campus in-crowd - primarily, the sport jocks. You see, Carla saw me as a nerd back then, and to some extent now also. However, she says I'm quite intelligent and that we actually compliment each other's personality. You see, she's quite outgoing and I'm very much a homebody that likes to watch TV and work on the PC. She said we would make a good match, but she wasn't ready to settle down and get married. Because Carla was always after the handsome macho jock type guys, I very seldom went out with her publicly. However, she didn't mind me coming by after they brought her home, or after they left, from coming home with her. Many times I'd wait in my car outside her apartment until they departed. She would signal to me to come in after they left. You see, we had this prearrange set of signals. One was to say come on in. The other was for me to not come in, but go home. If I did come in, which was almost all the time, we would cuddle and kiss. I knew she cared for me because she let me suck her pussy before she went to sleep. We both knew I was sucking up the slimy seminal spermy remnants of her date's spent jism, even though, she as the offeror and I as the acceptor, never said anything about the matter. However, I saw this as good things in two ways. One, a test by her for me to prove my love for her; and secondly, a means to be closer and more intimate with the girl of my dreams. After all, I see being able to get some of her pussy a treat, even if I did have to let my tongue wade though other men's copious spends of frothy semen, as well as having to put up with her disheveled bush and pouting, gaping pussy lips, caused by the pounding of her dates' big dicks. After my sessions with her, sure, I went home with blue balls because she wouldn't permit me to have normal intercourse with me, as she did with all the other men that dated her. Even though she wouldn't let me have her like all the other had her, I knew our relationship was special. She even said so. "Our relationship is on a different plane." She said to me one night after I asked her if I could put it in. I'd done so after I'd sucked her very messy cunt clean one night. This particular night, her date had gotten off 4 times and shot off huge amounts of cum in her. I couldn't believe one man could shoot that much jism during a sex session. He really left a slimy mess between her legs. This night I was really hard up. I was throbbing. I needed some bad. I'd just assumed that Carla would grant me such a small favor after all the heavy duty clean-up sucking I'd done for her that time. I even promised to clean up after myself orally. That was when she brought up the different plane our relationship was on. "If I'm your dream girl as you say I am, and I let you have some now, your dream of me will be less vivid than before, because you won't have to wonder how good it will be to put it in me." I had to ponder her statement and reconcile it with the ache in my straining cock. However, in the end, she let me know that I wasn't getting any that night because she still wanted me to keep the thought of sex with her as being a resplendent, wondrous, nirvana type experience. "However, since I think so much of you, I'll permit you to jack off while I watch. That way, you can get off while imagining how good it'll be when you do get the chance to fuck me. Think about that while you beat your little thing for me." Even though disappointed that she wouldn't let me have some, I couldn't help but admire the profoundness of her rationale for wanting me to keep the dream of her vivid. That just goes to show you how deep this girl is as well as how much she valued our relationship. I also had to admit to myself that it was thoughtful of her to allow me to share such an intimate experience together as pulling my peter in her presence. As our relationship grew, she let me jack off more and more after I'd sucked her wet and gooey, but warm soft tasty pussy meat. Because of this increased interest in me getting enjoyment too from our being together, I just knew I was making progress in winning her over to be mine. It was about a year after this, which was almost three years into our special relationship, that she asked me if I was still interested in marriage. I immediately said yes. I must've proposed to her over a hundred times prior to that day. I was so thrilled. I knew my persistence would wear her down. The other thing, she asked me to do was to invite the five fellows she'd been dating, one of whom probably accidentally got her pregnant, as the best men for our church wedding. Oh, did I forget to mention that she was a month pregnant? Well anyway, I never would of thought of inviting the five handsome macho studs, but it does sort of rub it in their faces that I've has won this race. Not only do I have the girl the five of them have been fucking over the years and have knocked up, but she's going to marry me carrying a baby one of them put in her. I'm telling you Mother Debbie, it's hard not to gloat that I got the best of them and the girl of my dreams too. The other thing is that when we get married in June (Carla insisted on waiting until then, since I had signed her pre-nuptial agreement - see below), she'll be 5 months along. She's going to wear a maternity wedding dress with a lift up lace panel. During the wedding ceremony, she want's me to lift up the panel and kiss her pregnant tummy. "It'll demonstrate to me and the world that you're devoted and love me and the baby." Carla told me when she revealed what she wanted me to do. After thinking about it later, doing that for her will send a further signal to her studs. It'll let them know that Carla is saying I'm the better man to be her husband as well as the man to raise the child they inseminated her with, even though she refused to have sex with me until after I married her. As I said, Mother Debbie, it's hard not to feel Wicked-satisfaction at how I pulled a fast one those macho lovers of hers who were fucking her all the time while I tongue douched up their messy leavings in Carla's pussy, and beat myself off for relief. I just know we're going to be so happy together, and the child I'll be the daddy of, will really round out our marriage. I just know one of her handsome studs will be cringing knowing that I'll be the daddy of his kid. To show just how much in love she was with me and how much she cared for me, as I mentioned above, Carla had me sign a pre-nuptial agreement saying that I would do the following: -Accept any and all babies that she gets pregnant with before, and during the marriage and promise to be a good provider and Father Figure/Daddy to them all. -I would not divorce her for any reason. -I'll perform Oral sex on command whenever she feels she needs it and reserves the right to limit sexual intercourse with me, in the best interest of my health, to avoid excessive intercourse on my part. -I'll never question her as to where she goes or who she goes out with, and never question her faithfulness. -She has the right to have me account for any and all of my time and where I go. -She'll be managing all the household finances and that she'll dole out a weekly allowance to me. It was obvious she loved me and knew that she had a man that loved her deeply, hence the irrevocable and binding language in the agreement. I quickly signed the agreement. I'd been a fool not to agree to such good terms. Just imagine, I'm getting a wife who is concerned about being a good mother and me a good father figure and dad; concerned about financial management; insuring longevity of the marriage; and her sexual satisfaction while making sure I remain healthy and don't over-sex myself. So you see Mother Debbie, I have persevered and won over the girl of my dreams, including an ironclad legal agreement to further hold our marriage together. Sincerely, The Winner ****************** MOTHER DEBBIE'S REPLY***************** Dear Winner, Congratulations! You're correct, there is no substitute for victory. You deserve your moment of glory and praise for persevering and hanging in there. It also doesn't matter how much jism from other men you had to suck from your dream girl's frequently fucked pussy, while she denied you until you married her. The important thing is that you got the prize. In fact, you got double prizes, her and the baby she's carrying. And I have to agree, for you, the pre-nuptial agreement really illustrates what a delightful girl you're marrying and will be happy with. You two are a good match. And to my readers, this is a good example of what can be accomplished once you set your mind toward achieving a goal in life. I offer my blessings to you and your new bride. However, don't be surprised if her five former studs come around and look for a crack in the solid foundation you two are building your marriage on. I'd recommend that you read a true-life story of such a couple as yourselves. It was written by C.D.E. and is titled "The Honor Of Our Love And Marriage". Just as the couple in the story, you two may have to do exactly what they did in order to keep the wife's former lovers at bay and to keep the marriage solid and stable. Sincerely, Mother Debbie @@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@@ That's all for this Edition. Yours Truly, Mother Debbie ###END### Cmts? [email protected]

Phillip's Story Chapter 6 "Serving Two Masters" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): July, 2012 Read my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without his permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or post pictures." Chapter 6: Serving Two Masters: "A new slave is welcomed into the Family" Master has just informed me that he is to be visited by his uncle, Sir Hayward, his aunt, Mistress Eujanie, their daughter, sixteen year old Mistress Shilah and their son, fourteen year old, Sir Jermain next weekend. I am familiar with the family - but not overly so - as my contact with them has only ever been through Master or on those occasions when the extended family has gathered together for a celebration. The last such gathering was about six months ago when Master's brother, Sir Lachlan formally presented his newly acquired slave, Jem to the family. The family has a long, proud history of white slave ownership - dating back over a hundred years - and it is committed wholeheartedly to the philosophy of Black Rule. Therefore, the family members always enthusiastically welcome a new, white slave into their circle. I learned from Master, that Sir Lachlan had known Jem for about twelve months prior to his enslavement. In accordance with Sir Lachlan's wish to wait until his son, Sir Jon turned eighteen and could be told about my true status as his uncle's white slave, Jem' presence had been kept in the background and I'd not been told about him. In August, Sir Jon had moved away to College and I had been privileged to accompany him as he moved into his new dormitory. Of course, my involvement was that of a slave. The task of moving Sir Jon's belongings had fallen on my shoulders. The morning of Sir Jon's departure for college meant I was up early to drive Master to his brother's house. There was a mixture of emotions; Master and his brother were naturally proud of Sir Jon's acceptance into such a prestigious College and coupled with this was Sir Jon's excitement at embarking on a new phase of his life. But I suspect there was some sadness on Sir Lachlan's part as he prepared to say farewell to his much loved son. And I knew Master would be similarly affected. Most probably there was also a feeling of apprehension on the part of all three of my Superiors. In all probability, my own emotions matched those of my Master. I'd know Sir Jon from his earliest years and I'd watched him play as small boy and it had always been a joy for me to serve him. I'd seen him progress through his teenage years and I'd longed for the time when he came of age and could be told that I am a slave. For years, I'd thought of the moment when I would gladly kneel naked at his feet and pay him the homage due to him as my Black Superior. That happy event happened on the occasion of Sir Jon's eighteenth birthday when my Master told his nephew of my true role and I had knelt before him as the naked slave that I am. I have to say that day was a truly emotional for me and I number it among the happiest events of my life. Of course, things changed between Sir Jon and me after that. I was no longer his uncle's kindly servant. I was his uncle's white slave and owned property and Sir Jon now treated me as such. Whenever, he visited Master's home or we visited Sir Lachlan, I fell to my knees and kissed his feet in submission. And it felt so right for me to do so. Even though I am a slave, I did feel great emotion the day Sir Jon left for college. However, as a slave I had to keep my emotions hidden within me. I felt the same pride, the excitement, the sadness and the apprehension that my three Superiors felt. But I couldn't openly show them; it would be unseemly for me to do. I serve the family but I'm not a family member and even though I love my Master with every fibre of my being I am not his equal. I am his owned property and I know that Master loves me dearly but I can only ever be his slave! And truthfully, I aspire for nothing more! The Superiors wanted to make an early start and so Master and I arrived early. While the three Superiors talked over coffee and bagels, I loaded Sir Jon's personal effects into the cars and waited until it was time to leave. Upon arrival at Sir Jon's College residence I again waited for instructions. When Sir Jon found out which dorm had been allocated to him, I was put to work carrying his gear from the cars and up the stairs to his room. This proved to be an onerous task and I made many trips between the cars and Sir Jon's room. On one such trip, I was asked by a white man. "Why are you carrying a Black man's luggage?" My reply was simple but only half true. "I am his servant!" How I'd have liked to tell him the truth; that I am a white slave who willingly serves the Black Race. At the time Master was working out of state and had returned home so that he was present when Sir Jon left for college. Master had arranged for us to spend a few days on the coast and after leaving Sir Jon and his father at the college, Master had me drive to our resort. For those few days, I was able to spend all my time with Master and to serve him devotedly. I was in seventh heaven and I enjoyed these few days. But they did highlight the fact that we now lived apart; albeit temporarily. How I missed my Master when he had to return to work. His leaving me on my own exacerbated my sadness and loneliness and I was left to impatiently anticipate his eventual return and to count the long days until then. Just a few weeks later, Master was home for a weekend visit and Sir Lachlan presented his new slave to Master for his inspection. Until then I knew nothing of Jem's existence and it came as a complete surprise to me. I wasn't aware that Sir Lachlan had intended to acquire a slave so quickly after Sir Jon's departure for college. But Jem's enslavement to Sir Lachlan did excite me. Now, perhaps I would have the companionship of a fellow slave who was to serve my Master's brother. Inevitably, we would be in close, regular contact and this pleased me. I'd been a slave for eleven years and mostly my contact with other slaves occurred when Master entertained or he visited other Superiors. A slave's life is one of service to his Master and so he shouldn't be concerned with his own needs. But even a slave - despite the fact that he lives only to serves his Master with total dedication - can at times feel some loneliness. And the thought that I would now have a slave brother in Jem was a welcome new event in my life. Because Jem was a new slave and new to the lifestyle, he had much to learn and our Masters considered that I could teach him the rudimentary rules of slave behaviour and some other necessary protocols. Master - still controlling me from out of state - ordered me to present myself to Sir Lachlan and to instruct Jem in the basics of good housekeeping and cooking. I was impressed with Jem at our first meeting. He presented well as a new slave and after a few conversations I considered that he was in every sense a true slave who'd adapt readily to serving the Black Race and that he would serve his new Master with loyalty and devotion. It seemed to me that Sir Lachlan had acquired an excellent slave to serve him. However, my high regard for Jem extended beyond that. His physical appearance also impressed itself upon me. Jem is aged in his mid-thirties and stands at 5 feet 10 inches with a swimmer's build and he has a 32 inch waist. He is very good looking with a pleasing face and has brown hair and hazel eyes. Before becoming a slave he had a light hair covering on his chest and a treasure trail that connected this with his pubes. Now of course his body is without hair and is totally smooth which is the natural condition of the white slave. Jem lost his free man's right to retain his body hair along with his freedom. The removal of his pubes, emphasises his thick, cut cock which, at rest, is approximately four inches long and when aroused it is a noteworthy seven to eight inches. His balls hang low between his thighs and he has a nice ass which is both firm and curvaceous. And I have overheard his Master tell mine that Jem's asshole is "tight". Jem speaks with a delightfully soft Southern drawl that contrasts with my own neutral New England one. In some ways his accent puts him at a disadvantage. It indicates his Southern roots and background and for most Black Masters that singles him out for special attention. In the eyes of our Black Superiors, all whites are culpable; all are guilty of crimes against the Black Race. But Southerners - given their history in the subjugation and exploitation of Blacks - are especially guilty and must perform a higher penance to atone for the sins of their ancestors. A white slave from the South is highly prized by a Black Superior and is "marked" for special treatment. Such slaves are worked harder and treated more harshly by their Masters simply because of an accident of birth. Southern-born, white slaves have a higher price to pay in white reparation to the Black Race. Jem and I have been together on numerous occasions since his enslavement. Some months back Master loaned me to Sir Lachlan to work with Jem in restoring the wooden flooring of his home. This was done over several weekends and although we were forbidden to talk other than about our work, I enjoyed our close proximity with one another. I have always enjoyed working with other slaves but somehow Jem was "special". I suppose the knowledge that he is slave to my Master's brother and that we belong to the same family connects us. Most of our work was done on our hands and knees and our asses made tempting targets for Sir Lachlan's crop. Certainly during the course of our work we felt the sharp sting of his displeasure many times. In the interim, Jem was being trained by his Master and I suspect he was subjected to harsh discipline. But what came through to me from our conversations was how badly Jem wanted to be a slave and his determination to succeed. At Easter, Sir Jon returned home for the holiday break and now Jem had two Masters to serve and two Masters to please and to satisfy. And of course, I was also subject to Sir Jon's attention and he seemed to have a particular need to control me. He would verbally abuse me and on many occasions he'd slap my face. He also said he'd like to whip me to make up for all those occasions when he couldn't. Sir Jon ruled Jem and I with a firm hand and this was watched by both my Master and Sir Lachlan. Their pride in Sir Jon's growing confidence at controlling two white slaves was very evident. Many times they laughed at Sir Jon's treatment of us. Jem and I spent our first Easter together and to mark the occasion - and to put us into a festive mood - Sir Jon decorated our testicles as Easter eggs. He painted my balls red and blue and Jem's were painted green and yellow. While he did so, our two Masters laughed heartily at our humiliation and talked enthusiastically about Sir Jon's progression into the role of a hard, Black Master. It was very clear from their comments that both father and uncle were proud of Sir Jon. As a form of entertainment for Sir Lachlan and Sir Jon, Master had Jem and I play one of his favourite games - Hunt the Easter Eggs. I have played this game several times before - always at Easter and I know the rules - but this is the first time I'd played it with Jem. The rules of the game are quite simple. Each Master has a number of Easter Eggs all coloured the same and these are scattered throughout the room. The Master's slave is required to fall to his hands and knees and to crawl around the room and to search for his Master's eggs. When the slave retrieves his Master's egg he carries it back in his mouth and places it at his Master's feet then returns to the hunt. There is a time limit set and the slave who retrieves the maximum number of eggs within that time and returns them successfully to his Master's feet is the winner. Jem and I were required to crawl on all fours and to keep our legs apart as we did so. This allowed our cocks and multi-coloured "Easter eggs" to swing freely between our legs and opened up our assholes to the Superiors' scrutiny. I'm sure we made a comical sight as we scuttled around the room searching for our Masters' eggs, picking them up in our mouths and then crawling back to place them doglike at our their feet. Certainly, the Superiors found it amusing as there was much laughter and shouting at the two of us. But we took the game very seriously. First of all, neither of us wanted to shame our Master by losing the game. To do so would cause our Master to lose face and that was unforgiveable. Always, in these games, the winning slave is rewarded and the loosing slaves punished. Eventually, I lost the game and Jem was declared the winner! Jem's prize was to be my punishment and my ass was given to him to penetrate. When Jem mounted me and as his cock entered into my ass, I felt slave humiliation. And with each lunge of his hips and as he plunged deeper into me that humiliation grew. Because I was on the "receiving end" it was easy for me to overlook Jem's own feelings. Perhaps, he felt similar shame to my own? Which one of us was the winner or the loser didn't really matter; we'd been ordered to fuck by our Superiors for their entertainment. That choice was theirs' to make and Jem had no recourse other than to obey our Masters commands. Obviously, our very public coupling was a source of great pleasure and amusement to our three Masters. Their ribald comments and laughter encouraged us. We were expected to put on a "good show" and we did our best to make the spectacle entertaining for them. Jem and I now came into more regular contact as our Masters interacted. As the weather warmed, Master organised a Saturday of intense activity in making the grounds of his house ready for spring and summer. Master had organised for Sir Lachlan and another Superior to be present and to bring their slaves, Jem and Tim with them to work alongside of me. Master had told me beforehand that I was to rise at 5.30 AM on the Saturday and to work outdoors preparing the tools and implements ready for the arrival of the other two slaves. The evening before, Master took me to a garden center where he bought all the work supplies required for the next day. Then, we continued shopping at a grocery store buying in the day's food for himself, his Superior friends and the slaves. He chose gourmet foods and wines for the Superiors and more basic "slave chow" for us. Next morning, I woke promptly at 5.30AM and crawled quietly into the bathroom for a shave and a quick shower. I took great care not to wake Master or to disturb him as he was sleeping soundly and cosily in his warm bed. I went down to the kitchen and prepared a quick breakfast of grapefruit juice, toast and coffee for myself and then went outdoors to prepare for the day. It was just after 6.00AM and the morning was cool but the day promised to be warm and I worked comfortably naked until it was time to take Master his early morning cup of strong, black coffee without sugar which he drank as I prepared his breakfast. Shortly after 8.00 AM, Sir Lachlan and the other Superior arrived with their slaves, Jem and Tim. As expected, I fell to my knees and crawled to my Master's guests and paid homage to them. Jem and Tim shucked off their clothing and naked, both slaves paid similar homage to my Master. I especially welcomed this opportunity to work with Tim. He is in a sense a brother slave to me; I first met him as a slave when I was still a free man. His Master had allowed me to talk freely with him about becoming a white slave to a Black Master. I valued his opinions then and I value his friendship now, Our Masters are friends and through their friendship and social interaction, Tim and I enjoy a special closeness as well. I like to think there is this fellowship among white slaves and that we are bound together in our common servitude to our Black Masters. Many times Tim and I have served our Masters together and of course, I was pleased to welcome Jem into our circle as a new slave brother. After giving us our instructions, Master returned to the house and left us to work on our own. An hour later Master and the other two Superiors came to check on our progress and to deliver a few cuts of the cane to our asses. Master said they were going to a golf driving range for a few hours practice and he left us with list of what chores he expected to be finished when they returned. All three of us worked hard to meet Master's demands and I took great pleasure from working alongside my two fellow slaves. The day was warm and we were perspiring with the honest sweat of our labours and from time to time we'd pause for a drink of water or to apply sunscreen to our naked bodies. Fortunately, I had already acquired a rich tan from working outdoors but I did take precautions to stop myself from burning under the sun's intensity and liberally applied the lotion to my body. My body isn't my own; it belongs to my Master and it is incumbent on me to protect his property. All three of us worked non-stop. We didn't even break to pee. If the need arose, then we simply pissed as we worked. It felt great to be working as a naked field-slave alongside of Jem and Tim. If our Masters had been present, I'm sure we'd have made a pleasing picture for them. For me personally, I loved the sight of my fellow slaves working with their cocks and balls swinging freely between their widely splayed legs and with their asses raised high and their holes stretched open to my view. We worked hard all morning to complete the tasks that Master had given us and when he returned, he inspected our work and seemed pleased with our efforts. Before moving into the house with his guests to watch a baseball game, Master gave us another list of chores he expected us to complete before the end of the day. We worked hard all afternoon and by 6.30 PM we'd finished Master's list. He and the other Superiors inspected our labours and delivered a few more cuts of their canes to our "lazy white asses" before Master dismissed us and ordered us to the pool house. There we were allowed to shower under the Superiors' watch. We were made to shower together and the Superiors joked about our naked bodies. They laughed at our white slave cocks and made ribald comments about our asses and what types of fucks we were. They especially enjoyed the sight of us washing and drying one another. After this we returned to the house where we served dinner to the three Superiors. Master had gone to a lot of effort to feed his guests with a three course meal. They began with shrimp cocktails followed by a main "surf and turf" course of prime steak and lobster tails. They finished with pastries and wines especially chosen by Master. Once our Superiors had finished dining, they allowed their slaves to eat. For our meal Master had chosen a more basic one of hamburgers and fries served in bowls on the floor. For the rest of the evening our three Masters played games with us. These included edging. The next day - Sunday - Jem and I spent the day cleaning windows. I have to say I enjoyed the weekend immensely. It was most satisfying. We'd met my Master's requirements and pleased him and as always I enjoyed the physical nature of a slave's work. I really do enjoy being a field-slave. However, there was an unfortunate consequence of the weekend that saw both Jem and I severely punished by out Masters. It was most unfortunate and can be attributed to Jem's lack of experience. But as a longer serving and more experienced slave it was a serious oversight on my part and I accept my guilt. Jem's guilt stems from his lack of awareness whereas mine was for not taking his new slave inexperience into account and watching out for his welfare. I was guilty of neglecting the property of my Master's brother. Throughout our work day, we stopped to apply sunscreen to our bodies and whilst Tim and I were old hands at this, Jem wasn't. It's true that he applied the sunscreen to his body but he neglected his cock and balls. With hindsight, I should have foreseen this and made sure that Jem was protected. But a slave can't use lack of hindsight as a excuse for his guilt. He must be alert at all times to protect his Master's property and interests. And so I had no excuse to offer to my Master for my lack of diligence. Next day, Jem was in great distress. His sunburn caused him much pain and discomfort. After the weekend, we spoke and he told that his cock was very sore and it hurt to piss. I can only imagine at how he felt. I could read his distress and his pain through his words and he told me that his Master was taking him to the Vet after work that day. Mention of the Vet brought back memories of my own recent visit to him for my annual check-up. I didn't envy Jem. Jem told me that his Master was very angry with him for allowing himself to be damaged and that he was to be caned for his carelessness. Jem told me of his fear of being punished but in fairness to his Master his punishment was warranted. Jem did need to learn the lesson that he must always be alert to protect his Master's property. My own Master told me that we were to witness Jem's caning the following weekend. He then went on to tell me that he was displeased with me and angry that I'd not taking proper care of another Superior' property. He told me that I was to be caned along with Jem. Jem and I spoke several times during the week. The threat of our punishment hung over us like a sinister, dark pall. We were apprehensive and fearful of our Masters' justifiable anger. I hate the cane and yet I knew my Master was correct and that my punishment was well-deserved. The following Saturday night, Jem and I were caned. Jem received seven strokes but mine was lighter. I received just five. But while the numbers weren't excessive, both our Masters expressed their anger through their use of the cane. Our canings were severe and among the worst that I had experienced. Jem was the first to be punished. He was ordered up onto a coffee table which also serves as a caning bench and to assume an all fours position on his hands and knees. With his ass thus positioned for the cane, his Master gave him seven strokes with all the force he could muster. Then it was my turn to mount the table and present my ass to my Master for my own punishment. The severity of my Master's caning equalled that given to Jem by his Master. Immediately after our canings, we knelt at our Masters' feet and thanked them for our chastisements and begged for their forgiveness. It would appear that our Masters have a reciprocal approach to the use of their slaves. Sometimes I am taken by my Master to Sir Lachlan's home to work with Jem in such menial chores as tidying up the yard. Then there are those times when Sir Lachlan brings Jem over to Master's to work with me. Recently, Jem and I worked together over a two day weekend. On the Saturday, we worked together to prepare Master's swimming-pool for use and on the Sunday we cleaned and prepared the barbeque area ready for his summer entertainments of other Superiors. And as we worked our Masters relaxed and kept a watchful eye on us to see that we performed our work to Master's strict requirements. Jem and I speak regularly and mostly our conversations deal with our common slavery. Jem has wholeheartedly embraced his slavery and he is committed to making himself into a good slave for his Master. I admire his enthusiasm and in some ways this helps me too. I like to think that I am both mentor and slave brother to Jem as I answer his questions, speak to his fears and listen to concerns. I hope that my own long years of service to his Master's brother do serve as an inspiration to him in his own journey into his white slavery. I know that Sir Lachlan controls Jem with a firm hand and that Jem appreciates his Master's strict training of him. I also know that Jem is apprehensive of the long summer vacation when Sir Jon will be home from college and he has to serve two Masters. Recently, Jem heard that, Sir Jon will spend a month of his vacation at our Masters' parents' out of state farm where he is to learn more about the family's heritage of Black Rule and its proud, century long ownership of white slaves. And Jem is most worried that Sir Jon will be shown stricter methods for the controlling and handling of those slaves. And later, his Master told him that he will take Jem to the farm for a week of training during Sir Jon's month long stay. Naturally, Jem feels some anxiety at the prospect of this visit. Jem's concerns are justified for I know that my Master's parents, Sir Terrell and Mistress Laqueta are indeed dedicated Black owners and possess two white slaves - one male and one female - who they rigorously ruled with strict discipline. I have been taken by Master on visits to his parents and I too have been subjected to their control. Jem's questions to me reveal his apprehension of our Masters' parents. I am always forthright in my answers and never try to minimise the fact that they are stern taskmasters. To tell him otherwise would be to undervalue their true status as Black Superiors and to mislead Jem who must adapt his servitude to their standards. He is now a slave within their extended family and he has to understand the high expectations this places upon him. His Master's proud heritage of white slave ownership demands that Jem conform to the family's high standards and live by the stringent rules that our Superiors have put into place and by which they govern our lives as their slaves. I always tell Jem that he is privileged to have been chosen to serve as a white slave to a Black Master from such an illustrious background. I believe he does understand how fortunate he is and shares in my pride that we have been chosen to serve our two Masters. Jem is under no illusions as to how he'll be treated by his Master's parents and although he is fearful, he told me that he will accept any training from Sir Terrell and he'll regard this interest in him as a great honor. I was pleased to hear Jem say this for it confirms my opinion that he will make a splendid slave for Sir Lachlan. Jem's nervousness is evident in the questions he asks me about my visits to the farm. Once again, I speak forthrightly and give him truthful answers to his questions. To do otherwise would be unfair to him and disrespectful to my Superiors. I'm not sure that I am telling him what he wants to here but I won't give him the wrong impression of what awaits him during his stay with his Master's parents. He needs to know and for me to forewarn him is to prepare him. Whenever I speak with Jem, I am reminded of my own very first visit to Master's parents shortly after my own enslavement and memories of that occasion come flooding back to me. My first visit to my Master's parents took place shortly after my enslavement. At the time I was aware of my new responsibilities as a slave but unpractised in my duties. Prior to becoming a slave, Master and I had been together in a vanilla relationship where I was happy for him to assume the leadership role and I the lesser one. I enjoyed leaving responsibility for all decisions to my more dominant partner; he chose which shows we attended and at which restaurants we dined as well as making all the major decisions affecting our household. All the time, I was being groomed to become a slave. It was my future Master's earnest desire that one day I would bow down before him and beg to serve him as his slave. Gradually he exposed me to the intellectual concepts of Black Superiority and the principles of Black Rule. With infinite patience, he helped me to see that these are the rightful and natural world order and that Blacks are meant to rule and whites to serve. Despite Master's hope that one day I would serve him as his slave, he didn't force me into slavery. Quite the contrary, he went to great lengths to show me what white slavery to the Black Race entailed. He exposed me to other Black Superiors and their white slaves and I was free to talk and question those slaves about all aspects of their servitude. Eventually, I was under no illusions as to what it meant to be a white slave to a Black Master but I yearned for it with every fibre of my being. I wanted desperately to be a slave. I'd been born with a slave's nature and temperament and suddenly the chance to fulfil my destiny presented itself. The final choice was mine and not Master's and it had taken me twelve months before that memorable night in March when I approached my partner and begged him to enslave me and to become my Master. Of course, my life changed overnight. The things that were acceptable the day before in our previous "free" relationship were no longer applicable and I had to start immediately to change my attitudes and adapt my practices to those of a slave. Master's expectations for me also underwent a drastic change. He now expected much more from me in the way his household was managed. The standards I'd used as free man fell short of those demanded of me as a slave and it was necessary for me to learn new skills that would serve my Master's best interests. My cooking skills were obviously not those that Master expected and he eventually enrolled me in cookery classes for two years where I learned to become the chef that I am. Similarly, Master enrolled me in another course where I learned the basics of home maintenance. However, the standards of my housekeeping also feel short. What was good enough previously was no longer acceptable to Master after I became his slave. Master had set newer, very high standards and I fell well short of them. Master decided I needed training in many areas including housekeeping, cooking, serving of meals, laundry and ironing. And he decided that his parents should help in my training. He arranged for us to spend two weeks at his parents' farm where I'd be schooled by Mistress Laqueta in the finer points of housekeeping and trained to work outdoors under the direction of his father, Sir Terrell. The prospect of this visit was unsettling. But this was my new Master's decision and I accepted that he knew what was best for me. Obviously in his wisdom - and something I have discovered over the years is that Black owners always know what is best for their white slaves - he knew I could only benefit from the visit. Nevertheless, I was very nervous at the prospect of meeting Master's parents. It is an eight hours drive from Master's home to his parents' and I acted in my role as slave chauffeur for my Master. Master relaxed and enjoyed the drive; I, on the other hand was extremely nervous and anxiously thinking about our arrival. I wondered how Master's parents would receive me and how I must act in their presence. I hoped that Master would help and guide me through this. I also knew that Sir Terrell and Mistress Laqueta owned two white slaves - one male and one female - and I took comfort in knowing that I wouldn't be the only slave in their home. When we arrived after our long drive, Master's parents were waiting outdoors to greet him. As I walked to the cars opposite side to open the door for Master, his parents didn't acknowledge my presence. It was as though I didn't exist. Master's parents warmly welcomed their son but continued to ignore me. Standing in the background was a naked, white, male slave who Master also ignored. After his parents had embraced Master, the slave hurried forward and knelt at Master's feet in homage. As he kissed Master's feet and welcomed him home, Master acted as though he wasn't there. This is in keeping with most Black Superiors who ignore a white slave's welcome. It is expected that we white slaves will always pay homage at the feet of our Superiors but we never expect to be acknowledged by them. However, should we fail to kneel and kiss a Black Superior's feet, then that is adversely noted and we are severely punished. I looked down on the kneeling slave with his ass raised in greeting to my Master. His legs were held apart and his balls swung between his legs while his hole was exposed to the view of all. The slave had an all over tan and I wondered if he was an outdoor field-slave. Later I am to learn that he does work in his Master's field and I was required to work alongside of him. As a new slave, I was as yet not fully used to being displayed like that and I felt the slave's humiliation. But I knew that very shortly, I would share in that humiliation as I knelt before Master's parents and paid them homage. Master and his parents moved indoors and I opened the trunk so that the slave and I could silently carry Master's luggage into the house and place it in his bedroom. It felt strange to be in the house where Master had grown up and to realize that white slavery has been practised here for many years. I realized that Master had been served by white slaves from birth and this now continues with me. And I was now a part of that long, proud tradition! Master came to collect me and to lead me into the living room where his parents were waiting. Here, for the first time, I saw their female slave as she served our Superiors with refreshments. Master presented me to his parents as his newly acquired slave, Phillip and ordered me to. "Shuck down, boy!" My initial shyness caused me to hesitate and my hesitancy angered Master who stepped forward and slapped my face. As his hand stung my cheek I felt shame that I had embarrassed my Master. "I gave you an order. I told you to shuck down. Now do it!" And to emphasise this last command, he slapped me again. Self-consciously, I was aware that both Sir Terrell and Mistress Laqueta were watching me most intently. Perhaps, they were surprised at my slowness in responding to my Master's order to shed my clothes. Certainly, Master was angry with me and justifiably so. I had disgraced him in front of his parents and caused him to lose face in their eyes. But the look in their eyes showed their approval of and their pride in their son's handling of me. Master had forbidden me to wear underwear or socks and the only items of clothing he'd allowed me to bring were the ones I was wearing. Of course, I will be kept slave naked for the next two weeks and I have no need of any other clothing. I removed my tee shirt and then my sandals and just stood in my shorts. Fearful of angering Master any further, I quickly stepped out of my shorts and stood stark naked before Master's parents and their female slave. I quickly responded to Master's order to. "Stand at display!" I stood facing Sir Terrell and Mistress Laqueta with my body held erect, my feet apart and my hands held behind my head. And I was very aware of my nakedness. However, my embarrassment wasn't caused by my exposure to Master's parents. After all, what could be more natural to them than to have me standing naked before them as their son's white slave? My embarrassment had more to do with the naked, female slave's presence in the room. Her nakedness complemented my own but it also highlighted what we truly were - two, abject, inferior, white slaves in the presence of our powerful, Black owners. Because my sexual orientation had always been gay, I had minimal exposure to females. And the presence of this female slave was one of the few occasions when I had seen one naked. However, over the coming years, Master will, from time to time, expose me to other female slaves and they'll not have the effect upon me as that slave did. With wider exposure, I will come to see them as "just slaves" like me. And there will be times when I will be forced to couple with female slaves as a source of entertainment for my Black Superiors. But on this occasion, the females slave's presence did embarrass me and added to my sense of shame. Master's parents sat and visually appraised me; all the time commenting on me and offering advice to him on how he should control me. They commented on my body shape, my general level of fitness and my pleasant good looks. Sir Terrell thought my cock was passable given that it was white slave cock and he noted - approvingly - that I was cut. My ass also seemed to meet with his approval. Throughout their discussion about me, I felt my new slave status most acutely. These Black Superiors evidently saw me as nothing more than a slave animal under inspection and they had no regard for my feelings. Since then, I have been in countless situations where Black Superiors have both visually inspected and talked about me or Master has allowed a "hands-on" appraisal of my body. On all occasions, my sensibilities were ignored and what I felt was of no consequence to them. Master invited his parents to inspect me and Sir Terrell was the first to do so. I stood perfectly still as Sir Terrell explored my body. With the confident expertise of a lifelong slave-owner his hands tested the soundness of my body and the strength of my muscles. He weighed my balls and stretched my cock. He turned me with my back to him as he inspected my rear. His hands cupped my ass-cheeks and a finger slipped into my ass-crack searching for my hole. When found, his finger gauged my hole for its tightness and its health. I was made to lift my feet while Sir inspected their soles and he ordered me to raise my arms above my head so that he could examine my arm pits. He returned to my cock and despite my shame he aroused me to a rampant erection. He stroked my cock but stopped short of masturbating me. He looked at my ears, my eyes and my nose before checking out the soundness of my teeth and the health of my gums and tongue. Satisfied he told Master. "He's a fine property!" Then it was Mistress's turn to inspect me and her inspection was a repeat of the one that Master's father's had subjected me to. She too approved of me and agreed that I was a `fine property'. Master ordered me to pay my respects to his parents. I fell to my hands and knees and crawled to them. I leant forward and kissed their feet and paid the homage due to them as their son's new, white slave. As Master and his parents relaxed over refreshments - served to them by the two slaves - the parents talked about family and also discussed me; theytalked about how I could be improved and made more amenable to Master's needs. Sir Terrell advised Master to take me in hand and to rule me with a rod of iron. I listened intently to what they said and I knew that the next two weeks would to be very hard on me as I was rigorously trained in my new slave duties. But the overall impression I gained from their comments was that they were proud of their son's ownership of me and saw this as tangible evidence of his commitment to Black Rule. And the next two weeks did prove to be extremely onerous. I slept in Master's room on the floor alongside of his bed and my days began early and finished late. There were no rest periods and no free days. Each day was one of unremitting hard labour. At times I worked with the female slave - under Mistress's direction - and I was taught the more mundane aspects of a slave's duties like scrubbing and polishing of floors, laundering and ironing of clothes and cooking and serving meals. Many times my efforts fell short of Mistress's exacting requirements and I felt the sharp sting of her slave crop on my ass and shoulders. I lost count of how many times I stood silent, red-faced and embarrassed as she harangued me for my poor performance. I don't know how many times I was forced to repeat my chores until Mistress was satisfied and gave her grudging approval for my efforts. Mistress criticised and punished me often and not once did I receive a word of praise from her. There were times when she would inspect my work and slap me for my shoddiness. I can't recall one occasion when she complimented me on a job well done. Rather than praise, I learned to accept her criticism and disapproval as my natural lot. Mistress was determined to send me away from the farm well-schooled in the duties of a slave and one worthy to serve her son. And I did learn. I was a willing pupil and wanted to please my Master and make him proud of me. That after all is a slave's highest calling - to serve his Master diligently and to give him pride of ownership in his slave. And I know that Mistress will be just as fastidious and as diligent in training Jem to serve her other son, Sir Lachlan. At other times I worked outdoors with the male slave under Sir Terrell's direction - and his strap. It's true to say that Sir Terrell intimidated me and I lived in fear of earning his disapproval. I was unused to hard physical labor and I struggled to keep up with my fitter and more experienced fellow slave. Our duties were varied and were forcibly spelled out to us by Sir Terrell. Sometimes, we worked on fence repairs, the servicing of windmills and the cleaning of water-troughs, painting and maintenance of the farm's buildings and the hand-feeding of fodder to Sir's animals. But always the work was physical, hot, dusty and very hard. I soon learned there are no easy chores for a slave on Sir Terrell's farm. Each day began early with the two of us milking the cows and finished late - again with the milking of the cows. The cattle were high maintenance and the barn where they were kept overnight needed to be "mucked out" regularly. This is a chore I truly detested. I hated the smell of cow dung that permeated the air as I worked ankle deep in cow shit clearing out the old, soiled straw from the stalls and replacing it with fresh straw. As I worked at this, I thought how fortunate the cows were to have slaves to look after them. It was as though we served not only Sir Terrell but his farm animals as well. And this essentially is what we did! The term mucking out was very appropriate; by the time we'd finished this particularly nasty chore, our naked bodies were besmirched with cow shit and we stank to high heaven. Once we'd finished, Sir Terrell and Master would lead us to a concrete slab, stand us upon it and wash us down under a high pressure, cold water hose. As we scrubbed one another's bodies our Masters would laugh and jeer at our antics. No time was wasted in putting us back to work. Our bodies were hardly dry and the hose water would still be dripping from our cocks when Sir Terrell would assign new duties to us. I discovered there are no rest periods given to a slave. A slave's labour is too important to be wasted by his inactivity. On Sir Terrell's farm, there are no idle moments given to a slave to squander. I found Sir Terrell to be a hard taskmaster and he never held back in the use of the strap he carried with him at all times. I'd experienced the cane under Master's hand but I have to say the strap, when wielded by his father, was infinitely worse. By the end of the two weeks, I understood that my Master was more lenient with me than his father and I appreciated that I was owned by a good master. I quickly gained the impression that Sir Terrell prized his four legged animals more highly than he did white slaves. Certainly, the livestock were well looked after and in prime condition and they were a testament to his good farm husbandry. He obviously had a close affinity with his livestock which apparently didn't extend to his slave. His attitude to his livestock was compassionate but he treated any slave under his control with impatient indifference. I never saw him lose patience with the animals but I did witness his harsh treatment of his male slave. The slave felt both the sharp end of his Master's tongue and the painful sting of his strap and similar treatment was extended to me as I worked at the slave's side in the fields. Both the slave and I were fearful of Sir Terrell and whenever we worked without his supervision we conscientiously applied ourselves to the tasks he'd given us as though he was present. Neither of us needed to be spurred to greater effort or speed for we knew that Sir would judge our work output next time he came to check on us. And should we fall short of his demanding expectations, we knew that he'd punish us. Our fear of his anger was that great. Nevertheless, whenever we spied Sir Terrell and my Master approaching our workplace, we instinctively increased the pace of our labor in the hope of pleasing Sir and avoiding his strap. Because I was new to slavery, Sir Terrell considered that I needed a firm hand and considered that a whipping would be beneficial to my training. At first, I sensed Master's reluctance to have me whipped but eventually he did allow it. The prospect of the whip filled me with fear and still does. Master seldom uses the whip on me and reserves it for those special punishments when my offences are so serious that any other punishment would be considered insufficient. The day of my first whipping is still vividly etched into my mind. I still recall the trepidation I felt as I was taken to the barn for my whipping. I remember the trembling limbs and the sickening fear that lay like a lead weight in the pit of my stomach as I walked behind my Superiors. As we entered the barn, the realization that my whipping was imminent made me cry and I pleaded with Master to spare me. As my arms were stretched above my head, I begged Master to spare me. Of course, my pleas went unheard and I have long since learned that once a Black Superior sentences a white slave to punishment there is no chance of a reprieve. For a Black Superior to grant leniency to a white slave would be to lose face before his peers. Nevertheless, I begged and pleaded with Master and his father to be spared. As Sir Terrell's whip fell onto my expose back and as the lash seared its terrible pain into my naked flesh, I continued to plead - vainly and uselessly. After my whipping, I kissed Sir's whipped and through my tears I thanked him for his lesson. I have been whipped several times since and I recall one such whipping which took place in the basement of Master's home. Master's brother, Sir Lachlan was present and as I counted out the number of strokes he encouraged my Master to lay on even harder with the lash. This occurred long before Sir Jon learned of my true slave status and so he wasn't present. Recently, Sir Jon said he'd like to whip me for all those occasions when he couldn't. I know Sir Jon has a poor opinion of me and I don't doubt for one minute the earnestness of his wish. Perhaps one day, his wish will prevail and Master will allow his nephew to whip me. I now live under the threat of Sir Jon's whip! As I talk with Jem about my first visit to our Masters' Parents' farm, I wonder if his impending visit will be a repeat of mine. I see no reason to suppose that it won't and I'm sure Jem will be treated in exactly the same manner as me. Nothing in the intervening years has happened to suggest that Sir Terrell and Mistress Laqueta have moderated their views on how a white slave should be trained and treated. And in a way, I have to agree with their methods. Although my two weeks visit was difficult and uncompromisingly hard, I left their farm a far better slave than when I'd arrived. Despite Mistress's cane and crop and despite Sir's strap and whip, Master's parents helped to shape me into today's slave. I'd gone to their home as an untested slave and I left as a slave with the knowledge and skills to better serve their son as his loyal and committed white slave. I owe them much! As I reflect on that visit, I recall - with gratitude- the many lessons I'd learned there. From Mistress I learned how Black Superiors expect their households to operate and how their white slaves must perform. From Sir Terrell, I learned that a white slave must be multifaceted and capable of performing any task given to him by his Black Master. My unquestioning obedience to a Superior's command and the total commitment to hard work were learned from working side by side with Sir's slave in the fields and they have added immeasurably to my service to my own beloved Master. And I hope these are the lessons that Jem will learn when his Master takes him to his parents' farm. I have no doubt that Jem will prove as good a student as I did during my visit and like me he will return home a better slave for the experience. My sincere wish for Jem is that he returns from his farm visit better equipped to serve his two Masters, Sir Lachlan and Sir Jon. What greater wish can any white slave hold for a brother slave other than to have him find fulfilment and happiness in his total servitude to the Black Race? But as Master has just informed me, I must now prepare for the visit from his uncle and his family. No doubt, Master will have much for me to attend to before their arrival at the weekend. To be continued ............................ You can access the Jean-Christophe stories by joining the archive at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

`FATHER AND SON' A Short Story This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): March 2011 "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't rewrite." Luther had told me I'd be impressed with Darnell's Slave Emporium and he isn't wrong. He'd told me everything about the building is tasteful and my dealings would be handled with the utmost discretion and privacy. The Emporium's understated street faade hides the fact that it is a clearing house for whitey slaves and the opaqueness of its frosted glass windows shield its interior from the curious eyed of the casual passer-by in the street. I am impressed and my confidence grows. Personally, I'd always considered the slave trade as sordid and those who worked in it as my social inferiors. It isn't that I am opposed to slavery. Not at all! Such a thought never enters my head. It's just that I have always viewed the `pedlars of human flesh' as boorish and uncouth. Well, that is how they always appear to me in their shonky, television advertising. But then, I don't know any slavers personally and my contact with them has been very minimal. Mainly, it has been limited to the municipal slave markets which I consider to be smelly, unsavoury places and I seldom venture into them. I really hate the malodorous squalor of these markets. And I agree with my good friend Luther Thomas that the municipal slave-markets leave much to be desired. Usually they have poor quality stock; rejects that the upmarket slave boutiques refuse to handle. And they stink to high heaven! There is something about the whitey's metabolism that offends my sense of smell. Should I be successful in buying a slave today, then I will ensure that he keeps himself clean and his body odour-free. I am in the market for a domestic slave and acting on the advice given to me by my good friend Luther - he'd recently purchased two slaves from here, one for himself and one as a Christmas present for his nephew, Max - I have come to Darnell's Slave Emporium to peruse their stock. Written on the outside of the building is a sign which tells me that Darnell's are purveyors of the finest slaves and inviting me to inspect their stock at my leisure. However, I do see that I am too early and the hours for viewing the slaves are between 10.00 AM and 3.00 PM. As it is only 8.30 AM, I decide to continue on to my office and to return later during an extended lunch break. As I turn to walk away, the door opens and I am pleasantly greeted by a young, white slave of impeccable appearance. He falls to his knees and presses his forehead to the ground as a mark of his respect to me as a Black Superior. I order him to his feet. I would prefer to look into the slave's face as I speak rather than at his upturned ass. "Stand up, slave!" "Sir, thank you. Can I be of assistance to you Sir? "I doubt it boy! I have come to inspect and perhaps to buy a slave. But I see that I am too early and that the slaves aren't available for inspection until 10.00 AM." "Sir! Please come in and allow me to fetch my master. I am sure my master will want to speak to you about your needs, Sir!" I scrutinise the slave and I like what I see. He is stark naked- this is after all standard practice for all whitey slaves - and he is a delight to the eyes. He stands at about six feet tall and weighs approximately eleven to twelve stones and his body is muscular without it being excessively so. He moves with an easy grace and as he does so, the muscles of his glabrous body ripple and flex in a most delightful way. He possesses a flawlessly smooth, ivory skin, an angular face with an aquiline nose and lustrous grey-green eyes. When he smiles - and he does so often - his full red lips part to show the pearly whiteness of his teeth. Unusually he has shoulder length jet-black hair tied back into a ponytail. I am surprised by this; most slave owners of my acquaintance have the heads of their slaves closely cropped. But I'm not opposed to it. Somehow his hair style suits the slave. And I estimate his age at somewhere between the early to mid-twenties. I remember Luther telling me how he was greeted by his new slave, Ben on his arrival at the emporium and how he'd been instantly smitten by the slave to the extent that he knew immediately that he wanted to own him. I can't say this slave has a similar effect upon me but it is obvious he has been especially chosen to serve as a `meet and greet' slave for the emporium's owners. And I have to admit; he performs the task admirably. He treats me with respectful deference and is unfailingly polite and I can't fault him. If he is a sample of the stock offered by Darnell's Slave Emporium, then I am impressed. Of course I'm not aware that the slave's actions are being monitored on CCTV which will be reviewed by his master at the end of the day and should he be found wanting then he will be whipped and returned to the pens for sale at the next scheduled auction. The slave is canny enough to realise that being the cheerful `face' for the emporium gives him an opportunity to impress any potential clients - much as Ben had done with Luther. If he ingratiates himself with them then, just possibly, he could be sold by private negotiation. Better this than face the trauma of sale by auction. Despite his efforts, I have no interest in the slave. It is my intention to return later when the slaves are available for inspection and I turn to leave. "SIR! PLEASE allow me to fetch my master to talk to you. Please Sir!" There is a note of urgency in the slave's voice. It is as though he is pleading with me to stay and talk to his master. Nevertheless, I disregard him and I'm totally unprepared for what happens next. The slave falls to his knees and begins to plead. "Sir, please talk to my Master? Please. My master will be angry when he learns that I have allowed you to leave before he has a chance to greet you. Sir, he will punish me severely for my dereliction of duty." I detect the note of fear in the slave's voice as he desperately pleads with me. My first impulse is to ignore him. After all I'm not concerned whether his master punishes him. If he offends his master then, of course, he must be punished but that will be his master's decision and it is unfair of the slave to try and involve me. Momentarily, I experience a flash of anger at the slave's presumption in seeking to attach blame to me for any potential chastisement he will receive. However, I'm not an unkind person - even to a whitey slave - and I agree to speak to his master. The slave is obviously relieved and to my embarrassment he drops to his knees and kisses my feet as he thanks me most profusely. Once more I order him to his feet and instruct him to fetch his master. He hurries off and returns within a couple of minutes with Richard Darnell, the proprietor of the Emporium. I offer my hand in greeting and introduce myself. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Cleavon Sonntag. And you must be Richard Darnell? You come highly recommended, Mr Darnell. One of my work colleagues speaks glowingly of you and the quality of your livestock. It is at his suggestion that I am here." "And who might that be, Mr Sonntag?" "Luther Thomas. I believe he did business with you some months ago - around Christmas time." "Ah yes! I remember Luther. In fact, he made two purchases from me. One was a young Australasian slave he bought as a present for his nephew and the other -if my memory serves me correctly -was for his own use. But I recall both purchases. They were prime young whiteys; truly magnificent slaves. I wonder, have you heard how both slaves fared? "Yes indeed, I do know Mr Darnell. In fact, it was after I'd visited Luther's home and saw the slave - I think his name is Ben - when I decided I should follow suit and acquire a slave for my use. Ben is a delightful slave -happy, courteous, loyal and steadfast in his resolve to do all within his power to please his Master. And those are the qualities that I'm looking for in my purchase." "Yes, I remember Ben. He was here for several months before I sold him to Luther. He served as our door slave and I didn't have one complaint about him. Quite the contrary, we received many compliments on his pleasant demeanour and we had many offers to buy him. But I had given Luther first right of refusal. So I take it Luther is happy with his new slave?" "He's very happy, Mr Darnell. He told me that Ben - unlike his older slave, Tim required the minimum of training. He hardly needed to cane or whip Ben who proved a willing pupil. Why, Luther told me the other day that Ben bends over to please him." "As he should, Mr Sonntag. As he should! But tell me.... does Luther still have his older slave?" "Yes he does. Luther is very attached to his slave Tim but he did confide in me recently that there are insufficient duties for both Tim and Ben and that he will have to get rid of Tim to make way for Ben. So I wouldn't be surprised if you have a visit from him soon to arrange Tim's sale." "I'm always happy to oblige and should Luther wish it then I'll happily handle the sale of his slave. There's always a demand for well-trained, docile slaves to act as a `house whitey'. But what of the other slave - the Christmas present to Luther's nephew? How did he fare?" "From what I understand, he wasn't as easy to train as Ben. I gather there was some emotional baggage with that boy and it had to be beaten out of him. I heard from Luther that the slave had to be regularly caned or whipped to get him to toe the line. But the last I heard, he has buckled down and is now quite happy in service to his young Master, Max. Presently, he serves Luther's nephew as his body slave at College." "Ah! So the slave is sampling college life. I wonder what subjects he's studying. From what I remember about the slave he's eminently suited for extra-curricular activities. I should think his Master assigns lots of homework to him. And who could blame him? That slave is superb. But tell me. How can I be of assistance to you, Mr Sonntag? " "Perhaps, if I tell you a little about myself it might help, Mr Darnell." "Please do! But let's not be so formal, Mr Sonntag. Call me Richard." "Thank you Richard and my name is Cleavon by the way." "Well Cleavon! Tell me something of your background. What are your requirements and what type of a slave are you looking to purchase?" "Richard, really there's not much to tell. I'm a widower and live with my teenaged son, Du-Shaunt on a small holding on the outskirts of town. However, the house is large - too large for me to maintain - and I now find I have to travel extensively with my work. This means that my son is left alone and this worries me. I thought if we have a slave in the household, then he could take care of Du-Shaunt while I'm away. And of course the slave will need to keep house and maintain the grounds. So basically, there it is. Do you have a suitable slave in stock?" "And how old is Du-Shaunt?" "He's eighteen and quite involved in his college work. That's the other reason why I need a slave. During my absences, I don't want Du-Shaunt interrupting his studies or skipping meals." "Ah! Du-Shaunt is quite the young adult and well able to control and manage a house slave in your absence. But your concern is understandable, Cleavon. It does you credit. Please continue." "In fairness to Du-Shaunt, I want to spend all my available free time with him and not be tied down with tiresome house chores and an endless routine of gardening and grounds keeping. I need a slave to relieve me of these burdens. I have discussed this with Du-Shaunt and he enthusiastically supports the idea to such an extent that I have promised to let him help me to make my final choice. That's why I'm here; to do some preliminary scouting before Du-Shaunt and I make our final selection." "Cleavon, I'm sure we'll find the ideal slave for you. I always tell my clients there's a slave to suit all requirements. But tell me more about your property. How large is it? And how big is the house?" "Well Richard, as I said the grounds are extensive and the house has five bedrooms, three bathrooms and large formal and informal living areas. As you can imagine Richard, all this is beyond me. I find all my spare time is spent with house work and outdoor maintenance. Oh! I forgot to mention the swimming -pool, the spa and sauna and the barbeque area." "That all sounds very impressive, Cleavon. With all that to care for you certainly do need a suitable slave to assist you?" "Well not so much to assist me, Richard. I'm looking for a slave who can do all the work around the house and grounds and leave me free for my work and to allow me to spend all my leisure time with Du-Shaunt." "Well, we have any number of slaves capable of meeting your requirements. In fact, our pens have just been replenished with a shipment of new stock. Would you like to inspect them, Cleavon?" "Of course, Richard! That's the purpose of my visit. To see if I can find a slave to suit my needs." "What exactly do you have in mind, Cleavon? Do you have any particular type of slave in mind?" "Not really, Richard! I've kept an open mind and thought I'd see what you have on offer. But I have to admit I was quite taken with Luther's two purchases.... Ben and the Australasian slave. If my memory serves me correctly, I think his name was Kurt. Do you have anything like those two boys in stock?" "I'm sure we do, Cleavon. But to be honest, most of our current stock is fresh off the trucks just last evening and I haven't had time to inventory them as yet. But other than them, we do have a few exotics - although they are locals and not imports like the slave, Kurt. I'm sure we can find you a slave that will meet with your approval." "Great! I look forward to inspecting them." "In that case, let me take you over to our holding pens and you can inspect the slaves in the pens at your leisure. Should any catch you eye then I can have them removed from the pens and taken to one of our inspection salons for closer scrutiny. But I must warn you. As most of them have just arrived, they haven't yet been processed so you might find them a little on the rough side." "What do you mean, by not being processed, Richard?" "Well we haven't as yet cleaned them up after their trip from interstate. Consequently they are malodorous. They came to us in slave transporters and I believe the trip took two days and one night. So as you can imagine, after being crammed tightly against one another for that period of time, they're .... How can I describe them ....? I suppose there is no other way of putting this delicately ..... they're pretty shitty and on the nose." I suppose to be forewarned is to be forearmed and Richard had done the correct in preparing me. But as we exit the calm, air-conditioned luxury of the main building and cross the internal courtyard to the holding pens, my nose detects the distinctive slave odour of unwashed bodies, excrement, urine and vomit - and crinkles in disgust. I am reminded of the municipal slave pens that I find so distasteful. I find the slaves' stink to be off-putting and I am tempted to call a halt to my inspection. However, Richard has been kind enough to allow me to peruse his livestock before the official inspection hours and it would be discourteous of me to walk away now. And really it isn't his fault; if I'd come later in the day, I don't doubt that his stock would be clean and sweet-smelling. And as if to emphasise this point, I watch as a group of ten, heavily chained slaves are whip driven out of the holding pens and across the yard to the ablution block. Richard instructs the overseers to halt the slaves so that I can look at them. At first glance these slaves are a sorry looking lot. They are young, adult males and of course all are as naked as the day their mothers gave birth to them. I see confusion and fear written on their faces and their wild-eyed expressions are those of trapped animals. I wonder about their backgrounds and about the reasons they are now slaves. Are they court sentenced slaves or they are `harvested' stock gathered up by slavers raiding their remote communities and carrying them off into captivity? At the time of the "Great Reversal" which saw the ultimate triumph of Blacks over the Caucasian race, many thousands of whiteys chose not to live under our benign dictatorship and deserted the cities they had once dominated. They retreated into the remote, unpopulated, heavily forested and arid areas of the planet and set up small, self-contained communities where they now live free from Black Domination. Here they live at subsistence level s maintaining herds of cattle and goats and eking out just enough crops to feed their families. Of course, the "Reversal" took place some one hundred and fifty years ago and the former `unified' - and I use the word advisedly - white society has fragmented even further into what can loosely be called a state of tribalism. I have read media reports of how these remote white tribes are constantly at war with one another over land disputes and the stealing of one another's females and livestock. It occurs to me that nothing much has changed in the white psyche. The whitey remains competitive and warlike by nature as always. And in recent years these remote communities have become rich, "harvesting fields" for white slaves. Our cities are still the principal recruiting grounds for most of our white slaves. Our zero tolerance of bad behaviour among our white subjects ensures that the courts are a continuing supply source of slaves to meet our affluent society's ever growing demand for domestic servants. These urban whiteys are eagerly sort after. Considered to be tame, these urban slaves settle readily into their lives of servitude and are easy to train. Consequently, they fetch high prices at auction. But the wild whitey slave - those harvested in the remote areas - is a very different animal. He is unused to contact with the Black man and unused to our ways. Indeed, for many, their first sighting of a Black man is usually when he is captured by them. They remain resentful almost to the point of rebelliousness and must be trained with an iron fist. Such a wild slave is difficult to domesticate and in the main he is used for heavy duty work on our farms, in our factories, mines and quarries. And they are used to a large extent in our construction industries. The market for this latter type of slave is a growing one and in recent years many enterprising Black adventurers conduct slave-raiding expeditions into these remote white areas. It is a high risk enterprise; these white areas are wild, lawless zones where the Black man is seen as a predatory enemy. But the returns are great and many slavers are prepared to risk their safety in the interest of a quick profit. Unfortunately, many a Black slaver has paid the ultimate cost with his life. Far more adept are our Arab brethren. They have a thousand years' history of slave taking and this makes them far more successful than the Black slaver. The Arab slavers are cunning and possess a stealth that allows them to surround a whitey village in the pre-dawn darkness without detection. The unsuspecting whiteys, slumbering peacefully in their homes, are taken by surprise and within minutes they are stripped naked and securely fastened into a coffle. Then they begin their long journey into slavery. The absence of roads in the white areas mean the new slaves must be driven, on foot and under the whips of their captors, to distant distribution centres where they are" sold on" to the wholesalers who then sell them to the city merchants like Richard Darnell. I am curious about the origin of these ten slaves and ask Richard if they are tame, urban slaves or newly taken wild ones. I suspect the latter and Richard confirms that they are. They certainly have an air of wildness about them. In the main they are young- I estimate the oldest to be no more than mid-thirty at the most - and all have long, shoulder length hair and are heavily bearded. Their chests, bellies and limbs have a covering of body hair and this is in sharp contrast to our domestic slaves who all have cropped heads and smooth, hairless bodies; we even routinely remove a slave's pubes for hygienic reasons. Personally, I'd always preferred a slave with a glabrous body but something about these ten slaves fascinates me. Their body hair adds `something' to their allure and I am fascinated by it. It's true that their body hair gives them a primitive, untamed look but it also hints at their bodily strength and adds to their masculine physicality. I quite like it. All ten have superbly well-developed bodies as you would expect from those who must work hard to survive and they are of a uniform build and height. But that is where their uniformity ends for each has a different hair colouring. This disparity of hair colour in the whitey has always intrigued me. I accept the conventional wisdom of this as another example of the inherent `weaknesses' in the Caucasian races. It is evidence of the fragmentation - and I would add the degeneration - of the white man in his evolution. I recall one lesson at school when a wise teacher likened the evolution of the human race to that of a mighty tree. I recall vividly that he told his students the strong trunk of this `evolutionary tree' is the superior Black Race whose extensive roots are firmly planted in the rich nurturing soil of Mother Africa and the spreading, primary branches represent our brethren the Arabs and other coloured races. The tangle of weak, spindly growth at the end of these strong branches is synonymous with the fragmentation and multiplicity of the white races. This vision of the `tree of evolution' has stayed with me. And as I look upon these ten slaves I see the living proof of it. At one end of the colour spectrum are the blonds while at the opposite end are those with black hair. The hair colouring of the other slaves varies between these two extremes. One individual even has bright red hair, milky white skin and a face and shoulders covered in freckles. I know such a slave isn't suited to outdoor labour - his tender skin would frizzle in the sun's intensity - and he will be sold for indoor duties. And I know some buyers would see his red hair and freckles as a novelty. However, I don't! But one slave does interest me. He is the oldest of the ten and I guess him to be in his mid-thirties. What is it that attracts me to him? Certainly he is an impressive slave with a magnificent physique and a prominent musculature. He has a thatch of unruly, blond hair with bangs that hang down over his forehead and a matching beard. His strong, handsome features are dominated by his noble nose and full red lips. And his eyes are the rich azure colour of a sparkling sea. His chest and limbs all have a light dusting of hair the same colour as that on his head and he has a delightful treasure trail of slightly darker hair trailing down over his ribbed belly to his pubes; the thick golden bush does nothing to hide his prodigious genitalia. I notice that he is uncircumcised and smile inwardly at the thought that he is blissfully unaware that he is soon to lose his prepuce. In our society no slave is allowed to retain his foreskin and our laws prescribe that all newly enslaved whiteys must be circumcised. The slave has broad shoulders and his back tapers down to a narrow, trim waist that flares out into the full, rounded curves of his muscular buttocks. If there is a fault with the slave it is that the deep tan of his body is broken by the lighter coloured tan of his ass and midriff. Quite obviously, he was an outdoor worker - most probably a peasant farmer - and worked semi-naked. I dislike this break between the colour of his upper torso and his muscular legs but I consider this is a minor fault and not irredeemable. Working fully naked in the outdoors would soon correct this anomaly in his overall appearance. But then I notice the slave's touching concern for a younger slave who is chained next to him. At first, I am puzzled by this; the notion that slaves have emotional feelings is something I've never considered. Momentarily, I feel sympathy for the slaves but then I tell myself that I am moving into unfamiliar territory. As a Black Superior, I should only ever view a white slave as I would any other domestic animal. The younger slave is obviously distressed and I can see that he is crying. Touchingly, the older slave takes him into a tight embrace and this attracts the attention of the overseers who use their whips to separate the two slaves. Richard tells me such displays of affection between slaves are actively discouraged. The older slave reacts angrily and lunges at his tormentors only to be restrained by his chains. Such defiance isn't to be tolerated and the whips fall repeatedly on his unprotected body until he falls to his knees in submission. It is then that I see the striking resemblance between the two slaves. They are as alike as two peas in a pod. Surely they are brothers? My curiosity is aroused and I ask Richard if this could be so. "It's quite possible that the two are related, Cleavon. After all, if they are from the same village then it is highly probable. Let's ask them, shall we?" "Slave," Richard addresses the older slave, "are you two related in any way?" The slave glares at Richard with hate-filled eyes and maintains a sullen silence. However, it is to be his last act of rebellion and I'm sure he doesn't notice Richard's slight nod of the head to his overseers. Reacting quickly to Richard's unspoken instruction, they lay into the younger slave and whip him to his knees. "STOP IT! STOP IT!" The older slave pleads with Richard. "He's my son! Please stop?" To say I am amazed is an understatement. It hardly seems possible that these two slaves are father and son. The older slave seems too young to have sired such a well-developed son. I estimate that the father is roughly twice the age of the son. So if the father is aged in his mid-thirties then the son would be aged seventeen or eighteen. But I have to say the father is very young looking and would pass as his son's older brother. I suppose these primitive whites in their remote communities do start to procreate at a much earlier age than we do. "Tell me boy! You were taken together? Is that correct?" "YES!" The older slave's answer is curt and lacks respect and this angers Richard. Viciously, he delivers two stinging slaps; the first to the right side and the second to the left side of the slave's face with such force that the slave staggers under its impact. "SLAVE! I own you and you will address me as Master until such time as you are sold to a new Master. Do you understand me? Defy me and your son will be punished in your place. Do you understand me?" "Yes...." The slave hesitates, but then accepts the inevitable, "....... Master." "Then answer me boy! Were you taken together and tell me about your background." I listen as the slave tells us about his capture and enslavement. He'd been a member of a small community of white subsistence farmers in a semi-arid area. Recently, the community had harvested their crops and as was their custom they'd marked the occasion with a day and night of feasting and dancing. They'd also indulged heavily in a heady, intoxicating brew of fermented barley and had fallen into a drunken stupor unaware that their village had been marked as a target by Arab slavers. Too late, they awoke to find themselves under attack and in their drunken state they were no match for the Arabs. Within the hour, the villagers were stripped naked and chained into two, segregated coffles; one for the adult males and the other for the women and children and as they were driven into their new captivity, their village was torched. The slave relays to us a graphic story of the long march overland to a far distant distribution centre. He tells us of the heat, the insects, the hunger and thirst and of the brutality of their new Arab masters. He tells us of the heavy chains that weighed them down and of the savage whips that kept them moving. I listen with growing sympathy as he speaks of the dehumanisation of his family and fellow villagers and of their relegation to the level of animals. He tells of the shame they felt in their new nakedness and of the lack of privacy that forced them defecate and urinate in front of each other. But then he breaks down and weeps as he tells us of his pain at being separated from his wife, younger son and daughter. The last he saw of them was on their arrival at the distribution centre where they were separated as he and his son were placed in the holding pens for adult, male slaves. Tearfully, he tells us. "My son is all I have left of my old life and I love him. Please don't separate us, Master." I have to admit, I found his story to be heart wrenching; his pain and suffering are all too evident. This is an aspect of slavery I am only vaguely aware of and I've never bothered myself with it. And why would I? In our society we have enthusiastically embraced slavery as an integral part of our culture. We are surrounded by our slaves. They are ever present yet we don't really see them. They live side by side with us and yet we ignore their pain and deny them their emotions. And we never consider how we come by our slaves. That is a subject we never discuss. Slaves appear in our auction-houses - we take that for granted - and we never ask how they arrived there. Perhaps we find that question as too confronting and choose to ignore it. It is much like the meat we buy in our well-stocked supermarkets. As we dine on our roast dinners and tuck into our king sized steaks do we consider the fattening pens and the abattoirs? Of course we don't! These two slaves intrigue me and I want to inspect them. The fact that they are father and son fascinates me. Could it be that I, as a father with a son of a similar age to the young slave standing dejectedly with his father, feel sympathy for their plight? And as though he is reading my mind the father falls to his knees before Richard and begs. "Please Master let me stay with my son. Please Master don't separate us." The son takes his cue from his father and falling to his knees, he adds his pleas to those of his father. "Please Master! Let me stay with my dad. Please Master! Please......." It is at this moment that I decide I want these two slaves. I tell myself that I have enough work for two slaves; the house and its extensive grounds would keep both slaves gainfully employed. I'd come to the market this morning to buy one slave. Now I am to buy two - a father and son pairing. But first I need to scrutinise them further. But their filth covered bodies repulse me and they will need to be cleaned up before I could touch them. I ask Richard's permission to examine them in the more salubrious surroundings of an inspection salon. He hesitates. "Are you sure about this, Cleavon? Remember they are wild, untamed slaves and I think you will have your work cut out to break them. Let me show you some of our tame whiteys. I would strongly recommend it. I'm sure one of them will suit your needs better than these two." Richard is right. The father and son are `unbroken and untested' and it will take much effort on my part to turn them into the docile, obedient slaves that I require them to be. They present me with a challenge but it is one that I want to meet. For some unknown reason, I am attracted to both the father and the son and I know they will sorely test my patience as I break their spirits and bend them to my will. I promise myself that I will domesticate them and that I will have my own son, Du-Shaunt to assist me. And the irony of the situation doesn't escape me. The thought of these two slaves - father and son - serving me and my own son - excites me. My mind is made up. I want these two slaves. "Richard, these two boys interest me. I know they are new to slavery and will try my patience but there is something about them that challenges me. Richard, I need look no further. I want these two slaves." Both father and son have been listening to our conversation and now they kneel at my feet and beg me to buy them. As the father kisses my feet, his tears darken the leather of my shoes. "Please Sir!" the father begs. "Buy us and keep us together please Sir. You won't be sorry! We'll both serve you faithfully, Sir!" "Very well, Cleavon," Richard sighs, "I can see you have made up your mind. I'll have these two boys cleaned up and taken to an inspection room for you. But I'm sorry! Their preparation will be superficial; just a hosing and a scrubbing down with soap to remove the travel grime and filth. There isn't time to groom them or to cut their hair, to shave their beards and to remove their body hair." "Their body hair doesn't concern me at all, Richard. In fact, I will allow both slaves to retain it. I think it gives them an exotic look." I look at down at both slaves crouching at my feet. With their foreheads pressed to the ground and their asses elevated, I watch the nervous quivering of their powerful back muscles. I wonder - how would I react if it were Du-Shaunt and I who were kneeling naked at the feet of a whitey master? Would I - like this father - beg not to be separated from my son? The answer is plainly obvious. Yes, I would! I would beg with all my heart and with every fibre of my being. I would humble myself at his feet and tearfully plead... just as this father is doing. I love my son, Du-Shaunt that much! >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

PHILLIP'S STORY Chapter 2 "Conversations at the Dinner Table" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) An archive of my stories can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please, respect the integrity of this story and don't rewrite" Conversations at the Dinner Table: My birthday dinner is a lively and enjoyable affair for the three of us. But I imagine it is less so for Phillip. Uncle Kyle is placed at the top of the table and my father sits facing him at the opposite end. I sit on the right side and in the past Phillip would've sat opposite me, uncomfortably clothed, awkwardly silent and picking at his food. But then, I'd thought of Phillip as a manservant and companion to my uncle. Today, I was told the truth about Phillip. He is Uncle Kyle's white slave. Phillip the slave is now a silent witness to our meal and a mute listener to our conversation. Today, he stands some five or six feet to the left of his Master and faces us with his hands clasped behind his back and his legs planted some fifteen to eighteen inches apart. His eyes are focused resolutely on the table anticipating our every need as we eat. Phillip is naked and his stance affords the three of us an excellent view of his cock and balls. I'm distracted by this and my gaze keeps wandering back to Phillip and this doesn't go unnoticed by my uncle. "Phillip is quite delightful isn't he Jon? Do you like what you see?" How do I answer my uncle's very leading question? Of course Phillip is delightful and the sight of his naked body excites me. It's as well for me that I am sitting with my legs under the table. My pony is saddled up and ready to bolt and furiously kicking at his stable door for release. I struggle to retain my composure and to sound non-committal as I answer. "Yes he is Uncle Kyle. Does he always stand naked like that while you eat your meals?" "Jon, Phillip is always naked in front of me - it's his natural state. I wouldn't have him any other way nor would Phillip want to be dressed. He's well used to going without clothes and is quite comfortable in his nudity. That's so isn't it Phillip?" "Yes Master! It's an honour for you to see me naked." "Good boy!" Uncle Kyle's acknowledgement of Phillip is both dismissive and patronising and I wonder how Phillip feels about this. Does he feel slighted or humiliated by my uncle's treatment of him? Surely he must do so. I know I would feel great resentment towards any man who treated me like this. And I know I would show my displeasure by answering back. But then I realise Phillip isn't me. I am a black superior and he is an inferior white and he has voluntarily accepted his status as my uncle's slave. How did that come about? Phillip puzzles me very much. Today, Phillip has aroused my curiosity in so many ways. He presents me with so many questions that I want answered and I must know more about him. Uncle Kyle, why is Phillip standing in that position? Do you make him stand like that?" "Indeed I do Jon! There are various `slave' positions that he must assume. I set these very early on in our relationship and trained him into them. It was very much a situation of `trial and error' and `practice and punishment' at first but eventually I managed to instil them into him. Now of course they are so deeply ingrained into his consciousness that he does them instinctively. He's currently in the modified display position that he maintains as I eat." "What do you mean by modified display and why do you make him stand like that?" "Earlier today when I first presented him to you, he stood at `full display' with his hands behind his neck. That's a bit too formal for the dining room - and I should think it would be uncomfortable for Phillip to stand like that for too long - so I allow him to `stand easy' in-between serving me. Why do I have him stand like that? Jon, I thought that would be obvious. Phillip provides me with eye candy as I dine. It's so that I can look at his cock and balls. And you have to admit they are quite an eyeful." Indeed they are an eyeful and I can't take my own eyes away from them. The room is comfortably warm and Phillip is relaxed. His scrotum is soft and pliable and hangs loosely from his body. His two, larger than average balls swing pendulously between his outstretched legs and they are hanging low; this evening, Phillip is living testimony to the expression - `low hangers.' His cock is cut and I guess its length - in the resting position - at somewhere between three to four inches and I do wonder about its full potential when he is aroused. The cock sits slightly askew on top of his ball sac and I notice the occasional stirrings of life as it gives either a slight twitch or an involuntary jerk. The flaring, mushroom shaped cock head has a prominent `eye' that gives it a cheeky appearance and yes, Phillip is an eyeful and I envy my uncle in his possession of such a desirable white slave. We have finished our first course of a delicious, light French onion soup and Phillip moves quickly and silently to clear away and make ready for the next course. I know from past experience that Phillip is an excellent cook and if the soup is anything to go by then I look forward to the next course. I'm not to know that Uncle Kyle had carefully chosen tonight's menu especially for me and given Phillip specific instructions as to how it's to be prepared. We continue talking as we wait for Phillip's return but he seems to be inordinately slow in bringing in the main course. Uncle Kyle is a stickler for punctuality and correct procedure and I sense something is amiss with him. I know my uncle's moods and I can tell by the impatient drumming of his fingers on the table that he is becoming annoyed. Grumpily, he mutters something that sounds very much like. "What's that slave up to? What on earth is he doing? Really this is too much." Finally, his patience exhausted, he excuses himself and hurries out to the kitchen. "Excuse me while I go and see what's delaying our main course. Really Phillip's behaviour is inexcusable." My father looks at me and winks knowingly. "I think Phillip is in trouble. He's upset his Master and he'll pay dearly for that." We listen to my uncle's angry admonishment of his slave. His words are indistinct but their intent is all too plain. And my father is correct - Phillip is in trouble. What has he done to incur Uncle Kyle's wrath? I strain vainly to hear my uncle's loud questioning of Phillip but his anger makes his word unintelligible and Phillip's replies are barely audible and they are interspersed with a series of loud, slapping sounds. Obviously Uncle Kyle has found it necessary to chastise his slave. Uncle Kyle resumes his seat as Phillip hurriedly brings the next course to the table. I watch Phillip as he serves my uncle before moving to my father's end. Phillip is crestfallen and his face is suffused a bright crimson. I wonder is this because of his shame at his very public humiliation at my uncle's hands or is it because of his disappointment at `letting down' his Master. Perhaps there are elements of both. Then I notice the darker splotches on both sides of his face that give evidence to it be slapped - hard. And as he walks towards my father I also see the bright red imprints of my uncle's hand super imposed over the cane stripes on his ass. The slave is walking proof of his Master's anger. "What was the problem? What has the boy done?" My father's use of `boy' to describe Phillip takes me by surprise. As far as I know, Phillip is roughly equivalent in age to my father and uncle and to call him `boy' seems derogatory and highly offensive. I'm yet to learn the etiquette that governs the rules for addressing a slave. I will learn that for a slave the word `slave' is interchangeable with his `given' name or the name his Master permits him to have. And that my father is correct in his use of `boy' to refer to Phillip. It is normal practice to speak of another man's slave as `boy'. But my father's use of it for the first time in my presence sounds so demeaning. "Rather it was a case of what he'd not done. He'd not carried out my instructions." My uncle's anger with Phillip is still evident. "I'd gone to the trouble this morning of instructing him precisely on how I wanted things done this evening. I'd told him tonight's dinner was special to me as it is Jon's birthday and I wanted things to flow smoothly. I'd carefully chosen the menu and given him instructions on its preparation and he failed me." "How did he fail you? Everything looks alright to me." My father glances at his plate but persists with his question." "He'd forgotten to make the gravy beforehand as I'd instructed him to do this morning. That's the reason for the delay in serving us. He'd been instructed this morning that I wanted no delays in between the courses. When I went out to see what was holding him up he was hurriedly making it and no doubt hoping that I was too busy entertaining you to notice. I caught him red-handed in his dereliction of duty. Stupid slave apologised and told me he'd forgotten. Forgotten! I'll teach him not to forget. He'll be punished later for his lack of attention to my instructions." "How will you punish him Kyle? Will you give him another caning?" "No, not this time I afraid! He was caned yesterday for his slackness. That should have smartened him up and made him more attentive. Apparently it didn't. Tonight's episode calls for something more drastic. I'll use the whip on him tonight." Phillip is standing on my left serving me as Uncle Kyle speaks of the whip. I notice his barely audible gasp and the slight trembling in his arms as he places my plate on the table before me. Obviously the whip frightens him. His close proximity to me is unsettling. His naked body is just inches away from me and I have to force myself to resist the urge to reach out and fondle him. His genitals are that enticing. He has a delicious, manly smell about him; it is faintly suggestive of the soap and shaving cream that he obviously uses in the shower. The threat of the whip is causing him to sweat slightly and the pheromones his fear releases intoxicate me. Beneath the table my own cock strains uncomfortably and its wild throbbing borders on the almost painful. My need for release is desperate and uppermost in my thoughts is the one that this beautiful white `boy' serves my uncle as a slave. At that moment, I solemnly promise myself that I too will own a white slave of my own just as soon as it is practical for me to do so. But tonight, I envy my Uncle Kyle. The thought that Phillip is to be whipped doesn't help to settle me. In fact, it just heightens the precariousness of my `situation'. The realisation that my uncle has this power over Phillip is an intoxicating and highly charged one. The notion that a black superior can do this to a white slave only adds to my growing belief in the tenets of Black Rule. Is it really the true destiny of the black man is to have sovereignty over the white man? Is it pre-ordained for the black man to be the Master and is it the natural order of things for the white man to serve him as his slave? On my eighteenth birthday, I now accept my manifest destiny is one day to possess my own white slave like my Uncle Kyle. Phillip busies himself pouring wine into our glasses. He is most solicitous as he does so and it obvious from looking at him that he is shattered by his Master's displeasure with him. His eyes are brimming with his tears and I suppose they are caused by his fear of the whip. But I am wrong. If I could read his mind I would see that this isn't so. His tears aren't for him; they are for his Master and the embarrassment he has caused him. He is profoundly disappointed that he has shamed his Master in front of his guests. Soon, I'll realise there is so much I don't know about a slave's state of mind and that there is much I'm yet to learn. But discovering these things will be exciting as I begin my journey of self-discovery on the road to one day becoming a black Master. Phillip has regained his composure and is standing once more at his Master's side in the modified display position. His eyes are fixed firmly on us as we eat and he only breaks position to step forward to top up our wine glasses. He does this without prompting from my uncle and obviously he is well trained in anticipating the needs of his Master's guests. The main course is scrumptious and consists of my favourite meal of tender roast beef, Yorkshire pudding, baked potatoes and green vegetables. Obviously the menu was chosen with me in mind and Phillip - superb chef that he is - has surpassed himself. The meat is tender and melts in my mouth and, unthinkingly, I compliment Phillip on it. "Phillip, this meal is great. Thank you!" Uncle Kyle gently rebukes me for my faux pas. "Jon, you never thank a slave for his services." He chides. "Remember a slave is only carrying out his Master's instructions and doesn't require thanking for doing so. That is expected of him. I know all this is very new to you but you do need to remember it is the Master you compliment and not his slave. Some could see this as a breach of etiquette." "I'm sorry Uncle Kyle." My answer is contrite. "I didn't mean any offence, really I didn't." "I know you didn't Jon and no offence is taken. Take it as a lesson learnt. My boy, there is so much you need to know and understand about keeping a slave of your own. Is there anything you want to ask me about Phillip?" "Yes Uncle Kyle. There are so many things I want to know and so many questions I want to ask." "Then fire away! Don't be shy, you can ask me anything you want and I'll answer truthfully." "Well for a start. Who chose the menu for this evening's dinner? It's my favourite and it's delicious." "I did Jon. As I do with the rest of the menu. Every Friday night I give Phillip the menu for the next week and a list of the food we need and then Saturday morning he shops for it." "Does Phillip ever get sick? And what happens if he does, Uncle Kyle?" "Good question, Jon. Phillip rarely ever gets sick - he's disgustingly healthy, thank goodness. But I do take him to the slave vet for an annual check-up and a `flu vaccination. So that keeps him in good shape and of course his outdoor duties keep him fit." "You take him to a veterinarian - like a pet animal?' "Sorry Jon! It's a figure of speech. No I take him to a real doctor who in addition to his usual patients caters for a special clientele like me; Masters who own slaves. Of course he handles slaves differently to his more regular patients and when he treats them he sees himself more of a vet than a doctor and likes to be called such. He is a slave owner himself so he understands the special needs of a Master. We Masters refer to the doctor as a slave vet." "That's so humiliating, Uncle Kyle. That's treating a slave as though he is a pet animal." "Well in some Masters' eyes there's not much difference between their slaves and their pets. Jon your questions are good ones and they show an intelligent interest. Do you have any more you want to ask?" "OK then! Why are you whipping Phillip? That seems harsh punishment for such a trivial matter as forgetting to make the gravy." From my question it could appear that I have a degree of sympathy for Phillip. But this isn't so. My question is prompted by my need to know more about his upcoming punishment. And as I think about this, I wish I could be present to witness to it. "It's true that forgetting to make the gravy is only a minor offence, Jon. But that's not the issue here. The real issue is that Phillip did not obey my orders. I'd gone to great pains to stress to him how I wanted things done this evening and that should have been an end to the matter. Caught out by me, he tells me he forgot to make the gravy earlier. That tells me he wasn't paying attention to my instructions to him or he was simply being slack. Neither is an option for him. A slave needs to be alert to his Master's needs and instructions at all times. And normally Phillip is and this is completely out of character for him. But that's not an excuse and he needs to be chastised for ignoring my instructions to him. This is his real crime. And normally, I would only cane him for such an offence." "Then what's so different this time, Uncle Kyle? "Well, if you look at the stripes on his ass you'll see he was caned only yesterday for his tardiness in carrying out his duties. That caning should have refocused his mind on giving me his complete attention. Obviously it didn't so I need to resort to more drastic measures to ensure he does so in future. The cane didn't work for him yesterday; perhaps the whip will tonight. I have to say Phillip hates the whip. Isn't that so slave?" "Yes Master! I'm so sorry, Master." The dejected slave's fear of the whip is evident in his response. Poor Phillip! He looks so forlorn. But in view of what Uncle Kyle is saying Phillip's punishment is justified. The slave has only himself to blame. "Jon, one day when you have your own slave, you'll realise the necessity to use punishment as a tool in your training of him. The slave needs to understand that the Master's word is law and any non-compliance with it is unpardonable. You have to raise a slave's consciousness to such a level that he expects to be punished whenever he disobeys or offends you. You know the old grandmothers' saying about sparing the rod and spoiling the child. Well that applies equally to a slave. You never spare the cane if its use is warranted." "Well then, Uncle Kyle. Who sets the rules for a slave's behaviour? Are they written down anywhere? Is there a rule book?" "Jon, there are no rules in a Master/slave relationship other than those the Master puts in place. Certainly there are some `universal laws' that are common to most Masters and their slaves and you'll be exposed to these in your future dealings with Phillip. But remember it is the Master who sets the rules to reflect his lifestyle, his desires and his needs. Other than complete obedience to those rules set by his Master, a slave doesn't have any input. Everything is done at the Master's instigation. Always remember that, Jon in your future dealing with slaves." "I will! Thank you Uncle Kyle." "There's one other very important point your need to know Jon. Always be fair in your treatment of a slave. Never abuse him needlessly. We black Masters have an enviable reputation to uphold. Our white slaves see us as stern in our expectations but fair in our treatment of them and they respond positively to that and it gives them a feeling of stability. Never punish a slave capriciously; to do so borders on the sadistic and will work against you. It will only confuse the slave and eventually, he'll grow to hate you and this will sour your loving relationship with him. Only ever use punishment as a means of correcting bad or unacceptable behaviour. If you do this the slave will come to realise you're acting in his best interests. And really a slave knows when he's misbehaved and he'll fully expect to be punished for his misdemeanours. And never disappoint a slave by not punishing him or he'll think poorly of you as his Master." "WOW! Uncle Kyle, there's so much to learn and remember. I don't know that I ever will." "Of course you will Jon. Given time and experience I know you'll make an excellent Master for some lucky slave. Just think, somewhere in the city there's a white boy waiting for you to enslave him. Jon if you do go down this path just use your common sense. Really that's all it takes to have a relationship similar to one that I share with Phillip." "OK, uncle! I see that you are very happy. But what about Phillip - is he happy too?" "Why don't you ask him for yourself?" "Are you happy, Phil......, boy?" I correct my question. I'm surprised! It seems so natural for me to address Phillip not by name but simply as `boy'. I find this so empowering and I know this will now be my favourite form of address to my uncle's slave. Phillip looks to his Master for guidance and my uncle gives him permission to answer my question. "You may answer Sir Jon, slave!" "Sir Jon, thank you for asking about my happiness. And I couldn't be happier. My life revolves around my Master. He is at the very centre of my life and my true happiness comes from serving him as his slave. My real life began for me the day I became Master's slave. Sir Jon, I love my Master with every fibre of my being." Phillip's answer rings true. There is sincerity in his voice as he answers my question. He really does love his Master and he is genuinely happy and I need only to look into his face to see this is so. I'm touched by his devotion and loyalty to Uncle Kyle and I wonder if I'll ever have such a slave of my own. I would count myself fortunate to own a slave such as Phillip. "Tell me boy? Do you ever feel shamed or humiliated?' "Forgive me, Sir Jon! I'm not sure what you mean by that? I'm sorry." "Well what are your feelings when I call you boy? Or your Master calls you slave." "Sir Jon. I'm a slave. I'm not supposed to have feelings on these things." I feel the slave is being evasive and not really answering my questions. Obviously Uncle Kyle feels this too. He speaks abruptly to Phillip. "Sir Jon asked you a question. Answer him!" Phillip has the good grace to blush as he blurts out his apology. "I'm so sorry, Sir Jon. Normally I don't feel anything when I'm called `boy' by my Superiors. Once it was a problem for me and I used to show my resentment. But Master trained me out of my bad habit of doing so. Sometimes even now there are odd occasions when my `white pride' shows through but Master always knows when this happens and, quite rightly, he corrects me. But I'm always honoured when Master calls me `slave'. I'm proud to be his slave and he pays me a compliment by calling me that especially in the company of other Black Superiors. It's a public acknowledgement that he owns me and that I belong to him. I am my Master's proud slave, Sir Jon." I note Phillip's candour about his pride in belonging to my uncle. And his comment about `white pride' intrigues me. Years ago, when I thought only of Phillip as Uncle Kyle's manservant, I was contemptuous of his apparent `lack of self-respect'. Then, it had seemed so demeaning to me that any proud man would engage in such menial work. Tonight, I can't help but contrast my perceived notion of that absence of pride in one whom I'd thought of as a paid servant to the retention of some white pride by an owned slave. To my mind these two attitudes are diametrical opposites and they interest me. I want to pursue this further but other things intervene to cut short my conversation with Phillip. Perhaps I will continue this conversation at some later time. We have finished eating our main course and Phillip hurries to clear away the plates and cutlery prior to serving us with desserts. I watch as Phillip walks towards the kitchen carrying the plates with a well-balanced ease. My gaze is centred on the curves of his shapely ass. As he walks the undulations of his buttocks emphasise the red stripes of yesterday's caning. And as I look at the rippling muscles in his back I reflect it too will soon wear the marks of his Master's displeasure. "Uncle Kyle, when does Phillip eat? And what does he eat?" "Phillip always eats after I've finished dining. He's required to stand at my side whilst I eat and once I've finished, and he has cleared away, he retires to the kitchen where I allow him time to eat - but he must be quick about it. I don't want him wasting time. What does my slave eat? Why he eats the leftovers from the meal of course." "So he never eats with you in the dining-room?" "No, Phillip never eats with me when we are alone. His place is standing at the kitchen bench and eating there. Of course, there are some exceptions when we have visits from family or friends who aren't aware of our living arrangements." "Like when dad and I visited before today, Uncle Kyle?" "Yes, Jon!" Our conversation is temporarily interrupted by Phillip's return. I wait as he moves from my uncle to my father and then to me placing our desserts on the table before us. Then he resumes his position at Uncle Kyle's side. I have noticed there is a pattern in the way Phillip serves me. He places a full plate before me from my left side and removes the empty one from my right. It appears very controlled and it is a reflection of my uncle's refined, good taste. "So Phillip has to stand to eat his meals? Why?" "Well Jon, a slave doesn't have time to sit if he's gainfully employed. Idleness in a slave in an undesirable trait; it encourages laziness. So in answer to your question - Phillip eats his meals on his feet and he eats them quickly." "Well then does Phillip ever get to sit down, Uncle Kyle?" "I only him allow to sit very rarely, Jon. And then he sits or kneels on the floor at my feet." "Why on the floor?" "It's proper for him to do so, Jon. A slave's place is at his Master's feet. Anyway, I don't want him sitting on my expensive furniture and soiling it with his perspiration and body oils. And being naked all the time, I don't want him shedding hair all over the place. That's one reason why I keep him smooth and of course his slave's smoothness is ascetically pleasing to my eye." So does Phillip ever get to relax? Do you allow him to watch TV, read newspapers or a book?" "Phillip doesn't have time for such things, Jon. Why, reading would cut into his time; time which is better employed in serving me. But he does sometimes join me as I watch TV. But even when he relaxes he still serves me as a slave." "How does he serve you, Uncle Kyle?" "Well Jon," my uncle laughs, "I have him kneel on all fours and he serves either as my foot-stool or as an occasional table. His back is broad and it's amazing how much I can place on it. The slave must learn to remain perfectly still to ensure there are no unfortunate accidents liked spilled drinks. Of course, it takes a lot of practice for a slave before he becomes a `stable table'. It seemed to take forever before Phillip managed to achieve his stability and there were many occasions when he had a sore ass as encouragement to do better. Now he can maintain his position `rock solid' without any shaking. And at other times he'll lay full length on his back and I use him as a footrest. The rise and fall of his chest and belly have a soothing effect on my tired feet. It's almost like a massage." I can't believe this! Before today, and never in my wildest imagination, could I contemplate that one man could use another one so humiliatingly. But then I remind myself that Phillip isn't a man in the true sense of the word; he is only a slave. I picture Phillip on all fours with my uncle's feet placed across his back or alternatively with a can of beer or a plate of nibbles resting upon it. I suppose Phillip must remain motionless throughout and I marvel at his endurance and patience. Does he feel shame as he serves his Master in such a degrading manner? All this is too much for my now overworked cock. It throbs with such intensity and strains at the constriction of my clothing. Its screams for relief; a relief I want so much to give it - but can't. This is just too much. After all there is just so much that flesh and blood can bear and I'm almost at the point of no return. I will my wayward cock to behave but it disobeys me. I feel the first minor spurts and embarrassingly, I know I'm leaking. Phillip steps forward to top up Uncle Kyle's wine glass. As he does so my uncle places his hand on his slave's ass and `kneads' it - tenderly and lovingly. Phillip gives a sigh of pleasure and wriggles his ass in appreciation of his Master's attention to it. Or is it an invitation to his Master to go further? Phillip's behaviour is skittish and I wonder do all slaves behave like this. Do slaves usually exhibit such sluttish tendencies in front of their Masters? Phillip's invitation doesn't go unrewarded. I am envious of my uncle as I watch him play with Phillip's ass. I want so much to do the same. I'm not sure if I should be watching or turning away. But I continue to watch my uncle's dinnertime interlude with his slave. Then Uncle Kyle gives Phillip's ass a series playful slaps - the sounds of which echo erotically - and tells him to attend to my father and me. My uncle is aware of my interest and comments. "You know Jon, I find Phillip's ass irresistible and there are times when I can't keep my hands off of it. It is after all one of his better features and is a source of much pleasure to me. Of course, this is as a slave's ass should be. As no doubt you'll find out for yourself when you have your own slave." I can hardly wait! That day won't come quick enough for me. My uncle's words strike a chord with me and I promise myself that I will possess my own white slave at the earliest opportunity. Phillip is at my side and he leans forward to top up my wine glass. His ass is just inches from me - tempting me to reach out and touch it. The urge to do so is strong but I'm unsure of the protocols of touching another man's slave without his permission. So I resist the temptation but those delicious, curvaceous buttocks continue to taunt me. Fortunately my uncle resumes his conversation about Phillip. "Tell me Jon, did you watch the recent series of `Spartacus: Blood and Sand' on TV?" "Yes I did Uncle Kyle. It was a great series and I can hardly wait for the second season to begin. Did you watch it?" "Yes, both Phillip and I watched it. It was one show that I allowed Phillip to watch in its entity. Usually, Phillip TV `duties' don't allow him to see what's on the screen. When he's on his hands and knees he can hear what's going on but he can't always watch. I like to have Phillip placed so that his balls and hole are fully exposed to my view; they make a great diversion during the commercial breaks. But because of the subject matter in Spartacus I allowed Phillip to watch each episode in its entirety." Did you enjoy the show Uncle Kyle?" "Yes I did Jon. But Phillip enjoyed it more I think. He told me he identified with the theme of white gladiator slaves being controlled by the black Doctore. He was Phillip's favourite character and he loved the way the Doctore used his whip to gain the attention of the white slaves. As a white slave to a black Master, Phillip was able to identify with that show." The mind of a slave puzzles me. I realise my `newness' to the concept of voluntary slavery shows in my naivety but its Uncle Kyle's comment that Phillip `loved the way the Doctore used his whip' that puzzles me. How could anyone love the threat of the Doctore's whip? In time I will become better acquainted with the way slaves think. I'll learn they do crave humiliation, shame and pain but at the same time fear them. I will learn that slaves anticipate these things in equal measures of needing and trepidation. I will come to understand that some slaves are `turned on' by this longing for humiliation and pain and yet these also strike fear into them. One day, I'll understand these can lie at the very heart of a slave's consciousness. "Jon, I notice you have nearly finished your dessert. Would you like some ice-cream to finish off?" Obviously, my uncle hasn't forgotten my fondness for ice-cream. "Yes please, uncle." Uncle Kyle sends Phillip to the kitchen to fetch me my ice-cream. He hurries off and quickly returns - and I think how the threat of the whip has `smartened' him up - with a very large serve of my favourite flavoured ice-creams in a crystal dish. I recall how when I was a boy, Phillip had always given me generous serves of ice-cream and it would appear nothing has changed since then. He leans forward and places the dish on the table before me and once more his ass is in close proximity to me. I really do have to fight the temptation to reach out and touch it. For some reason, I think back to that occasion many years ago when I'd asked Phillip if he liked ice-cream as much as I did. I remember his timid `yes' in reply and I recall my uncle's statement that `Phillip doesn't eat ice-cream'. Idiotically, I wonder if Phillip has ever tasted ice-cream in the intervening years. As I look at him, I decide he hasn't. My uncle forbids it and who can blame him. As I look at Phillip's body, I now understand my uncle's restrictions on what his slave eats. Phillip's body is a thing of beauty and his musculature is clearly delineated and not marred by any unsightly flabbiness. To spoil its perfection would be sacrilege. And so I make a mental note to strictly regulate the diet of my future slave. During my previous visits, I'd always understood that Phillip had his own bedroom. It's wasn't something I'd ever given much thought to and so, in those days, where Phillip, the manservant slept was unimportant to me. But now my curiosity has been awakened. Where does Phillip, the slave sleep? And so I ask my uncle about their sleeping arrangements. "Uncle Kyle, where does Phillip sleep? Does he have a room of his own?" "I was wondering when you'd get around to asking me that". My uncle appears amused by my question. "Phillip sleeps in my room on the floor alongside my bed." "He sleeps on the floor? Why?" "Because that's his proper place. I don't want him in my bed disturbing my sleep. The only time Phillip is in my bed is when I use him for sex and as soon as I've finished with him he's out of my bed and back onto the floor." "So, he has a mattress on the floor that he sleeps on?" "No he doesn't have any bedding other than a pillow for his head. He sleeps on the floor without a mattress or blankets. However in winter, I relent a little and allow him to sleep closer to the fireplace and I do give him a blanket for warmth. I don't want him catching a cold. But for the rest of the year he sleeps on the floor without a blanket." "Isn't that rather harsh?" "Jon, a slave's life is harsh. The very fact that he is a slave makes it so. And remember that Phillip is a voluntary slave; he opted to live his life as my slave. The day he became my slave he renounced his freedom and gave me full sovereignty over him. That was his conscious choice and it wasn't a `spur of the moment' decision on his part. In fact, it took twelve months for him to make it. I didn't hurry him or bully him into it. I knew very early on I wanted Phillip to be my slave but I allowed him to take his time and think seriously about committing to the lifestyle. I talked at length with him about what I'd expect from him as my slave and I exposed him to the lifestyles of friends who lived their lives as Masters and slaves. Eventually, he made his choice and became my slave. His decision to do so made me very happy. And I know he doesn't regret his decision, either. Remember, he told you earlier, he is happy in serving me. Phillip fully expects his life to be hard. Indeed he'd be disappointed if wasn't so. He has a slave's mentality." "So Phillip is only ever in your bed for sex, Uncle Kyle? Does that happen often?" "Frequently, Jon!" My uncle laughs at my question, "It shouldn't surprise you, Jon, but your uncle loves his sex and Phillip more than meets my expectations. But sex between a Master and his slave is always at the Master's instigation and never at the slave's. The Master's need is paramount and the slave's is unimportant." "Does that mean that Phillip has to wait on you for sex? He doesn't get to suggest it's something he wants?" "No, Jon! Sex from the slave's point of view may be an expectation but that's all it should be. Sex for a slave isn't a right and the slave should only ever see it as a privilege given to him by his Master. A slave's sexual gratification is the reward he gains from meeting and satisfying his Master's needs. It's a spin off so to speak". "It must be very frustrating for the slave having to wait on his Master for sex? I suppose slaves compensate by jerking off a lot?" "Jon! A master never allows his slave to masturbate. In fact, you never allow a slave to touch his cock. A slave's cock belongs to his Master and it's strictly `hands off'. You need to train a slave hard for this. After all, the urge for a slave to touch himself is a strong one and his Master has to be forever vigilant. It took me ages to break Phillip of the habit and at one stage in his training his ass was perpetually striped." "Tell me Uncle Kyle, how did you train Phillip not to jerk off?" "Why simply by the frequent use of the cane on his ass and by placing his cock in a restraint. I locked his cock away in a cock cage for extended periods of time. Phillip hated that and still does. Occasionally, I place his cock back into restraint just to remind him of how it feels. It took a long time for me to train Phillip and even after ten years I know he still has urges but he'd never touch his cock without permission. Jon, whenever you do have a slave of your own, you'll need to learn to control him through his cock. And it can be a lot of fun doing this." "Do you ever allow him to touch himself?" "Usually, no I don't. A slave's body belongs to his Master and the Master gets to call the `shots' - excuse my pun. However, I sometimes allow it as a reward. We do have a little game we play together called edging. I have Phillip kneel before me with this knees spread wide and order him to stroke his cock to erection. I control the speed and frequency of strokes and there are lots of stops and starts. I bring him to the brink and then order him to stop and once he's settled down I give the order to start again. The exercise of this game is to demonstrate my complete control over his cock and to test his endurance and staying power." "WOW!" My exclamation of amazement is all I can manage. The thought of controlling a slave through his cock is one that appeals to me and it reinforces my desire to have my very own slave one day. It goes without saying my own cock is very much in need of `control' at the thought of this. I need to know more. "Uncle Kyle, what do you mean by endurance and staying power?" "The object is to test Phillip's endurance and to see how long he can last without ejaculating. Of course, he's not supposed to `shoot' until I allow it and should he do so spontaneously then he's caned for his lack of control. The staying power has to do with how long we can play our little game. This can vary between one and a half to two hours. This wasn't always the case. In the early days, his staying power was pathetic and it took much training on my part to get him to the level he's at currently." "At the end of the game do you allow him to jerk off?" "On most occasions I do allow it. But there are those times when I forbid it. I do this sometimes to show my displeasure with him but I mostly use it as an example of my control over him. It doesn't hurt him to be left `hanging' to remind him of this. But usually I reward him for his efforts. The look of pleasure on his face as he cums is ample reward for my generosity. He positively beams with happiness. He catches his cum in his free hand and then swallows it. Well actually it isn't his cum - it's mine - and I don't allow it to go to waste. And he has to clean up any spillages on the floor with his tongue." "Uncle Kyle, I'm getting the impression that Phillip's sex life is totally in your hands. Am I right in thinking this and is that how it should be with a Master and slave?" "Yes, Jon, a slave's sexuality -or the control of it - is a powerful tool in the hands of a wise Master. It can be used to train, reward and discipline a slave. Remember, most slaves are highly sexed individuals and their sexual appetites are insatiable. It seems to be an inherent quality they possess. You need to curb that and use it to your advantage. Their sexuality is a gift that a Master can both enjoy and exploit." "Is Phillip insatiable, Uncle Kyle?" "Is he ever? He just can't get enough sex and I must regulate it to my needs. Some nights I hear him sighing and fidgeting on the floor when he should be asleep. I know what disturbs him and what he wants. Some nights I take pity on him and order him up onto my bed. And he's not beyond giving me less than subtle hints that he wants sex." "How does he do that? What sort of hints does he give you, Uncle Kyle?" "Oh, you know! Things like kissing me my feet, sucking my toes or licking between them. And more blatantly he'll lick my balls or take my cock into his mouth and give me a blow job. I've got to say, my slave is very talented when it comes to dropping little hints to me." "Does it work? Does Phillip get what he wants, Uncle Kyle?" "Mostly, Jon. I'm a bit of a softie when it comes to Phillip. Jon, even though Phillip is my slave he is also my partner and my lover and I love him very much. I told you earlier that a Master/slave relationship is complementary and we each have different needs. Phillip and I know this and we both work hard to keep one another happy. Phillip has given himself as a slave to me unconditionally and that places a responsibility on me to make sure his life is as happy and as fulfilled as my own. I work very hard as Phillip's Master to meet his needs. The partnership between a Master and his slave is an uneven one but nevertheless it is a true partnership built on mutual love." "Uncle Kyle, I see you really love Phillip, don't you?" "Yes Jon, I love him very much. He is the slave I've chosen to spend the rest my life with. When the time comes for you to own your own slave - choose carefully and choose a slave that you love. And never disregard him. Certainly always remember you are the Master and treat him as the slave he is -after all he'll expect that from you and he'll love you with a devotion that is quite touching. Do that and you'll be more than amply rewarded and you will enjoy your life as a black Master to a white slave." My uncle's words are touching. Two things I've learned today affect me deeply. These are the great love and devotion that Phillip, the slave gives to his Master, my Uncle Kyle. And the second is that my uncle returns this love in equal measure together with a sense of responsibility and a duty of care for his faithful slave. Their partnership is unorthodox but not all that unusual as I will discover for myself when I travel down the pathway that will one day see me in possession of my own white slave. I will remember all that Uncle Kyle has told me today as I embrace this unique lifestyle. Today has opened my eyes to new things and it points in the direction my life will now take. Like my Uncle Kyle I will be a black Master and in the years ahead I will put into practise all he has told me. This perhaps is his true present to me on my eighteenth birthday and I'm grateful to him for revealing the truth about Phillip to me. Poor Phillip! As we'd talked so earnestly, I'd forgotten about him. However, with the inherent nature of the true slave, he'd gone about his duties so quietly and efficiently that I'd not noticed him. During our conversation he'd removed our remaining dishes to the kitchen and once the table was cleared, he set about serving us with coffee. It is only the delicious aroma of freshly brewed coffee that draws my attention back to him. I watch as he moves around the table with an easy, silent grace firstly from my Uncle Kyle to my father and finally to me carefully pouring coffee from a percolator. He now stands mute in the modified display position at my uncle's side but remains ever attentive to our needs. From time to time, and without prompting, he steps forward to refill our cups when he deems it necessary. As he does so he is ignored by us. The old maxim that `children should be seen but not heard' is one that applies equally to slaves. The revelation that Phillip is my uncle's slave emboldens me to take liberties with him. I am of a mind to test my `authority' over him and so I order him to. "Boy! Fetch me another serve of ice-cream to eat with my coffee." As Phillip hastens to obey me I'm filled with a new sense of empowerment. Here is this naked, `white boy' slave - twice my age at the very least - hurrying to do my bidding. His acquiescence to my instructions makes my cock even harder - if that is possible. I look after Phillip as he walks towards the kitchen. Once more my eyes are riveted on his striped ass and I think about his impending whipping. Is it permissible for me to ask my Uncle Kyle if I can stay to witness his punishment? I would like that. The mechanics of whipping a slave intrigue me. How is it done? Will Phillip be suspended by his wrists as one sees in the movies and how many strokes will he receive before my uncle's displeasure is assuaged? Is the whip a single or multi strand one? Will Phillip beg for leniency and will my uncle grant it? Will the slave cry out under the lash? And what happens after he is released? Does he crawl like a whipped dog to his Master's feet to beg forgiveness? I want desperately to be a witness to Phillip's punishment. I call out after him. "Boy! Make that a double serve of ice-cream." My uncle might deny his slave ice-cream but no such restrictions apply to me. I am a black superior with the freedom to choose and make decisions. Phillip on the other hand is only a white slave powerless to do so and obliged to give unquestioning obedience to his Master's orders. Phillip returns and leans forward to place my ice-cream before me. His ass is provocatively poised for my attention and cheekily, I reach out and emulate my uncle's earlier attention to it. As I knead the two fleshy mounds of his buttocks, Phillip sighs softly and wriggles contentedly. Then guiltily, I look to my uncle. Am I being forward? Am I taking liberties with his property? But Uncle Kyle smiles indulgently at me -he could never deny me anything - and nods his head approvingly. I have his permission to continue. Emboldened by my uncle's generosity, I reach out and fondle his slave's ass. The ice-cream is forgotten as my finger explores the deep, dividing canyon of Phillip's ass and probes even deeper for the most private and intimate part of his body; the one that only my uncle is entitled to know. But it's all proving too much for me. My poor, tortured cock can take very little more of this provocation and I must desist or risk the embarrassment of a very public ejaculation. I deliver two, stinging slaps to the slave's bare ass as a means of dismissing him. As the sounds of my slaps ring out loudly, Phillip sighs deeply. I wonder is it a sigh of pleasure or is it one of disappointment? Then unexpectedly he speaks to his Master. "May I have your permission to speak Master?" "What is it you want to say, slave?" "Master, I want to thank Sir Jon for his kindness to me. Master, do I have your permission to do so?" "From where I was watching," my uncle laughs, "I think Sir Jon will be rendering many such kindnesses to you. But it is appropriate for you to thank him. Yes, you have my permission. Speak!" Phillip smiles happily at me and speaks "Thank you Sir Jon. Earlier today you examined me and now you have fingered me. In doing those things you paid my Master a compliment. I am proud to be his slave and to bring credit to him. Sir Jon today is your eighteenth birthday and I wish you happiness in the years ahead. I hope one day to see you as a Black Master with your own white slave and to that end, I will be happy to serve you in any manner my Master allows, Sir Jon." I'm touched by the sincerity of Phillip's words and I'm moved to thank him. Then I remember Uncle Kyle's earlier, gentle rebuke that you don't thank a slave for doing what is expected of him. So I ignore Phillip and accept his birthday wishes as those due from a white slave to a black superior. My uncle however is obviously pleased with Phillip and pays him the rare compliment of acknowledging his words. But today is unusual - it is my eighteenth birthday - and because of it, Uncle Kyle generously allows his slave some latitude. "Well spoken, slave! Good boy!" My ice-cream has melted. Phillip steps forward to remove the dish from the table and asks. "Sir Jon! Will I fetch you a fresh serve of ice-cream?" "Yes! And be quick about it, boy." I answer dismissively. From my perspective, I have seen many things change today. However, some things never change. As we wait for Phillip's return with my ice cream, my father and uncle begin a discussion on their favourite topic of debate -"Black Rule". They begin by discussing Phillip's upcoming session with the whip. My father asks. "How many strokes are you planning on giving him, Kyle?" "He'll receive the maximum number - ten. I never exceed that number. Lachlan, you and Jon will stay to witness it won't you? After all you are family and I'm sure Jon will benefit from the experience. " My heart skips a beat and I catch my breath. I am to witness Phillip's whipping. To be continued...........

CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES A Sequel to `A Reversal of Fortune' Chapter 10: "Welcomed into the Household" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) Read my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures." Chapter 10: "Welcomed into the Household" Suddenly, standing here fastened to Norge, everything takes on a surreal quality. So much has happened to me this afternoon that my mind still isn't able to take it all in. I am lost in a blur of bewilderment and disbelief; a fog of confusion and fear. Everything has been taken from me- EVERYTHING! My fortune, my freedom, my name and I now stand as a naked slave in the courtyard of the home that was mine just six hours ago; the home that now belongs to my Master, Guy Maratier. Fearfully, I watch the activity going on around me. Grouped in front of me are the fifteen household slaves who had so recently belonged to me and whose ranks I have now joined. No doubt they too are confused and bewildered by this sudden turn of events. Their old master now stands before them as a naked slave and like them he wears the collar and brand of their servitude. And probably they wait in fearful anticipation of our new Master's attitude towards them; no doubt wondering in what way their lives are about to change? They haven't been dismissed and shuffle uncomfortably as Cato orders four of them to bring out the whipping bench from within the stables. Nervously, they hurry to do his bidding. The fifteen slaves have been witnesses to these events before. Indeed, at my instigation, all of them have been unwilling participants in the grim ritual about to be played out before them. Acting on Cato's suggestion, my Master has commanded him to initiate me into the household. It has been a long held Barrois tradition that a newly purchased slave receives ten strokes of the cane immediately upon his arrival back from the slave-market. This is done to establish his new master's authority over the unfortunate slave and to serve as a practical warning of the punishment given for any infraction of the rules governing his behaviour. It is a practice I'd enthusiastically and thoughtlessly continued after my grandfather's death and it is ironic that I'm now to fall a victim to my own cruelty. Mine however is to be a special "welcome". Instead of the usual ten strokes, my Master has doubled that number and I'm to receive twenty strokes with the new and improved WHIPPISTIK that I had recently issued to Cato for use on my slaves. I've already felt its cruel sting as I was driven from the court-room to the Assessor's Office only a few short hours ago. My balls still ache with the wasplike pain it caused me and I remember my futile attempt to crawl away from the WHIPPISTIK as the slave-handlers drove me on my hands and knees down the long passage. Now I'm to feel its fiery fury once more as Cato applies this new cane to my body. I know what to expect from Cato. He's never held back when caning a slave and each stroke is delivered with a powerful sweep of his muscular, whipping arm. How many times have I listened to the sibilant swish of his cane travelling through the resistant air? How many times have I heard the loud thwack as it lands on its victim's exposed body? And how many times have I closed my ears and heart to the slave's cries of pain and pleas for leniency? They are far too many for me to recall. Cato takes his time in caning a slave. He never hurries the punishment. I recall him telling me once, that a caning should be a learning experience for a slave and that he needs to feel his punishment to better understand it. Therefore, Cato administers each caning or paddling -but paddling is another story-very slowly and methodically. Between each stroke, Cato pauses long enough for the slave to savour his pain and to vocalise his suffering and he very deliberately avoids the cane striking the same spot twice. This is what now confronts me and I'm terrified. I wonder about my Master's scarcely concealed hatred of me and this, no doubt, is the reason why he's decided to double the number of cane strokes I'm to receive. During the course of the afternoon's events, it became clear to me that he carries a great hatred for the Barrois name. With some justification, he blames them for the poverty of his former life and for the suffering of his grandmother, Charlotte Maratier. I'm not to know that his hatred of the Barrois family was nurtured by Charlotte's unrelenting bitterness directed at her brother-my late grandfather-and me. But as the last to bear the Barrois name, all that pent-up hatred and bitterness is now centred on me. I have been brought undone by them and I'm to pay a high price in the Maratier's desire for revenge. I sense Guy Maratier's intention to make me live every moment of my slavery and instinctively I know I can't expect any mercy or forgiveness from either him or his grandmother. My Master has walked to the entrance of the court-yard to farewell the two court officials sent by Judge Matthews to ensure the smooth transition of the ownership of my former property into his possession, He has left me in the presence of my former lawyer, Simon Barrow, who has elected to stay and watch my imminent introductory to slavery caning. Simon stands before me and attempts to goad me into a re-action with his insults and taunts. Perhaps he hopes I will respond which of course as slave I'm not allowed to do; any retort from me would see an automatic increase in the number of strokes I'm to receive. Not wishing to add to my impending caning, I remain silent with my head bowed. Yet the bitterness my enforced "humility and acceptance" of his torment seethes within me and I feel the bile rise in my throat. I'm genuinely surprised at his animosity towards me; it shows in his eyes and in his barely concealed pleasure at seeing me as a slave. My dealings with him had always been cordial-or so I thought-and I'd never been discourteous to him. It's true our relationship had been conducted on a purely professional basis and I never looked on him as a friend but is that sufficient grounds for his now vehement satisfaction at my plight. I don't understand why this is so and yet; so many times today I have been exposed to similar feelings of hostility. This makes me wonder about myself. In my former life, I'd received the respect and courtesy that my Barrois birth right demanded. It's true that I'd not cultivated many friends among the city's elite and I'd remained aloof from the business intrigues of those I was forced to deal with. His was done by design. It was the policy of my grandfather and I'd simply followed in his footsteps. But I was always courteous and scrupulously honest in all my dealings. To my knowledge I'd never knowingly hurt anyone nor cheated them and as far as I knew I hadn't any enemies. But this afternoon, I have seen so much satisfaction expressed at my downfall and felt so much hostility that I'm forced to ask myself-WHY? It would appear that I'm universally hated for reasons unknown to me. Added to the trauma of now finding myself a slave, I'm shattered by this. I wonder what I have done to deserve all that is happening to me. Norge stands quietly alongside of me watching as the whipping bench is carried out from the stables. Is he reliving the occasion when he was "welcomed' into my household? Does he relive the moments and the pain of his caning? Will he take satisfaction in seeing me on the receiving end? I ask myself-can I blame him if he does. As I look at Norge and the other slaves, I'm deeply affected by my past treatment of them. My indifference to their pain and suffering shames me and once more my eyes fill with tears of guilt. Norge hears my gentle crying and puzzled by this, he looks at me. For the second time this afternoon, I sob out my heartfelt apology to him. I hear myself saying, "I'm sorry, Norge. I'm so sorry." His eyes widen in surprise and he looks searchingly into my face. Perhaps, just perhaps, he recognises my genuine remorse. Deep within me I know my apology is useless. It changes nothing and it doesn't undo the past. Norge is still a slave and will remain so for the remainder of his days. Of course, I'm not to blame for the fact that he is a slave. The courts made him so. But I did take advantage of that and bought him for my own selfish purposes. I had thoughtlessly humiliated him by my public inspection and purchase of him at the sale-yards, my very public use of him as naked pony and I had gone on to shame him by using him for my own sexual gratification without regard to his own inclinations. Finally, I had degraded his manhood by skinning him. And indeed I'd never considered these things. He was a slave-my slave-and I was his master and my needs were paramount. Now as a new slave, I recognise my thoughtless cruelty and lack of compassion not only for Norge but for all my former slaves. My apology to Norge is heartfelt but I know I'm not entitled to his forgiveness. Nor do I expect it. I continue to ignore Simon Barrow's taunts and turn my thoughts to my impending caning. Acting under Cato's direction, the four slaves have placed the whipping bench in the centre of the courtyard and I watch as he carefully checks and positions the leather straps that he'll use to fasten me in place. In the past the caning bench has never concerned me overly; now it takes on the appearance of a grim instrument of torture. It is made all the more fearsome by my knowledge that I'm to be fastened to it and caned. In appearance it resembles a workman's bench and stands at waist high. Its operation is simple. The victim is made to stand at one end which is heavily padded to protect his genitals when he is bent double and then his ankles are fastened to the upright legs. Once his ankles are secured, he is made to bend at the waist and rest his upper body, face down on the bench top. Then his arms are stretched out to their full length before him and fastened by leather straps. Effectively, with his body stretched taut and his buttocks at the correct height and angle, the slave is now ready for chastisement. The cane can now be applied to his shoulders, lower back, arse or the back of his thighs; the choice for this rests with his master. Being made of solid timber, there isn't any give and the slave feels the full force of the blow delivered to his body. This particular horse has been in service from long before I was born and it has seen much service. Its timber top has been worn smooth by the friction of countless, naked bodies and polished to a dark patina by the fear induced sweat of its many victims. Fearfully, I look on as Cato limbers up by swinging his cane through the air. He always does this before a caning; as he once told me, "to loosen up his whipping arm". As he swipes it through the air, I'm alarmed by the noise this new cane makes; it is so unlike the normal cane which makes a soft hissing sound as it travels through the air. By comparison, the new WHIPPISTIK has been designed to make a loud, whining noise as it moves downwards to its victim's body. The manufacturers of the WHIPPISTIK use this noise as a feature in the advertising and selling of their product. In their words "the high-pitched whine of the `WHIPPISTIK' adds an extra sensory dimension to the chastisement of a slave and helps focus his mind on his punishment". I have heard this noise before but I had never concerned myself with the effect it has upon the slave undergoing a caning. Now it terrifies me. With my caning only minutes away, I can well imagine how a slave feels as he listens to the frightening sound of the cane descending to land on his body. With each swipe of Cato's arm, I cringe in trepidation. Simon Barrow smilingly notes my distress and taunts me, "Just think, boy! You're about to get your first caning as a slave. I hope it hurts like hell and I hope it's the first of many." The sound of the cane attracts my Master's attention. He takes his leave of the court officials and hurries over to where Cato is practising his technique. Simon now loses interest in me and joins them. I watch as Cato explains the features of the cane to his new Master and Simon. Both show a keen interest in it and after a lesson in its use; they take turns in swishing it through the air. Cato's limbering up has unsettled the watching household slaves who nervously shuffle their feet as they wait. They know what is to happen. After all they have all been in the same position as I now find myself. As their former Master, I know that the caning of a fellow slave unsettles them. Obviously, they are happy that it is another slave -and not them - who is being caned but contrary to public perceptions, slaves are capable of emotions and do feel one another's suffering. I've always felt forcing slaves to witness a fellow slave's chastisement is good for them. It has a salutatory effect upon them and in the days immediately following a caning, their behaviour is exemplary; they become diligent, conscientious courteous and eager to please. From a master's perspective, I'd always felt this was good for my slaves and contributed enormously to the peace and harmony of my household. But now my views have changed; I'm the slave who is to serve as an example to them and whose caning will ensure their continuing good behaviour. My state of mind is fragile to say the least. The cataclysmic events of the afternoon have been devastating and I have this awful sense of vulnerability. For the first time in my life I have no-one or anything to cling to; everything has been stripped away from me and I have an overpowering sense of loneliness. Quite obviously, I'm now reviled by all free men and despised by my new slave brethren. Through my tears of self-pity, I wonder if it will always be like this. Then unexpectedly, I see Norge looking at me; what is that look I see in his eyes? Is it pity? Perhaps in recalling his own enslavement, he does feel some small measure of sympathy for me. Then he smiles and for the second time today, I draw comfort from a fellow slave; I fondly recall the gentle touch of the assessor's slave as he helped me up onto the scales. My gratitude for Norge's unexpected gesture is overwhelming. Am I entitled to read into it his forgiveness for the wrongs I have done him? Suddenly my master/slave fondness for Norge begins to take on a new dimension. Where it will take me is unclear. I just know that now I see Norge through very different eyes to those of the former Lucien Barrois. I draw strength from Norge's smile and I feel I can confront whatever awaits me. But as my Master, accompanied by Simon Barrow and Cato walk toward me I begin to quake with fear for I know they have come to take me to the whipping bench. I try not to show my fear and stand erect with my head bowed. Simon is the first to speak. "Well Guy! It looks as though you've scored yourself a prime slave with Rafe. Do you mind if I inspect him?" "No, not at all Simon. Be my guest." Again I detect the eagerness in my Master's answer. He appears happy to "show me off" to whoever asks. I surmise this is yet another way to further humiliate me. I stand quietly as my former lawyer slowly moves his hands down over my chest and cruelly pinches my nipples. "He's a bit hairy," Simon comments as he ruffles my chest hair, "which suits him. Personally I like a slave with a bit of hair on his body. Are you going to keep it that way or shave him, Guy?" "He'll keep his body hair for the time being but eventually he's to lose it. I'm taking him out to La Fort for six months and I not sure whether the field slaves there are smooth or natural. So I'll wait and see what happens when we get there. But personally I think slaves look better with smooth bodies and when he returns from his stint at La Fort, he'll be kept smooth like all my other house slaves. That is the tradition isn't it, Cato? That all the house slaves are kept smooth?" "Yes, Master. Both my former Masters insisted their slaves have smooth bodies and as you can see all your household slaves are kept that way. They shave their bodies daily. What do you want done with Rafe, Master?" "For now Cato, he's to have just a slave haircut. As soon as we are done with his caning, I want Rafe attended to. He's to lose those long curls and be sure you crop his hair close to the skull the same as the rest of the slaves. " "Very well, Master. I'll see to it myself." "Oh and Cato! I see all the other slaves wear cinches around their genitals. Make sure that Rafe is similarly dressed will you?" "Yes Master." Simon moves his hands down over my belly and takes my cock in his hands. However his attempts at bringing me to life are fruitless; I remain unmoved. My fear is greater than my desire. "That's disappointing. I can't seem to get his prick up." "I not too concerned about that, Simon." My master laughingly replies to Simon's complaint about me, "I guess if you were to about to be caned, you'd have a limp dick too. Actually he and the pony put on a very good show for my new neighbours a short while ago. I've got to say I was most impressed with both of them." Losing interest in my cock, Simon now examines me from behind; he slides his hands from the saddle of my shoulders down over my back to my arse where he pauses ostensibly to judge the firmness and strength of my buttocks. But his hands tell me this isn't the true reason for showing such interest in this part of my anatomy. I'm very much aware that his hands are fondling and caressing me. Instinctively, I know his interest in me is sexual. I'm surprised at this sudden revelation. Simon and I have associated with one another for several years-admittedly it was always on the basis of business-and nothing he'd ever said or done had indicated that he enjoyed sex with a male. The thought flashes through my mind that had I known or suspected this, my attitude towards him may have been different. Aged somewhere about thirty, he is an extremely handsome man with an impressive physique which he usually highlights by wearing tight-fitting jeans and shirts. Ironically, several times over the years, I'd found myself lustfully assessing his body and regrettably, I never did get to see him naked. I assumed he was heterosexual and I respected that. He obviously assumed the same about me. He kept his secret well as he wouldn't have wanted to reveal his true inclination to me for fear of any prejudice on my part and jeopardising our business arrangements. Now that I'm a slave, he need have no such worries and with my Master's permission, he is free to submit me to the most humiliating of inspections. "The slave's got a cute ass," he compliments my Master, "well-rounded, not overly large and quite hard." "You're the second to comment on it." My Master replies, "The old, retired major living next door described it as "meaty" whatever that means. I must confess I'm not an expert on the subject. And now Simon, if you've finished with your inspection of him, I think it's time the slave had his caning." Hearing my Master's words, my earlier resolve to stoically confront whatever happens to me crumples and I hear myself pleading with Guy Maratier. "Please Master. Please don't cane me. Master, I'll do whatever you want. I'll be good, Master." As I hear my plaintive pleas, I am sickened at my easy capitulation. I have gone from my self-assurance of just a few hours ago to the whining, begging slave that I now am. But I don't care. My fear of the cane outweighs my self-respect and I continue to beg as Cato unfastens me from the cart. "Please Master; you don't have to do this. I'll do whatever I'm told. PLEASE MASTER! PLEASE!" My pleas go unanswered. Nothing will save me from my Master's need for revenge or from Cato's strong arm and cane. But then how many times have I listened to a slave begging not to be punished and on every occasion I had closed my ears to his pleas for mercy. Why then should I expect to be spared? I resist Cato's attempts to lead me to the whipping bench. As he pulls me forward by the chain attached to my collar I pull back and we are engaged in a tug-of-war. But it is a battle that I must lose. Cato has the advantage over me; he is bigger, heavier and stronger and with my wrists still fastened to the back of my neck collar I am powerless to use my arms. All my efforts place a great strain on my neck muscles and I'm forced to yield. As Cato continues to tug at my neck chain I slowly give ground. But I continue to resist and in a final, desperate but futile action, I throw myself to the ground. Exasperated, Cato calls forward two, burly slaves from the watching group and orders them to haul me to the waiting bench. I am no match for them and with one on either side of me; I'm quickly dragged over to the bench and thrown face downwards on to its hard, unyielding surface. Cato wastes no time in attempting to tie me down. As the two slaves battle to hold my upper body down on the bench, I continue to struggle and lash out at Cato with my feet as he tries to pull my legs apart. The fight however is to prove uneven and I'm no match for Cato and the two slaves. NevertheIess I continue to kick out with my feet and I hear Cato's angry call for further assistance. "Ben, get over here and hold his leg steady." I feel my former body slave, Ben's hands on my left leg holding it steady as Cato tightly fastens the leather strap around my left ankle. With that leg strapped into place, it's very easy for Ben to hold my other leg still as Cato fastens the strap around its ankle. Now that my legs are immobilised and my torso held down by the two slaves, it's a simple matter for Cato to release my arms, one at a time, and have Ben hold them out full length in front of my head while he fastens the straps around my wrists. Cato spitefully pulls the wrist-straps tight and hisses into my ear. "You'll pay dearly for that boy. I was going to go easy on you but now you'll feel the full fury of my cane on your ass." These words are spoken to me by the man who just this morning had bowed his head to me and called me "Master". I'm to learn another bitter lesson; one that will stay with me through the long years of my slavery; that a slave's defiance is useless. A slave may protest if he's foolish enough to do so. But he can NEVER win. The upper hand always remains with the Master and his agents. As I former master I should have known this. But it wasn't defiance that made me struggle against Cato. It is the indescribable fear that churns my stomach and causes my heart to pound within my chest. Cato and his helpers stand back from the bench and wait for Guy Maratier's instructions. I'm now hogtied and ready for my caning. My upper body is stretched taut and my legs are splayed wide open. Futilely, I struggle in my restraints but my body movements are now reduced to the nervous twitching of my muscles as I await my punishment. In the cooling air of the early evening, I feel a sudden chill and realise I'm perspiring copiously. The bench top feels wet beneath my chest and belly and sweat trickles down the sides of my body to moisten and stain the bench's surface; I'm adding my essence to that of all the other slaves who have lain and suffered here. I'm now displaying the signs of my panic as my heart beats wildly within me and me my lungs feel as though they are about to burst. There is a roaring in my ears and I'm having difficulty in breathing; desperately I gulp air though my widely opened mouth as though I'm hyperventilating. My chest heaves from my exertions and the nerves in my stomach muscles flutter. And I'm shamefully aware that, with my legs spread wide, the most intimate and private part of my body -my anus-is open for inspection. I feel the quick opening and closing of my sphincter as its contractions keep time with my rapid breathing; the sensitive tissue surrounding it is tickled and teased by the slow flow of my sweat as it trickles down through the course of my ass-crack to my legs. Totally immobilised, I'm acutely aware of my complete helplessness and my utter vulnerability. Then suddenly I feel a hand pressing down firmly on the top of my ass as another hand soothingly strokes my back much as one would with a frightened animal. Gradually, my panic eases, my heartbeats slow down and my breathing returns to normal. I turn my head to see who it is that has such a calming effect on me and see my Master standing at my side; they are his hands on my body. Idiotically, the thought races through my mind that by this simple gesture - this placing of his hands on my naked body - he is claiming me as his new property. I'm yet to wear his personal brand but his hands have symbolically marked me as his own. Then, with his hand still resting atop my ass, he reaches between my legs searching for my cock and balls. I gasp as he none too gently pulls them back between my legs and cradles them in his cupped hand. Nervously, I wait as he examines my genitals. I feel the skin of my scrotum stretched, each ball rolled between his forefinger and thumb and the stripping back of my foreskin from the head of my cock. I ask myself - is he genuinely evaluating his new property or is this yet another form of humiliation he's subjecting me to? Either way the effect upon me is the same. I'm degraded by it. By this very action, I realise that I'm owned property and that my body is no longer my own. Eventually, he's satisfied and playfully pats my ass much as one does with a pet animal. By these actions, my Master dehumanises me and reduces me to the level of a domestic beast-of burden. He speaks directly to me. "That's a good pair of knockers you've got there, Rafe. But let's just tuck them back under out of the way of the cane. We don't want them damaged do we?" At this point, as he tucks my package back under me, I feel my new sense of slave worthlessness. His hands demean me; his touch is more degrading than the slave collar around my neck and more shameful than my new brand. I realise that my caning is imminent and once more my fear causes me to beg for mercy. "Please Master. Please." I hear my plaintive pleading, "Please Master." With my head turned sideways, I look back along the bench at my Master and Cato who stand directly behind me. My eyes are wide open with animal-like fright. "You ordered twenty strokes, Master. Is that correct? Where on the slave do you want me to place them?" "That's right, Cato. Twenty strokes on his ass. He's to receive ten on each cheek. Can that be done without interfering with his brand?" "Yes Master. That's not a problem." "Oh! And Cato after you've finished with that he's to receive another two strokes to the back of his thighs as punishment for his bad behaviour. He's to learn that I won't accept such behaviour from a slave." This increase to twenty-two strokes of the cane panics me and I begin to shout noisily and I struggle uselessly to free myself from my restraints. I hear my Master instruction to Cato. "Increase that to three strokes, Cato." Then, as I continue to struggle I hear "Make it four, Cato." Quickly it sinks into my mind that this is an uneven contest of wills and one which I'm doomed to lose. It is only after my punishment has been increased by five strokes of the cane that I admit defeat and lie still. My Master chides me on both my behaviour and foolishness. "That was foolish of you Rafe. Your bad behaviour has earned you a further five strokes. You of all people should know a slave can never win out over his master. As a new slave there are only two options open to you. To accept your new status and make things as easy as possible for yourself or to continue to struggle and have your rebelliousness whipped out of you. And make no mistake; I won't hesitate to have you flogged if you decide to defy me or my overseers. It's your choice. I suggest you think about it as Cato canes you." Guy Maratier's words disturb me and the frightening reality is that what he said to me is true. I recognise the futility of further struggle and know there isn't any other option but to submit to his will. Shaking with emotion-or is it fear-I once more beg for his leniency. "Master. I'm sorry. It wasn't rebelliousness that made me struggle, Master. It was fear of Cato's cane. Please Master, don't punish me. PLEASE!" "I'm glad to know it was fear and not defiance that caused you to act up, Rafe. But as a slave you need to understand that troublesome behaviour or a bad attitude will always be rewarded with either the cane or the whip and there can be no leniency for you on this occasion. Also Cato tells me it is a long standing practice that all new slaves are caned on their arrival here and I can't make an exception in your case. So let's get it over and done with shall we. Then we can all move on. CATO! Are you ready?" This is it. There is to be no last minute reprieve for me. As I brace myself for Cato's onslaught on my body, I begin to sob. My head is turned towards the watching house slaves and I see both Norge and Ben standing in the front row. I am unaware that Norge had been unharnessed and placed among the other slaves; this must have happened amid the tumult of my outburst. Shamefaced, I turn away from them; I don't want to see their satisfaction at my suffering. I tense my body and wait. Then, I hear a familiar voice; it is Major Swanston from next door. "Forgive my intrusion, Guy. But I heard all the commotion and shouting and thought I should just check to see all is going well with you." "Thank you for your concern, Major. But everything is in order. The shouting you heard was coming from Rafe. He's not too keen about being caned as you can imagine." "Ah! It seems I've timed my visit at the right time. Do you mind if I stay and watch?" "Not at all, major. You're most welcome. CARRY ON CATO!" Now my world is about to explode into one of pain as Cato takes up his position behind me. Once more I tense my body in anticipation of my coming ordeal. Cato doesn't hurry. He stands behind me and limbers up. Is he playing a game with me such as a cat does when toying with a captive mouse? From behind me, I hear the fearful whine of the cane and several times I flinch and cry out in false anticipation of its agonising sting. After several such false alarms, I relax my body. Then I hear the sinister whine of the cane followed by a resoundingly loud "thwack" as the WHIPPISTIK cuts across the left cheek of my upturned buttocks. Momentarily I feel nothing. In the split second that it takes for my brain to register my pain I'm suspended in a limbo of waiting. Then, as the excruciating pain explodes throughout my body I hear my detached scream of outrage and pain. I cry out to my Master for mercy. "OH! Master, Please, Master?" Then once more I hear the dreadful whine of Cato's cane and feel the awful pain. Again and again this is repeated. The advertising claim of the manufacturers of the WHIPPISTIK is accurate and I can vouch for its veracity. There is an extra sensory dimension that adds to my suffering. I fearfully listen for the sinister whine which I know will be followed immediately by indescribable pain. And Cato-true to his earlier threat - doesn't hold back in his use of the cane; I feel the full force of his strong arm in each stroke. Now I'm reduced to an incoherent, sobbing mess. My pain racked body screams for relief and my voice begs for mercy. I'm finding there are two aspects to my chastisement; the physical and the emotional. By far the physical aspect is the most obvious. After all I'm very much feeling my pain and my audience of slaves and free men are able to see and hear my suffering. But the emotional aspect is less obvious; it is buried within me. It is deeply personal and it must be endured by me alone. I can best describe my emotions as raw. At this moment in time, they are as lacerated as I imagine my ass is fast becoming. For the first time in my life, I can see the awful inhumanity of treating a slave in the manner in which I'm being punished. Made naked, immobilised and caned at the behest of my Master, I am reduced to nothingness. It strips me of my humanity, deprives me of my individuality and proves my worthlessness as a person. My only worth is now measured in my capacity to serve my Master. It lies in the strength of my body to work for his enrichment and in the emptying of my mind to all else but his needs. I am now at the lowest point of my life and it is at this moment that I fully accept my slavery. The unendurable pain of the cane has made it so. The awful pain I'm suffering convinces me to do everything in my power to avoid such punishment in the future. It is true; I've learnt that these introductory canings for a new slave DO stamp the Master's authority on him and in Major Swanston's words the whip and the cane "exercise a slave's mind wonderfully". I now know that there are only two goals in my new life as a slave - to serve my Master loyally and obediently and to do all within my power to avoid his displeasure. I have capitulated. I am now a slave in every sense of the word and what surprises me is that this has happened within the space of one afternoon. Cato continues to rain blows upon me. My chastisement has taken on a rhythmic pattern - one of the whining of the cane, the loud thwack as it lands on my exposed body and my cry of pain. They are the only sounds to break the early evening silence. Cato has settled into a routine of deliberately taking aim at a particular spot, delivering the stroke to it with the full force of his considerable strength and the inevitable long pause between strokes to allow me to savour the latest one. I haven't been counting the strokes; my pain prevents me from doing so. But as Cato changes his stance and takes aim at my right buttock, I know I have receive ten of my original twenty strokes. How long has it taken Cato to deliver these first ten strokes? I don't know. Time seems to have slowed down for me and I'm only aware of my fear and suffering. Once more in desperation, I beg my Master for leniency. His continuing silence tells me there isn't to be any. Now I feel Cato's cane cut into my right buttock for the first time. Nine times this is repeated and nine times I cry out my anguish. Then mercifully it stops. But I know my reprieve is to be brief for I'm still to receive another five strokes across the back of my thighs. Through the mist of my tears, I feel a finger painfully tracing out the pattern of the strokes on my rump. I yelp with the distress this causes me but again I'm ignored and the finger continues with its exploration. I turn my head to see who is causing my discomfort and see it is my de facto grandfather, Major Swanston. "I say Guy; this new cane is most effective. I've got to say I'm most impressed with it. This slave won't be sleeping on his back tonight or for quite a few more, I'll wager." He jokes at my expense and adds, "And I don't think he'll be sitting down anytime soon either." "Any discomfort he feels over the next few days will remind him to behave himself and not to give offence wouldn't you agree major?" "Most definitely, Guy." "Good! Cato, please continue." Now I feel the pain move down into my legs as Cato deliberately and systematically deliver the final five strokes of my punishment. The pain caused is no less intense than the earlier, twenty strokes but the break in between, as the major examined me, has allowed me to gain a little of my composure. These final five strokes are something of an anticlimax when compared to the previous ones. I'm not to know that the real pain will come later as over the next few days I embark on the duties assigned to me by my Master. For some considerable time this pain will serve as a reminder of his annoyance at my behaviour and the price I had paid for displeasing him. Now the physical part of my ordeal is over but my misery persists. I cry quietly as the house slaves are dismissed and ordered back to their duties. I raise my head and watch as Cato leads Norge to his stall in the stables where he'll be chained up and locked in for the night. Soon the courtyard is empty save for me, my Master, Simon Barrow and Major Swanston. I am the focus of their attention as they talk. "Well Guy. It would appear that you have broken the slave's spirit." The major volunteers his opinion. "It wasn't too hard to do and only good can come from that. It's good for the slave; he'll be happier serving you and it's good for you to have a slave who's keen to please his Master. " "Do you really think so, major? Do you think his spirit has been broken?" My Master asks. "Oh! Most definitely I do. I'm older than you Guy and -no offence intended - but I've had considerably more experience with slaves than you have. One thing I can always tell is when a slave admits defeat and submits to his master. And this one has, most definitely." "I'm disappointed," my Master laughs, "that it has happened so easily and so quickly. I was looking forward to a longer tussle with him. Damn him!" "I wouldn't worry on that score, Guy. The slave will still need lots of training and coercion and I'm sure you'll still find enjoyment in bending him to your will. Really, a slave never stops learning. I'm not sure whether it's their natural stupidity or ingrained wilfulness but slaves are always in need of correction." "I take your point about my lack of experience with slaves, major and that's a situation I intend to correct very quickly. But tell me; if you're correct and Rafe's spirit has been broken - is it always that easy?" "It depends on the slave, Guy. Some new slaves are very strong willed and resist submitting to their owner's will. These slaves make their own lives and those of their owners extremely difficult. Others are like this slave and just give in. Don't forget that just a few hours ago, Rafe was a free man who'd never done an honest day's work in his life. He'd been spoilt by his doting grandparents and lived a life of ease and luxury. This made him pampered and soft and unable to cope with any real problems that came his way. Why since Jean-Claude Barrois passed on he was always seeking my advice. He seemed incapable of making a decision for himself. But that's not all that surprising now that we know he springs from slave stock is it? Confronted with the first big crisis in his life it is easier for him to simply surrender. No, Rafe doesn't have the will to fight you; it's much simpler for him to submit to you. And now if you'll excuse me it's my dinner time." As I listened to the major's words I realised he is correct. His assessment of me is true. I don't have the willpower or the resolve to fight against the calamities that have befallen me this afternoon. How can I fight against the establishment that has passed judgement on me and returned me to my rightful place in society? I was born a slave and despite the years I lived as a free person, my real destiny is that of a slave. I now accept this fact. I am the slave Rafe and Guy Maratier is my Master. But for all that it is still a bitter pill for me to swallow. To be continued........................

`CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES' A Sequel to "A Reversal of Fortune" Chapter 25: `In Transit' This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years. Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) Read my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures. " Chapter 25: `In Transit' The drive out from the city to La Fort is a pleasant one and I'd always enjoyed making it. It's a journey I've made countless times over the years and I know the road well. And over the past twelve months or so, I have made it at least a dozen times and always with Norge pulling my trap. From the driver's viewpoint it is a picturesque trip but I suspect from a pony's perspective it is quite different. The road is far from straight - there are too few straight stretches where it is possible to give a pony his head and let him run at full gallop - and mostly it meanders over hills and down valleys and slows the pony to a brisk trot. I'd always allowed Norge to run easy on these trips and I had never driven him too hard. Of course, he'd often found the uphill runs to be challenging and it had been necessary for me to apply my whip to him to have him maintain his pace. I'd always aimed the whip low down at his ass crack. The driver's whip I used was especially made for me. Made of the finest quality, calf leather it was long, thin and very flexible with its thin tip designed to slip in between the pony's upper legs and tickle his balls. From my experience this evokes the most response from any pony and this was always the case with Norge. One flick of the whip and he quickened his pace appreciably. But I was humane; at the end of a solid run I always examined Norge's balls to see if there was any swelling or welting. And if there was, I would apply a soothing balm to ease his discomfort. However, whenever we came to a flat, straight piece of road, Norge would often break his stride and run faster. I always allowed him the latitude to do this but I'm not sure why he did so. Perhaps it was to stretch his powerful legs or possibly he was challenging himself to do better and to show me what he was capable of or it could simply have been that the change of pace relieved the monotony of the trip from his perspective. Today, I'm making this trip with Norge. But I'm no longer in the driver's seat. That place is occupied by my Master, Guy Maratier and he has a passenger - his son Etienne. I am tied to the left side shaft of the trap and so I'm running on Norge's left. Fastened to the right side shaft is my fellow slave, Pollux who runs on his right. Today, our Master is delivering both of us out to La Fort to begin our labours as field slaves. As dreadful as this might seem, I am nevertheless luckier than the unfortunate Pollux. My stint working as a plantation slave is to be temporary - of six months duration - whereas Pollux has been banished permanently; condemned to spend the rest of his days in hard servitude. Pollux is shocked and disbelieving of his fate. He can't grasp what is happening to him. A recent purchase, the supremely confident Pollux felt he was destined for better things as our Master's favourite and that soon he'd be appointed as the new house steward to replace the unfortunate Cato. I had overheard my Master tell his grandmother that the luckless Cato now labours in some hellishly hot, marble quarry. Her venomous reply that this is "better than Cato deserves" conveyed to me the bitter spitefulness of her nature and I know some of her malice is reserved for me. But the overreaching Pollux's personality had angered our Mistress, Charlotte Maratier who insisted there isn't a place in our Master's household for such a cocky slave. She added that it was preposterous to even consider him for appointment to the position of house steward. After all there already existed a slave within the household, who in her opinion, was eminently suited to the task and this was my former bed-slave, Ben. She had advised her grandson to get rid of Pollux and so today, he joins me on my trip out to La Fort. And in accordance with his grandmother's wishes, my Master has appointed Ben as his new house steward. Today, as I run alongside Norge, I have all the time I need to reflect on all that has happened to me since Lionel Schuster's appraisal of me two weeks ago. But where do I start? >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> La Fort! This name is both lyrical and magical at the same time. Lyrical in that it rolls musically off the tip of my tongue and magical in that it conjures up images of great beauty and happy boyhood memories for me. The plantation, La Fort - or `The Forest' - had been in the Barrois family for many generations. In fact, I was the latest generation of the Barrois to inherit it and I was one to lose it. Now it is no longer mine - it has passed to a distant branch of the family - but in a sense I'm still very much a part of the plantation. I am destined to become one of the hundreds of nameless slaves who toil in its fields to generate its great wealth. At the last census, the plantation covers some six thousand acres of deep rich alluvial soil which is periodically added to by the occasional flooding of the wide river running along its northern boundary. This river is the real source of La Fort's bountiful harvests and the Barrois have always used it to their advantage. Previous generations of the Barrois have used the river to irrigate the more than three thousand acres under agriculture. The plantation is subdivided by a grid of wide waterways that carry the water to where it is needed to irrigate the crops. The water is kept flowing through these canals by a series of huge waterwheels - all slave powered - working nonstop around the clock for 365 days a year and which keep the water flowing into a series of narrower channels that criss-cross the fields under cultivation. Again the water is kept flowing through these lesser channels by smaller waterwheels and it is finally delivered onto the crops by strategically placed water pumps. And it goes without saying that these smaller waterwheels and pumps - like the larger ones on the canals - are also operated by slaves. These canals and channels are high maintenance - they are continually silting up and must be kept clear to maintain a constant water flow - and the plantation has always had special gangs of slaves to perform this task. Traditionally, these gangs have been recruited from among the more troublesome elements of La Fort's slave population. The intransigent, the chronically lazy and the argumentative slave finds corrective and beneficial employment in these gangs. Working belly deep in mud and water - and controlled by the bullwhips of their overseers - it is hard for these miserable wretches to be anything other than gainfully employed. Of all my happy boyhood memories perhaps the one that lingers with me the most has me sitting beside my grandfather as he drove his pony and trap around the plantation on his daily tours of inspection. Always without exception, he would stop and watch these channel cleaners as they toiled away. On my grandfather's approach, the overseers would bring their whips into prominent play as though they wished to impress him with their diligence. I also enjoyed these halts; as I watched the slaves at their work I was affected by some as yet unidentified emotion. I was faintly disturbed by their naked physicality and their sheer animal like strength; I found this unsettling; yet each day I looked forward to returning and observing them. In time, I would see this through different eyes. I had been orphaned as a small boy and I spent my lonely childhood with my beloved grandparents who both loved the pastoral peace and quiet of the plantation. Consequently, much of my boyhood was spent at La Fort and I also came to love the place. Even as an adult I had visited it at every opportunity. It was my safe haven; a quiet refuge from the noise of the city and a peaceful counterfoil to the hurly burly of the many business enterprises for which I was responsible. I escaped to La Fort whenever I was troubled or in need of peace and quiet. I loved La Fort with every fibre of my being. Today, I'm returning to La Fort but not as its owner; I am now one of its hapless slaves. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It was Jean-Marc de Barrois who established the family in the New World. Family history has it that the young, French aristocrat had fled Revolutionary France for the safety and security of the family's sugar holdings in the Caribbean where for the next few years he'd prospered. However, he'd been forced to flee for a second time during a violent uprising of the island's black slaves which saw the white population almost wiped out. Alone and penniless, Jean-Marc was forced to find new ways to recoup his lost fortunes. Family tradition has it that he became a successful privateer raiding English shipping for rich booty and eventually amassing enough money to buy and establish La Fort thus laying the foundations for the family's later prosperity. The family always found the notion that this first Barrois - he dropped the aristocratic "de" before his name - was a pirate as romantic. Indeed as I was growing up, I heard the story repeated many times and I shared the family's pride in my famous pirate ancestor. But often in the murkiness that passes as family history truth and reality are two different things and it wasn't until after my grandfather's death that I discovered the "true" foundation of the family's wealth. As the sole beneficiary to my grandfather's estate, I had access to all the family records and papers dating back over the previous Barrois generations. Buried within these were the sordid secret and the ugly truth of where we had acquired our enormous wealth. Jean-Marc wasn't the romantic privateer of family tradition. The truth was more sordid; he was a ship-owner and slave-trader who delivered countless, hapless victims to the horrors of the plantations of the New World. At first, I'd been shocked by this revelation. Hadn't my grandfather always despised those who made their livings from dealing in human flesh? And hadn't I shown my contempt too in my treatment of people like Lionel Schuster. At first, the thought occurred to me that my behaviour was hypocritical. Then I convinced myself that I shouldn't feel guilty; after all I'm not responsible for the actions or guilt of my forebears - am I? It was so easy to assuage my conscience. And anyway slavery is perfectly legal - all of my class benefit from it - so why should I stand in judgement of its practice some hundreds of years ago. True, slavery had been abolished and during that period, La Fort had stagnated. Without a stable, cheap labour force it had become unprofitable and it has languished. It survived only because of the Barrois family's strong attachment to its roots. Several generations ago, the family had diversified and broadened its investment base and there had been ample funds from these new enterprises to subsidise operations at plantation. The family's sentimentality for its traditions had saved La Fort for each succeeding generation. Fortuitously, with the re-introduction of modern slavery, La Fort's fortunes looked up once more. Now with an assured supply of cheap, constant slave labour it became profitable and now stands as one of the jewels in the Barrois treasury. But I forget; the Barrois are no more. They have been replaced by another branch of the family - the Maratier's. I am the last of the once proud and powerful Barrois dynasty. And even that name has been taken from me. Now I am a slave known simply as Rafe and I'm on my way to join the slave labour force of the plantation that was so recently mine. The irony of this isn't lost on me. The first Barrois had laid the foundations for the enormous wealth that I had so recently inherited on the whip scarred backs and sweat stained bodies of countless, wretched slaves. Grimly, I reflect that, as the last Barrois, I am now a slave condemned to continue this shameful tradition and to labour in those same fields. But there is one final, supreme irony that doesn't escape me. All the overseers at La Fort are black -some are probably descendants of those first African slaves who laboured for Jean-Marc Barrois all those centuries ago. What a bitter twist of fate. Their descendants are now the black over lords of La Fort while the last Barrois heir of Jean-Marc is doomed to work under their whips as a white slave. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> CANED: So much has happened to me in the past two weeks and events are a tangled collection of confused thoughts and recollections. How do I go about making sense of it all? Where do I begin? I suppose the best way is to deal with them chronologically and begin at the beginning. After my appraisal by Lionel Schuster and after my Master had concluded his business with his lawyer, Simon Barrow, he points Norge towards home and has him run at a fast pace. Pollux and I are tethered on either side of Norge and we have to keep pace with him. Obviously, our Master is in a hurry to return home and he applies his whip to Norge mercilessly. The sun is now past its zenith but there is very little relief from the energy sapping, late afternoon heat. Soon all three of us are lathered in sweat and I don't know about Norge or Pollux but soon I convince myself that I am at the end of my endurance. My chest heaves as I gulp air into my oxygen starved lungs - I'm convinced they are about to burst - and my tortured legs feel like jelly which are about to collapse under my weight. Once or twice I do stumble only to feel the agonising sting of my Master's driving whip on my naked body. And to add emphasis to this, he commands me to stay focussed and maintain my momentum. It has to be said the whip provides a strong incentive to obey an order and it is a powerful motivator for good performance. Upon our arrival home, all three of us are on the verge of collapse and immediately my thoughts are for Norge. Poor Norge! Guiltily, I consider my self- indulgent pity is nothing compared to the distress he must feel. I had only to run whereas Norge had the full weight of the trap and its driver behind him. To my surprise I see my former body-slave Ben hurry into the courtyard and drop to his knees in front of our Master. This is unusual. Protocol dictates that the Master is always welcomed home by his steward and as far as I know Cato hasn't been replaced. I'm not to know that our Mistress, Charlotte Maratier has taken it upon herself to have Ben act as the interim steward until Master makes a permanent appointment. Master- how easy it has become for me to think of Guy Maratier as "Master"- talks with Ben and moves inside the house. Ben seems to have a new found confidence and busies himself organising the yard slaves as we are unharnessed and given water to drink while others bring out the caning bench from the stables and place it in the centre of the courtyard. I'm concerned when I see this but then I remember Pollux is a new slave and he is to be initiated into the household with his ritualistic caning. I breathe easier and sigh with relief that it is Pollux who will be caned and not me. It's obvious that Pollux is mightily impresses by his new home. His mouth is agape as he takes in the size and grandeur of our Master's home. It is much bigger and more palatial than he ever envisaged and it far surpasses anything that he'd been exposed to in the past. He can only wonder at the enormous wealth of his new owner. If I was a mind-reader I would be surprised at what Pollux is thinking. Pollux was until today, a "one man's slave". He'd only ever had one master - a man of modest means and Pollux was the youngest of his three slaves - the other two being much older. This owner was elderly and in the early stages of dementia and he soon became enraptured - or trapped -by his charming, young slave's considerable talents in the bedroom. It was a situation open to abuse and the wily Pollux exploited it to the fullest. Within a very short time he controlled both his forgetful owner and his household and he had manoeuvred himself into the position as head of the household. He was now the unofficial master. This power feed his ambition and boosted his ego until he considered himself untouchable. But his master had recently died - an unforeseen setback - and the executors of the estate had no use for a slave of overblown self-importance and questionable behaviour and he had been packed off, along with the other two slaves, to be sold. Pollux looks around at his new home and its slaves. He sees both as ripe for a takeover. He tells himself that this new owner is an easy target and open to manipulation. And he will use his body and his considerable bedroom talents to both tempt and seduce his new master. He just knows that once Guy Maratier has tasted his delights he'll have him eating out of the palm of his hand. But Pollux is puzzled by all the activity taking place around him. Why are all the household slaves now assembling in the courtyard and what is that strange contraption standing at its centre? And who is this distinguished looking gentleman and his brutish slave who have just joined them? I watch as Major Swanston walks towards me and I lower my eyes to the ground both as a mark of respect and out of the shame I feel at standing naked before the man who has known me since childhood. "Good afternoon, Rafe. How are you?" "Good afternoon, Sir." I answer respectfully without raising my eyes. "I'm well - thank you Sir." "Good boy! And what duties did your Master assign to you today?" "None Sir! My Master took me to be valued, Sir." "Did he indeed? I must ask him about your worth. But tell me Rafe - have you been behaving yourself?" "I think so, Sir." "That's the wrong answer boy. The answer is either yes or no. Not `I think so'. Slaves don't think." Sternly, he repeats his question. "Now I'll ask you again. Have you been a good slave?" What answer can I give? Can a slave be the judge of his own actions? Can he pre-empt his master's decision about his behaviour? Quickly, I think back over the day's events and decide my misdemeanours were trivial. There is only one answer I can give. "Yes Sir! I've been a good slave, Sir. But you must ask my Master if he thinks I've been good and if he is satisfied with me, Sir." And I hope my answer is the right one. The Major is joined by my Master and together they inspect a surprised Pollux. It's obvious that he isn't used to such inspections. He lacks experience and he is unsure of what is expected of him. The Major asks my Master's permission to examine Pollux in more detail and, permission granted, he now orders the slave to display. Pollux hesitates and receives a stinging slap to the face and is told to. "Do it now!" Pollux stands trembling as the Major's eager hands explores the plains and valleys of his body and I see the crimson flush of his shame as the Major hefts and weighs his balls and strokes his cock to full erection. I see the tears brimming in his eyes as he is ordered to "turn, bend and spread" and I watch as his tormentor excites his puckering anus. Then with a loud, dismissive slap on the ass, Pollux is ordered to. "Stand and face the front". I'm standing in a group with my fellow slaves and we watch and listen impassively as Major Swanston congratulates our Master on his latest purchase. He declares Pollux to be "fine specimen and a good buy". Then he adds. "Well I suppose we should continue with the business in hand. Pug is ready if you are, Guy?" Poor Pollux! Still shocked by Major Swanston's treatment of him, he is blissfully unaware of what is about to happen and he watches as Pug checks out the restraints on the whipping bench and takes the Whippistik from Ben. Then his curiosity gets the better of him and he asks me. "What's happening? What's going on?" How do I answer? How do I tell him he is about to undergo an archaic, ritualistic act of barbarity that I had inherited from my forbears and which I had enthusiastically endorsed when I was the Master? How do I tell him of the agonising pain he is about to experience as his ass is savagely caned by the gorilla-like slave, Pug? I know that pain only too well. My own ass still aches from my two recent canings. From out of my own suffering, I feel pity for Pollux but also relief that he is the one being caned and not me. Emotionally, I couldn't take another caning. But how do I answer Pollux's question? Fortunately, I don't have to. Pollux is nonplussed as Ben directs two burly yard slaves to take hold of him and lead him over to the bench. Pollux still hasn't made the connection between the bench and himself. He submits peacefully and allows himself to be lead towards the caning bench and I'm reminded of an unsuspecting lamb going to its slaughter. From somewhere among the watching house slaves there is ripple of nervous laughter. I suspect this laughter isn't malicious. It's not prompted by any sadistic anticipation of watching as a fellow slave suffers. Rather it is the nervous laughter of profound relief that we aren't the ones to be caned. We - all of us without exception - have been in Pollux's position. And we know what he is about to experience. Approaching the bench, Pollux seems uncomprehending. It's not until the sadistic Pug swipes the cane through the air several times that the truth finally dawns on him. He hears the fearful whine as the cane as it cuts through the resisting air and he sees Pug's limbering up of his whipping arm. Now he struggles in the firm grasp of the two slaves and he vainly tries to dig his heels into the cobblestoned surface of the yard. He pleads with our Master to spare him all to no avail. Despite his struggling, he's soon fastened into position with his upper body resting on the bench top and his arms stretched out before him. Soon his legs too are tied into place and his ass positioned at just the right angle for the cane. Pollux has never been caned and he is totally unprepared for his ordeal. He is shocked beyond belief that this is happening and once more he begs our Master to spare him. Master ignores his pleas and he and the major walk over to examine the terrified slave. The Major places his hand on Pollux rump and is quick to comment. "Guy, viewed from this angle, I can see what attracted you to this boy." "Yes major it was the deciding factor for me. He wriggled his ass at me and I was smitten." "I can understand that, Guy. But after Pug is finished with him I don't think he'll be wriggling his posterior for a few days." The Major laughs and asks. "What do you think?" "No I shouldn't think so. Pug certainly knows how to lay the cane on doesn't he? I know that Rafe is still sore. A couple of times today I saw him rubbing his ass when he thought I wasn't looking." "That's good, Guy! A slave needs to feel his caning for quite a few days after receiving it. As I always say it keeps his mind wonderfully focused on being an obedient slave. But if you're ready let's continue, shall we?" Pug follows his usual custom and now plays with Pollux by swishing his cane through the air always stopping just short of making contact with his body. Previously, Pug had done the same with Cato and me and I well know the state of Pollux's mind. He would be in turmoil as he prepares his terrified mind and involuntarily tightens his body in anticipation of the excruciating pain only to have it not materialise. Several times Pug plays his cruel mind-game until Pollux is lulled into a false sense of security and relaxes. Then Pug strikes with the full force of his strength. I shudder as I hear the swish of the cane and the loud thwack as it lands on Pollux's unprotected rump. There is a momentary silence before the slave's loud, agonised shriek. I try not to watch the steady, methodical rise and fall of the cane and I try to shut out Pollux's pain filled cries of agony. I am filled with pity for Pollux. It is the unique pity that one slave feels for another's suffering and I avert my eyes away from the obscene spectacle being played out before me. I look back towards Master's house and I see his grandmother looking down into the courtyard from an upstairs window. She obviously doesn't share my squeamishness. Then I remember I'd been caned previously for doing this - Master had said I shown disrespect to my Mistress by looking directly at her - and I quickly look away. I hope she hasn't seen me looking in her direction? Hopefully, she is too interested in watching Pug and Pollux to notice me? I hope so. Finally, Pollux has received his allotted number of strokes and his ordeal is over. Sobbing from the pain and humiliation of his caning he is released and told to take his place among us. I watch as he walks unsteadily towards us ruefully rubbing his rump in a futile effort to ease his pain. We move apart and allow him to stand with us as we await our Master's command to dismiss and return to our duties. I eagerly await Master's command. It has been a long, traumatic day for me and I am emotionally exhausted. I want to return to my stall with Norge and to lie in his strong embrace as I pour out my heart to him. I need for him to hold me tight and to ease away my fears. I just want to fall asleep wrapped in his powerful arms. I am so tired and all I want to do is to sleep beside him. . "RAFE! STEP FORWARD!" Master's command to me is unexpected and I'm momentarily thrown into confusion. But then I regain my composure and hurry forward and kneel at his feet. Apprehensively, I wait on his words. "Rafe, you disappointed me today. Your behaviour was mixed to say the least. Some of it was good and some of it was bad. You disappointed me on three counts today. Can you tell me what they were?" "No Master, I am sorry Master!" This is all I can manage to answer from my fear and confusion. What have I done to anger my Master? "Think boy, Think on it." Again I'm confused. My Master now tells me to think yet just a short time ago Major Swanston told me slaves aren't meant to think. But my Master has told me to think and I must obey. Quickly, I think back on the day's events in an effort to recall the reasons for Master's displeasure. He expects an answer and I must find one. "The umbrella, Master? Was it the umbrella?" "Indeed it was, Rafe. That's one aspect of your disappointing behaviour. As we were leaving the dealer's I had to instruct you to fetch the umbrella to shade me. I shouldn't have had to do that. You should have anticipated that and not wait until you were instructed to do so. A slave needs to keep his wits about him at all times. Instinctively, a slave should know his master's needs or requirements. Today you failed that test." "I'm sorry, Master." As I stammer out my apology, I'm consumed by a new fear. Am I to be punished? "Can you tell me what your other offences were, Rafe?" "No Master!" I answer truthfully and I now begin to tremble. I have displeased my Master and I don't know how or why. But I know there'll be a price to pay for that. "Well then, let me enlighten you, boy. Today you hesitated to obey a legitimate instruction given to you by a free man. When Mr Schuster instructed you to clean up your mess you hesitated and looked to me for guidance. Personally, I detest the creature but I had placed you under his control and therefore you were subject to his direction. He gave you an instruction and you hesitated. If you recall I had to command you to do as Mr Schuster wanted. My personal dislike of Mr Schuster is immaterial; he is a free man and you are a slave and you should have obeyed him. You must understand that a slave is subject to obedience at all times. Do I make myself clear?" "Yes Master!" Now I am truly afraid. "And last but not least, you wrongly assumed that my refusal to allow you to pleasure Mr Schuster was made out of consideration for you. Nothing could be further from the truth. I did so because it was what I wanted. Your feelings played no part in my decision and you should know a slave never makes assumptions. And I didn't appreciate your expressions of gratitude at sparing you. You added to my displeasure by telling me that you didn't want to suck his cock. That was grossly impertinent of you. You had no say in the matter. If I'd wanted you to suck his cock then you'd have done so. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?" "Yes Master. I'm sorry Master." "These were serious breaches in your behaviour, Rafe and I can't allow them to go unpunished. Each of the three is deserving of five strokes of the cane." The awful realisation that I'm to receive fifteen strokes of the cane panics me. I lose my composure and begin to plead for leniency. "Please Master! Don't cane me Master? I'm so sorry Master. Pleaseeeee!" Master ignores my pleas and continues. "However Rafe, I did say there were some good elements in your behaviour today. I was particularly impressed with your civility to the three young gentlemen I invited to watch your appraisal. I have to say I was impressed by your agreeable attitude towards them. And later your politeness in answering the questions of my lawyer, Mr Barrow did you credit. I was very pleased with you and they are deserving of a reward." I sigh with relief. My Master tells me I'm to be rewarded for my agreeable behaviour. Perhaps I'll escape the caning. Desperately, I hope so and silently I pray for leniency. "Rafe, your good behaviour mitigates your bad behaviour somewhat and it'll be rewarded. For each of your three misdemeanours you'll receive five strokes of the cane but for each of the two instances of good behaviour you'll receive a remission of two strokes. Do you understand, Rafe? Can you work out the mathematics and tell me what your punishment will be?" My shocked mind has already done the sums and I have worked out that I am to receive eleven strokes of the cane rather than fifteen and I tell my Master this. It's a small reprieve it's true but never-the-less it's a welcome one. But I'd hoped for a bigger reward - no caning at all. My spirits quail at the thought that once more I'm to be caned by Pug and I plead in vain with my Master to spare me. He ignores my tearful entreaties. "So Rafe, go and place yourself on the bench so that Ben can fasten you down ready for Pug. And as Pug canes you, I want you to think of this caning as a both a punishment for bad attitudes and a reward for good ones. I want you to reflect on this and at some time I'll question you about the conclusions you come to. So think hard, Rafe." Futilely, I continue to plead for mercy. But my Master has given his judgement in front of the household slaves and there can lessening of my punishment. For him to do so would amount to a loss of face in front of his slaves and it is inconceivable that any self-respecting master would do this. I now accept the inevitability of my fate. And I think on my Master's "justice". I am to be punished for my bad behaviour with fifteen strokes of the cane and rewarded for my good attitudes by the lessening of this number to eleven. This will serve as food for thought as I am caned. Trembling, I stand and walk slowly towards the whipping bench where a sadistically grinning Pug waits for me as he swishes his cane through the air. My reluctance is obvious and I'm admonished by my Master. "Hurry it up Rafe! Stop dawdling! It's getting late and I'm sure Major Swanston wants to return home for his supper." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> FOREWARNED IS TO BE PREPARED: Sleep eludes me. This evening's caning has added to my previous two canings and intensified my suffering. As I lay in Norge's arms, he questioned me about all that had happened to me as I was appraised by Lionel Schuster. At first my shame saw me holding back on all the sordid details of what I'd been subjected to. But he insisted I tell him everything and so I told him of how Master had invited my three former friends to join him and watch as I was crudely examined by the repulsive slave dealer. I told him of their taunts and jibes to me and how humiliating this had been. He listened patiently to my tale of woe and allowed me to finish. Then he told me -not for the first time - that humiliation is now a part of my life and that I need to accept it as the natural lot of a slave. He went on to say all slaves experienced humiliation on a daily basis and I would be no different. Then almost as a reproach he asked me. "Have you forgotten the shame and humiliation that I suffered when I became your slave?" As Norge's Master, I never given much thought to his feelings. After all why should I? He was only a slave. Now his words take on new meanings. He is reminding me of his own humiliation and pain and it's what he's not saying that cuts deep and shames me. Succinctly, he is reminding me that it was I who humiliated him. I draw him closer to me and whisper. "Oh Norge! I am so sorry." My words are simple but they are heartfelt and full of meaning. Norge questions me about my punishments - what had I done to deserve them? I tell him truthfully about the reasons behind them. He listens and draws on his own experience as a slave to answer them. "Rafe, what you did was wrong. Our Master was right to punish you." He gives an exasperated sigh and continues. "Rafe, what have I been telling you over these past few nights. You're now a slave and you have to start thinking and acting as one or your road will be a hard and difficult one. Have you been listening to what I said to you?" "Yes Norge I have been listening to what you tell me it's just that when I'm given an order I panic and forget what to do." "Well you'll need to do better than that, Rafe or you're facing constant punishment. Rafe, today you broke three fundamental rules governing a slave's behaviour. You hesitated in carrying out an order given to you by a free man, you spoke out of turn and finally you didn't have your wits about you. Your master shouldn't have needed to remind you to protect him with the umbrella. He'd given you that task to do earlier and it was an ongoing duty. You should have worked that out for yourself." "I know, Norge. I just didn't think." "Well you'll need to think mate. Failure to do so will cost you dearly. If you don't then you'll have a permanent pain in the ass. Rafe, our masters don't credit their slaves with much intelligence - they see us as dumb beasts. Yet they expect us to be alert enough to anticipate their every need and to do so without them directing us. You have to learn that - and quickly." "I'll do my best, Norge. I'll try to think." "Rafe you're taxing my patience. Don't try -DO IT! Trying won't be good enough for your master. Promise me you will do better, Rafe?" "I will, Norge. I promise." I'm not sure that Norge is completely convinced by my promise but I will try to remember in future and not give my master any more grounds for complaint. And if I need an incentive to ensure that I don't then my latest caning provides me with one. I snuggle closer to Norge and close my eyes in an effort to sleep. But the dull throbbing ache and the occasional searing pain in my ass make it difficult for me to settle down. Norge has suddenly gone quiet and I assume he is sleeping. But he isn't; he is wide awake and he looks troubled. I want to share his concerns - most likely they are about me - and I ask what is troubling him. He doesn't answer immediately. Then he sighs and asks me. "Rafe, you do know that our master plans to send you out to La Fort for six months don't you? Do you have any idea what it'll be like for you at the plantation?" I do know - I had heard my master mention this several times -but I'd dismissed this from my mind. I neither wanted to know about it nor to even think about it. It was as though not doing so would make it go away and all would be well with me. But I know this isn't so and inwardly I am terrified. As the former owner of La Fort, I know more than any other what awaits me there. I do know about the degrading nakedness, the long days of backbreaking labour, the squalor of the slave stables and the bland uninspiring diet of the plantation's slaves. I do know about the soul-destroying, repetitious toiling on the waterwheels and the pumps where hapless slaves are whipped in a Sisyphean effort to keep the life giving water flowing through to the growing crops. Countless times, as the master, I had watched as my tormented slaves, yoked in pairs, strained to pull their ploughs through the hard, resisting earth. And how often had I pulled Norge to the side of a track and waited as the heavily laden, flat topped, drays hauled by their teams of twenty, heavy duty draft slaves lumbered by? Too numerous to remember and I had remained impassive to their suffering. I sat in the shade of my trap and watched as these slaves, bent almost double under their heavy wooden yokes plodded past in animal like docility. I marvelled as their strong, muscular bodies strained into their leather harness to keep the drays moving forward. I listened to their rasping breathing and their loud grunts and farting as they groaned under their impossibly heavy loads. I'd turned a deaf ear to the loud abusive shouting of their slave-drivers and the sinister hiss of whips whistling over their heads. And I'd been left unaffected by the loud "thwack" as these whips striped their backs. Now to my shame, I think of my former attitude towards them. I'd always been disgusted by their smell and the swarms of stinging, tormenting insects which covered their unwashed, sweat soaked bodies feeding off their accumulated filth. All this further served to re-enforce my prejudice against them; in my opinion they were mere beasts-of -burden. And always, I'd wrinkled my nose in disgust at their foul stench. So what is the answer to Norge's question? Yes I do know; even though I choose not to think about it and I'm terribly afraid. But what terrifies me the most are the overseers. These are men completely without mercy or pity. And they are all black. This is in keeping with the thinking of most large slave-holders. These days, it's very rare to see a white overseer. Black overseers have a fearsome reputation for strictly controlling the slaves under their supervision and they are past masters at squeezing out the maximum amount of effort from their predominately white charges. My grandfather had recognised their talents many years ago and had exclusively employed black overseers from long before I was born. He'd always had a high regard for his black overseers and had been scrupulously honest in all his dealings with them and he'd also generously rewarded them for their efforts on his behalf. He'd had genuine affection for his black overseers and they had returned his affection with their dedication and loyalty. There had always been a deep, mutual respect and trust between them and I had continued with my grandfather's tradition after his death. Grandfather once told me that black men are naturally gifted and born to be overseers and controllers of white slaves. He said there is an indefinable something in the black psyche that pre-ordains them for these roles. They just know they are superior to their white charges and so they have no qualms in strictly controlling a slave - especially if that slave happens to be white. And of course I am both white and a slave. Currently, the head overseer is Claymore Jackson and he was appointed to the position some twenty-odd years ago by my grandfather. Very early on he'd assembled a team of highly competent overseers and he trained them in his methods. He'd set the rules governing the efficient control of my grandfather's slaves and they continue until today. They were highly effective then and they remain so today. Claymore wisely ensures there is an ongoing training programme of slave management for his overseers and that they are kept up to date in all the modern techniques of slave handling. Another long standing tradition instituted by Claymore is an apprenticeship programme for young blacks who are trained to become fully fledged overseers after a few year training at La Fort and other plantations. Claymore was always community minded and years ago it had worried him that some young blacks were drifting aimlessly within their community. He'd mentioned this to my grandfather - himself very community minded and a public benefactor - and between them they hit upon the idea of training black youths to become slave overseers. My grandfather used his prestige and poured a lot of effort and money into establishing this apprenticeship programme. Now all plantations participate in the scheme and have a yearly commitment to recruit and train a number of seventeen to eighteen year old black youths as future overseers. My grandfather insisted that the programme be named in honour its instigator and today it known far and wide as the "Claymore Jackson Apprenticeship Programme". The programme has been enormously successful over the years and Claymore has received many accolades because of it and not least because there now is a continuous supply of eager, well-qualified, young black overseers available to the plantation owners. La Fort had always played its part in the scheme and when I became master I had enthusiastically supported Claymore in its application. Only recently, I'd sat with Claymore as he'd interviewed a seventeen year old prior to granting him an apprenticeship with us at the end of the school year. I must say I'd been impressed by the lad - his name was Conn - and he seemed to have the right attributes for the job. His attitude was positive, he was self-assured and full of confidence and it soon became obvious that he is a natural overseer. I smiled as I thought that soon, my slaves would be addressing this young, black over lord as Sir Conn - as a mark of respect, all black overseers are called sir by the slaves under their control. I'd always taken an interest in La Fort's apprentices and I had keenly followed their progress. These young lads come to the programme as inexperienced and unsure of what is expected of them but without exception they show great enthusiasm and a willingness to learn. It was pleasing to see their confidence grow daily and I always had a sense of satisfaction in seeing them reach their full potential and finally graduate as overseers of my slaves. During their training, Claymore always couples an apprentice with the more senior overseers on a rotating roster system where the apprentice is exposed to the different methods of the individual overseers. And of course one of the first things an apprentice must learn is proper slave control. He must be taught to handle a whip and master its use before he is given one of his own. . This is always a proud moment for an apprentice. The receiving of his own whip is a sign that he is making headway - it is a sign of his authority - and there is a ritual that has developed around its presentation. I always made it a point to be there- I felt the apprentice deserved my recognition - and sometimes Claymore would ask me to make the presentation. But mostly I preferred that he did it; the scheme was his brainchild and he deserved the credit. The apprentice is expected to "blood" his new whip by flogging a miscreant slave. Of course there is never any shortage of subjects for this. Somewhere on the plantation at any time there is a slave deserving of punishment. The older overseers watch and cheer as the apprentice applies his newly acquired whip to the slave's back. Indeed I know they even place bets on how many strokes of the whip it'll take before the slave breaks and pleads for leniency. When the slave first vocalises his pain during his flogging there is loud cheering from the overseers but for me personally it was always a delight to see the proud apprentice grinning so broadly. After my grandfather's death, I'd discussed with Claymore the possibility of increasing the plantation's output. The plantation was highly profitable but I wasn't prepared to let it rest on its laurels. To my mind there should be an ongoing yearly increase in productivity and profits. I asked Claymore if the slaves were working at full capacity. His answer surprised me. He said yes but it's always possible to squeeze just a bit more out of them. When I asked how, he suggested one way would be to extend the slaves' workday by starting earlier in the morning and finishing later in the evening. I mentioned an idea that had been formulating in my mind and asked for his opinion. My idea was for a bonus incentive scheme for the overseers; for every percentage point increase in productivity I would pay them a bonus. I asked Claymore if this would work and he was enthusiastic in his reply. He said his overseers would welcome my plan that gave them more money and I could be assured that any targets I set would be reached. I asked him how this would be achieved and he laughed. "Why with the whip, Lucien." He'd called me by my given name since my childhood. "You can achieve anything from a slave with the judicious use of the whip." We agreed to push ahead with the plan and I left it with Claymore to implement. On my last enquiry about the scheme, he assured me he'd implemented it and it was enthusiastically endorsed by the overseers. So in answer to Norge's question, I do know what to expect when I'm sent out to La Fort. The only other question in my mind is how I - the former master - will be received now that I am a slave. And I answer his question. "Norge, yes I do know what conditions are like out at La Fort." And there is just a touch of irony in my voice as I add. "After all, as the previous master many of the existing conditions were put in place by me and now I must live and work with them." "Rafe, knowing is one thing but experiencing it is quite another. You know from your observations as the former master what is expected of you. But do you have any comprehension of the pain and suffering that is ahead of you? I don't think you do, mate. And you need to prepare your mind for that. And remember -you'll be on your own. I won't be there with you. " Norge's words are sobering and I fall into silence as I allow them to sink in. I do know what will be expected of me. But he is right; I have no idea of what it is like to work fully as a slave, True, I have chopped firewood and cut my Master's lawns but these are child's play when compared to the harsh working environment of a plantation slave. I have never worked from dawn till dusk bent double labouring in the fields and I have never felt a whip on my body. Momentarily, I wonder about the whip. Inevitably, I will taste the lash as the black overseers drive me to work harder in my Master's interests. But how will it feel? Will its pain be as intense as that of the cane? So fiery is the residual pain in my ass that I find this hard to imagine. Nevertheless, I ask Norge if the whip is as painful as the cane. "Rafe, you have no idea," Norge's answer has a bitter edge to it, "at how painful a whip really is. I know you think the cane is painful. Well it is - but its pain is nothing when compared to that of the whip. Rafe, so far what you have received is light punishment similar to that of a parent chastising a naughty child. But the whip is different. It too is meant to punish you but its primary purpose is to make you work harder and faster and to force you to draw on reserves of strength you don't even know you have. And it works believe me." "Norge, were you whipped often when you were out at La Fort?" The anger and exasperation in Norge's voice as he answers tells me my question is both insensitive and stupid. "What do you think?" He snaps. I am chastened by his answer and I lapse into silence. When I was the master, I had accepted - without a second thought - the intolerable working conditions for my slaves and the harsh discipline of my overseers. In my need for increased profits, hadn't I recently put in place an incentive scheme for my black overseers that sees the slaves working longer under a harsher, disciplinary regime? Now, it's with bitter irony that I realise these same conditions will apply to me when eventually my Master sends me out to La Fort. Norge has fallen silent. I now know him well enough to know when he is he is impatient with me. But I have listened to him; I have read between his words and I know of his concern for me and at what he sees as my unpreparedness for my life as a field slave. Hasn't he been trying to forewarn me of what awaits me at the plantation? He has experienced it at firsthand and he knows. I sense his concern and I know he is worried for me and I am touched. I snuggle into his strong, warm nakedness and he draws me closer to him in a tight embrace. As our bodies touch, our cocks cross swords' and, as if of one mind, both spring to attention. I want to make amends for my insensitive question about whether he'd been whipped often and I want to thank Norge for the comfort and support he gives me. There is only one way available to me and slowly, I move my head down over his body pausing to playfully tease his nipples and navel with the tip of my tongue. His body arches and he begins to breathe heavily. He takes my head between his strong hands and guides it down to his cock. Gratefully, I take it into the warm, moist embrace of my mouth. Eagerly, I suckle it and swallow hard. To be continued..........................

CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES A Sequel to "A Reversal of Fortune" Chapter 15:" Rafe's First Day" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) Read my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories Chapter 15: "Rafe's First Day" How do I describe my first, full day of slavery? The sun is approaching its zenith and I am hard at work under its merciless heat. I have been swinging a heavy axe for some five hours in the furnace-like heat and my perspiration trickles in rivulets down my now smooth, hairless body. The sweat stings the cane marks on my buttocks and I'm not even allowed to pause to wipe it from my brow. My back aches from the constant stretching upwards as I raise the axe above my head and my arms are leaden from its downward fall and the jarring as it splits the resisting logs of wood. The work is repetitious and mind-numbing and my time is measured by the never ending rise and fall of the axe and the few moments every hour when I'm allowed to pause - all too briefly - for the few mouthfuls of water to replace that which I have lost through perspiration. I'm now aware that my Master had decided from the luxury of his bed - a bed that until yesterday had been mine - this is how I'm to be introduced into my slavery. Physically and emotionally I am unprepared for it and I'm wrapped in self-pity. My body has always looked good and was much admired. But perception and reality are two very different things; my body was gym-honed and ascetically pleasing. Yet it is unaccustomed to hard work as I'm now discovering; I'm painfully aware of very aching muscle and stretched tendon in my body and the day still has many hours to run. Inevitably there's to be an unintended benefit to me from this constant splitting of the firewood. By the time I'm sent out to La Fort my muscles will be sufficiently hardened and my body made supple enough to cope with the rigours of working as a field slave. But for now, this is lost on me. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> After Norge had been taken away, I was left to wait while my Master decided what should be done with me. Eventually Cato returned to the stable, accompanied by the slave groom and removed the shackles from around my ankles. He didn't bother to explain to me what was to happen - after all no explanations are ever given to a slave - and I was taken to the ablution block. On the way, I saw Norge in harness and tethered awaiting our Master's pleasure. Forbidden to speak, he nevertheless looked directly at me and I saw in his eyes the encouragement I so badly needed to help me through this first, difficult day. The ablution block is attached to the stables and other out buildings and is used by all the household slaves. It can best be described as utilitarian and its fittings are basic. It is here that the slaves must come to relieve themselves and to keep clean. As their Master, I was very fastidious about the cleanliness and appearance of my house slaves. Immediately after their release each morning, they would attend to any calls of nature and then make themselves presentable to serve in my household. I liked my slaves to be smooth bodied and their faces cleanly shaven and this was attended to before they showered. The showers, like the toilets, are communal and open to scrutiny - as a Master, I believed slaves weren't entitled to privacy and nothing they did must ever be done out of my sight - not that I watched. As they showered and prepared themselves for their duties, I was still asleep; but the principle remained that nothing they did was to be done behind closed doors. The ablution block was an area I seldom ventured into; I really disliked the overall drabness and smell of the place. Now I'm about to discover its charm for myself. Cato orders me to squat over one of the sink-holes in the floor to relieve myself; shamefaced I do as he bids. I'm desperate to piss after the long night's incarceration but find it difficult to get started in front of an audience. But I'm encouraged by Cato's withdrawing of his cane from his belt and his impatient instruction to, "Hurry it up, boy! I haven't got all day to wait on you." Fear of Cato's cane provides me with all the incentive I need. I finish pissing and stand up. Cato ignores me as he gives instructions to the slave groom. "The new Master wants this slave made smooth like all the other household slaves." This is news to me. I thought I was to be sent out to La Fort as is - that is with my body hair. Field slaves aren't shaven as too much time is wasted in doing this. The time it takes to shave a slave is time better spent having him toiling in the fields? What has changed that my Master now wants me body shaved? But I know better than to ask and all that is required of me is unquestioning obedience. And fear of Cato's cane keeps me silent. The groom sets to work in preparing me; I'm made to kneel as he shaves my face. I have a full day's stubble as its twenty-four hours since Ben last shaved me in the shower. The groom is proficient at his work and soon my face is back to its customary smoothness. Cato looks on as the slave tells me to stand and retrieves the same clippers that were used on my head last evening. Humiliatingly, I bow my head and watch as my chest hair is clipped back to stubble as close to my skin as possible and even my treasure-trail - of which I am so proud - disappears. I'm made to raise my arms above my head and my armpits are denuded. Then the slave kneels before me and begins to remove my pubes. He is forced to abandon the clippers - my pubic bush is too thick and wiry for them to be effective. Instead he uses a pair of scissor like shears and as I listen to their soft "snip-snip" my shame colours my body a deep crimson and my eyes mist over with my humiliation. Now clipped and snipped, Cato orders me under a shower and turns the faucet to full flow and the needle thin jets of icy cold water blast my skin. I never wasted hot water on my slaves and now, how I wished I had. Even with the promised heat of the day warming the early morning atmosphere, I am shivering and I'm thankful when Cato turns off the tap. I stand drenched and trembling as I await the next assault on my body. Sensing Cato's growing impatience, the slave quickly lathers up my chest and belly and carefully removes all the remaining stubble before moving onto my arms, pits and legs. Then he kneels in front of me and lathers up my cock and balls. At the touch of his hands, my cock hardens and lengthens and my foreskin retracts back along the shaft and exposes my glans to full view. Looking down at the slave, I see he is similarly aroused. Curiosity gets the better of me and I steal a glance at Cato and see the all too obvious tenting beneath his tunic. Obviously, the sight of two, naked, young slaves in such intimate contact with one another has the power to still excite the ageing Cato. Strangely enough, I'd never thought of Cato as being sexually active; it had never occurred to me that he was and I ask myself - why I am surprised by his erection. Despite his age, Cato is still an imposing figure of a slave. Powerfully built and enormously strong - my sore ass is a testament to his strength - it shouldn't have come as a surprise to me that he still retains enough youthful vigour to appreciate the sight of a young slave's firm, well-turned ass or his genitals. Had I ever taken the time to notice, I would have found Cato routinely takes one of the young, house slaves into his sleeping cubicle each night. This concession had been granted to him by my late grandfather and unknowingly, I had allowed it to continue. I wonder which of the two of us is causing Cato's excitement. Is it the young, slave groom or is it me? Perhaps it is both of us. Again, I experience the shame and helplessness that all slaves feel when they are viewed as mere sexual objects by their superiors. Even though he is a slave, Cato is now my superior. He is our Master's agent in supervising the household slaves. This authority had been given to him by my grandfather, endorsed by myself and I suppose it will continue until our new Master decides otherwise. My thoughts are bitter. This time yesterday, Cato treated me as his Master and his obsequiousness then was obvious. Now I stand before him as a new slave who has been placed under his supervision. Already I have felt the heavy hand of his authority as he viciously caned me last night and this morning he is revelling in my new humiliation. Urged on by Cato's growing impatience, the slave carefully removes the stubble of my pubes and gently shaves my cock and balls. As he does so, I hold my breath both from a natural fear of the razor and from the pleasure I derive from its whisper soft movements down over the shaft of my cock and around my scrotum. My fears are unfounded; the slave is obviously expert at this task and I am undamaged; I sustain neither razor nicks nor cuts. Now finished, I give a great sigh of relief. But I'm wrong; the slave still has one more task to do before I am done. Cato orders me to turn around, to move my feet apart and to bend at the waist. I had been placed in this position yesterday as the court's assessor examined me as part of my induction into slavery. It was humiliating then and it is no less so now. But I have no alternative other than to obey and I quickly adopt the required position. I look back through my outstretched legs as Cato places a hand on the top of my ass - even during my short period of slavery I have discovered this placing of a hand on a slave's body is a potent symbol of authority. It humiliates me and subliminally tells me that I am being controlled by my handler. I will encounter it many times throughout the years of my slavery and I will be always be shamed by it. Cato explores the crevasse separating the twin orbs of my buttocks and pauses to tease the delicate tissue surrounding my anus. Instinctively, I know this has nothing to do with his examination of me; it is a demonstration to me of how far I've fallen and of his power over me. Nevertheless, I find myself responding to his touch and feel the pleasurable puckering of my sphincter and the twitching of my cock. Evidently this strikes a chord with Cato; as I look back at him from my upside down position, I note his prominent tenting and the moist, slow spreading stain at the front of his tunic. He reaches beneath me and stretches my cinched scrotum back through my legs to examine my trapped balls. He strokes the soft, silky skin of my ball bag before rolling each testicle between his fingers and thumb. This adds to my growing pleasure and the first, tiny pearl of pre-cum glistens at my piss-slit. Finally, he is satisfied and stands aside to allow the slave to continue. The final and most devastatingly shameful part of my induction into slavery is now to take place. "Right boy, spread them!" Cato's command takes me by surprise. Naively, I wonder what am I to spread - my feet? Nervously, I shuffle my feet as far apart as my legs allow. "What are you doing?" I hear Cato's angry shout and I cry out in pain as his cane cuts across my back, "I didn't mean your feet. I meant the cheeks of your ass. Now reach back and spread them. WIDE!" Re-acting to a second, vicious swipe of Cato's cane, this time on my shoulders, I hastily reach behind my body, grasp a rounded globe in each hand and pull them apart. "WIDER! Wider!" Cato shouts encourage me, "Yes that's it." How can I describe what follows. With my legs apart, I am positioned with my ass pointing to the sky and my head to the ground. The crevasse between my buttocks is spread as wide as is humanly possible and the rosy-pink rosebud of my quivering anus is stretched open to Cato's and my fellow slave's scrutiny. My degradation washes over me and I see my tears darken the cobblestones beneath me. "Well get on with it," Cato shouts at my groom, `We haven't got all day. Be careful with the razor. If you so much as nick him, you'll feel my cane on your ass. Now move!" I wait nervously as the slave lathers up both mounds of my buttocks and the valley that divides them and I tense as I feel the razor slide over my skin. I breathe in deeply and hold my breath as the groom shaves my ass-crack. With his free hand, he manipulates and widens the deep groove allowing him easier access into it recesses. Fearful of Cato's threat to cane him should he damage me, the nervous slave is solicitous of my wellbeing and very carefully scrapes away the few, stray hairs that do grow in this, the most intimate and private part of my body. My body glows with the red-hot intensity of my shame and my mind silently cries out for release from my torment. But there's to be no respite or deliverance for me; for I am a slave - now collared, branded and denuded and condemned to servitude for the remainder of my life. The finality of this sears itself into my shattered confidence. I curse the cruel fate that has delivered me to this place and I once again feel a deep hatred for the man who had so thoughtlessly sired me from one of his father's slaves. For the few moments of carnal pleasure he'd no doubt enjoyed with the slave, I'm now to endure long years of hardship and suffering. I am paying a high price for my father's dalliance with my slave mother. It would have been better for me if I'd never been born. How I wish that was so. When he has finished, the slave stands silently to one side as Cato inspects his handiwork. I feel Cato's index finger move up and down my ass-crack testing it for its new smoothness. Evidently he is satisfied; he grunts his approval and the groom sighs with relief. He has satisfied Cato and he's not to be caned. "Stand, face me and display!" I respond to Cato's barked order and hurry into position. I surprise myself at how quickly and without a second thought, I carry out any commands now given to me. It is becoming second nature to me and this has been achieved within the span of only one day. But the memory of my caning and its fearful pain are powerful motivators. I will do anything to avoid punishment. I stand in front of Cato with my hands clasped behind my head, my feet apart and with my body held taut. At first he slowly circles me and peers at me from all angles. Then beginning at my face, his hands wander over my now hairless body in a final inspection before he gives his approval. If I could see myself in a mirror, I would be unrecognisable as the former Master, Lucien Barrois. Yesterday's man is gone forever and is now replaced by today's slave. In place of the supremely self-confident, young heir, there now stands a timid, frightened slave. Gone forever is the individuality that I had enjoyed as a free man. Missing are the all the hallmarks of my former manhood. My clothes have been replaced by my slave nakedness and the collars I wear around my neck and genitals, my long hair has been shorn back to a slave's crop and my body grotesquely denuded of all the hair that had defined my masculinity. The blistering brand on my left flank tells the world what I am - a slave. I am no longer the former Lucien Barrois; I am now a cruel caricature of him. My appearance has been altered so much that I am almost indistinguishable from all other slaves and I now share with them the uniformity of their condition. Once he is satisfied with me, Cato orders me back under the shower where I'm again blasted with the icy cold water. The groom soaps my body and vigorously scrubs me down. Again his expertise is obvious and, noting Cato's mounting impatience, he moves quickly to finish me - just in time as Cato turns off the water. I stand as the groom uses his hands to dry me and stepping out into the courtyard, I'm left to drip-dry. I wonder - what is to happen to me next. As though he has read my thoughts, Cato orders me to place my hands behind my head while he fastens my wrists to my neck collar. He orders the groom to shackle my ankles and then attaches a lead chain to my collar. A sharp tug of the lead indicates I'm to follow him. I shuffle across the courtyard to where Norge stands waiting for our Master and Cato tethers me alongside of him. Left alone, Norge and I now stand side by side. We are unable to speak; our mutual fear of Cato's cane ensures we remain silent. But we can exchange eye glances and as I look at Norge, he gives me an encouraging smile; he must have known I needed that. My feelings for Norge grow stronger by the minute. He's always been special to me but it had been a strictly Master/slave relationship. But now we are equals - both of us are slaves - and I'm aware of new, emerging emotions. He doesn't know how I'd drawn on his strength as I laid alongside of him during the night and how that had helped me. My journey into slavery is to be traumatic but with Norge at my side, perhaps it will be made just a little easier. As I look at Norge's smooth, hairless body - magnificent in its nakedness and heroic in its proportions - I catch a glimpse of me after I have been conditioned and trained as a pony at La Fort. We are of almost identical build - Norge of course is fitter and more muscle hardened - but in our nudity and appearance we are a matched pair and I know we are destined to run together in harness as our Master's ponies. The thought of this both repulses and thrills me. I still have my freeman's pride and I resent being used in this degrading manner. But the mental picture I have of me pulling alongside of Norge, matching his strength and stride, responding to the touch of our Master's whip on our asses is a powerfully erotic one and it excites me. And the thought of us spending our nights together, locked in the stables, adds to that excitement. My cock throbs with unrestrained abandon and is matched by Norge's own hard erection. My thoughts are interrupted by the voices of my Master, Guy Maratier and Cato as they cross the courtyard in our direction. "Well Master. What do you think of the new slave? Does he meet with your approval?" Cato asks anxiously. My Master is barely recognisable from the poorly dressed man of yesterday. Today he wears the expensive clothes that were so recently mine. He is fashionably dressed in casual gear and he has chosen to wear understated fawn, chino slacks and a plain blue, cotton shirt. Wisely he is without a jacket -no doubt a concession to the promised heat of the day. I have to admit he cuts an imposing figure with his strong physique highlighted by the tailored cut of his clothes. Bitterly I think of him now wearing my clothes while I'm condemned to perpetual nakedness. "Why, Cato. He's barely recognisable. "My new appearance surprises my Master. "STAND UP STRAIGHT! DON"T SLOUCH!" an angry Cato shouts at me, "DISPLAY! A slave always stands at display when in the presence of his Master. I'm sorry Master, for the slave's lack of respect. Do you wish me to cane him?" Cato's offer to punish me fills me with dread and I hurry to make amends. I straighten and tighten my body, thrust out my hips, bow my head respectfully and fearfully await my Master's decision. Thankfully, I hear him answer. "No I don't think so, Cato. I'm sure it was just an oversight more than a lack of respect. No doubt, as a new slave he's still learning. But I must say you have done a great job in preparing him. Viewed alongside the pony it's hard to tell them apart. Almost identical bodies, the only difference is in their hair colour. The pony's hair is fairer, perhaps? But otherwise, they are a perfect match. Why, even their cocks are similar and I like the way they dance in unison with one another. Quite impressive." "Thank you, Master. Yes I think the two slaves complement each other. As you say they are almost identical even down to their cocks. Of course the new slave still retains his skin. Is that to removed, Master?" "Most definitely, Cato. It's only a matter of timing. Do I have him skinned here in town or do I wait until he goes out to La Fort? What are your thoughts on this, Cato?" "Well Master, I suppose it all depends. Skinning a slave can incapacitate him and keep him out of action for a few days as he recovers so you would lose valuable time if it is done out at the plantation. And of course, there's always the risk of infection out at La Fort. On the other hand, if he's done whilst in town, I could keep him gainfully employed with light duties and keep an eye on his healing at the same time." I am appalled as I overhear my Master's discussion with Cato. As they casually talk together about my skinning it is as though I don't exist. My presence is ignored and I feel their disdain. But one thing is clear to me; I am to be circumcised and done soon. I tremble at this awful prospect. "You make a good point, Cato. Perhaps we should arrange to have him done within the next couple of days. Can you organise it?" "Certainly, Master. I'll contact the vet this morning and have him call as soon as possible." "I've not seen a skinning, Cato. I suppose they're messy and painful?" "Only for the slave, Master." Cato laughs, "But yes! They are messy and judging by the slaves' re-actions they are painful; they kick and scream and beg not to be done. But the vets ignore them and quickly get on with the job. Afterwards, the slave is a bit sick and sorry for himself but he soon recovers. And we've never lost a slave to infection." "Very well, Cato. I'll leave it to you to organise and perhaps you could ask the vet to attend to it as a matter of priority?" "Yes Master. One thing I'm sure the vet will ask is if you want it done with the knife or by one of the newer procedures?" "I don't follow, Cato? I thought there was only one method." "No Master. The traditional method for skinning a slave is with the scalpel. It's painful for the slave but is quickly finished and then the slave is left to heal naturally. But there are other, newer devices that fit over the slave's cock and slowly strangle the foreskin which usually drops off after ten or twelve days. This second method is becoming more popular with some owners, Master." "I see. I suppose the newer devices are less traumatic for the slave, is that so Cato?" "Yes Master, but the slave's discomfort shouldn't be a consideration. It's really a matter of which method you prefer, Master." "Very well, Cato. I'll discuss it with the vet when he comes. I'll be guided by his recommendation." So there are two options for my skinning and the one that fills me with terror is the scalpel. As a former Master, I had witnessed several slaves endure the agony of their circumcisions and their suffering had left me unmoved. The traditional method of skinning a Barrois slave had always been with the knife and after my grandfather's death I continued with this practice. I am -or I should say was -very traditional and hadn't seen any reason to abandon a long held custom in favour of the more humane methods of circumcision. Now my own suffering depends very much on the outcome of the vet's advice to my Master. I know nothing will spare me from my circumcision but I fervently hope to be spared the scalpel. "Master, it's your intention to pair the new slave with your pony. Is that correct?" "Yes Cato. What do you think?" "Master, I think the new slave will make an excellent pony after he's been trained for it. Your current pony and the new slave running in tandem should turn many heads. People will be envious of you. But what do you want me to do with the slave today?" "I think a day on the wood-heap will ease him into his slave duties and perhaps demonstrate his new status to him. You will perhaps need to appoint an overseer to ensure he works to his full capacity; to encourage him when he flags." Very well Master. I have another slave in mind to watch over him. If I equip this slave with a light whip does he have your permission to use it on Rafe?" "As long as he doesn't damage Rafe or break his skin. And I don't want him unnecessarily whipped. He's to use the whip only as encouragement. I will examine Rafe when I return and if I suspect that his overseer has been overzealous in using the whip then he himself will be punished. You'll need to impress that upon him" "Yes Master." "And by the way Cato. At the end of the day, I want Rafe cleaned up and made ready for household duties. Tonight, he's to serve in the dining-room as a waiter. My grandmother will be dining with me tonight and I know she is very keen to meet Rafe." My heart sinks at this; finally I'm to meet my distant relative, Charlotte Maratier but under very unusual circumstances. She is to be a guest in my Master's house and I'm to serve them as a waiter in the dining-room. Quickly I go over in my mind the duties of a waiter. I'd never really paid the waiters any attention as they'd served me. They'd always just "been there" anticipating my every need and moving quickly to accommodate me. Tonight, it will be me who'll need to anticipate and move quickly. I wonder about the woman who is my late grandfather's only surviving sibling; and the last to have borne the Barrois name. I'm no longer a member of the Barrois family - it has ceased to exist; that name was taken away from me upon my enslavement and replaced with my slave name, Rafe. The fact that I have Barrois blood flowing in my veins is negated by the tainted blood of my slave mother. Conceived out of a Henri Barrois' lust for a slave woman, I was born a slave and I have now been returned to my rightful place and the thought of coming face to face with the woman who orchestrated my downfall is daunting. But even more daunting is the thought that I must appear naked before her. As though he is reading my thoughts, Cato hesitatingly broaches the subject to our Master. "Master, may I ask a question?" "Of course, Cato. What's your question?" "Master, with your grandmother coming to stay, how do you want the slaves to be presented to their Mistress?" "I don't follow, Cato. What do you mean?" "Well Master, as you know all the house slaves are kept naked. Should they be clothed as a mark of respect to the Mistress?" "Ah! I see what you mean, Cato. Good man, I hadn't thought of it. My grandmother is, as you would realise, elderly and she is certainly unused to being served by naked, male slaves. What do you suggest Cato?" "I'm concerned that the Mistress not be confronted by any untoward displays, Master. Some of the younger slaves put on quite vigorous showings throughout the day - acceptable in an all-male household but totally inappropriate in the presence of a refined lady. Could I suggest we put them into loincloths for the duration of Mistress' visit?" "That's an excellent suggestion, Cato. Can I leave you to organise it? Do we have loincloths?" "Yes we do, Master. We have quite a wardrobe of them in different colours and styles. The former mistress always insisted that the house-slaves were covered when she entertained her lady friends. Shall I arrange it, Master?" "Yes please do, Cato. I can see that your service and advice to your former Masters would have been invaluable to them." "Thank you, Master. I live only to serve my Master, whoever he may be." "Good man, Cato," my Master replies and then glancing at his watch - the one that had been taken from me in the courtroom yesterday and given to him - he adds, "but I must be off. I have to meet Mr Barrow in town. I'll leave everything in your capable hands. You have made arrangements for Madame Maratier's arrival haven't you, Cato?" "Yes Master. You need not worry. I'll attend to the Mistress' needs myself." "Good! Oh, one more thing, Cato. Do we have a branding iron on the premises?" "Yes Master. But it is the old Barrois brand. Do you want to see it?" "Yes please." As Cato dispatches the groom off to the stables to fetch the branding iron, I wonder is my Master preparing to brand me. It's inevitable that I will be branded - I know this - after all the other slaves wear the brand on their chests just above their right nipples. So why wouldn't I be similarly branded? "I'm having a new brand made, Cato. It's to show the change of ownership from the Barrois name to the Maratier name. Basically, it will remain the same brand except that the B will be replaced with an M. I'll call into an ironmongers today and leave the old iron with him as an example of what I want." "Master, are all your slaves to be rebranded?" Cato's asks apprehensively knowing that he too would face the branding iron should our Master decide to re-badge his slaves. "I'm undecided as yet, Cato. I'll let you know when I've made up my mind. But Rafe will be branded as soon as the new iron is ready. He'll be the first of my slaves to wear the Maratier brand. It'll be a case of a new brand for a new slave." My stomach constricts as I overhear this conversation. I accept the inevitability of my second branding and I know nothing can save me from its ordeal. It is customary for Masters to put their ownership marks on their animals and slaves. But the still painful throbbing at the site of yesterday's branding and the realisation that I will once more be strapped down on to a branding table terrifies me. My body trembles, my breathing accelerates and my cock wilts at the very thought of this new, red-hot branding iron that awaits me. Twice within the space of a few minutes I've listened as my Master and his steward dispassionately discussed his plans for me. I have heard that within the next two days or so I'm to be skinned and branded. The groom returns and hands the grim instrument of torture to Cato who, in turn, passes it onto my Master now ready to take his leave of us. Cato nods to the groom to assist his Master into the cart, and to untether Norge. Once settled into his seat, my Master snaps his whip against Norge's shoulders and commands him to. "WALK ON!" Dutifully, Norge moves forward out of the yard and into the street; once there he is ordered to quicken his pace as his driver applies the whip to his ass. Even though they are out of my sight, I hear the rattle of the carts wheels and the pounding of its pony's feet fading into the distance. Norge's day of labour has begun; mine is about to commence. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The enormity of the task assigned to me is overwhelming. Confronting me is a pile of logs that tower over me and I have been told by Cato that my Master has ordered me to split them to a manageable size for use in the house's heating system. The house is a very old one and has been modernised many times over the years. One thing that has never changed however, is the antiquated heating system designed for our mild climate. This heating was installed when the house was built and is a hydrocaust or underfloor form of heating which requires a large wood-burning furnace to keep it operating. This furnace has an insatiable appetite for fuel and it is necessary to bring several loads of firewood in from La Fort each year. Parts of La Fort are as yet uncleared of timber and there is an ongoing program of tree felling to allow for the sowing of more crops. These felled trees help supply the firewood for the furnace. To keep the system operating, it's necessary for one the maintenance slaves to be constantly in attendance to feed the furnace ensuring that the house is kept comfortably warm and that the subsidiary steam room, heated spa and pool are always available for use. I know the slaves hate this job. It is constant, dirty and very uncomfortably hot. The furnace-room overheats with an almost sauna like heat and the duty slave is perpetually bathed in sweat. I had ventured into this area of the house on occasions and was always aroused as I watched the duty slave, naked, grimy and sweating, going about his duties. But I never stayed long; I always found the overpowering heat to be unbearable. As their Master, I had made one concession to the slaves. Each of the six outdoor slaves was made to take his turn stoking the furnace working for one full day and then returning to outdoor duties for the next five days. This way their discomfort was shared by all six slaves. What could be fairer than that I had thought at the time I'd made that decision? Now it is my job to ensure the fuel required to feed the hungry furnace is readily available and of the correct size. During the morning, my axe has grown heavier and at times my energy flags. But standing behind me is a temporary overseer, a fellow slave by the name of Marv. He is armed with a leather quirt and he has my Master's permission to use it on me should I slacken off. He is enthusiastic in its use and several times already I have felt its irritating sting on my shoulders and back - Cato had warned him my ass is off limits for obvious reasons and I think Marv is disappointed with this restriction. Marv has little reason to spare me. After all what slave wouldn't enjoy being in his position. He has control of the man who just twenty-four hours ago had been his Master. Marv is a beautiful slave. I'd seen him at the slave-dealers during one of many visits to inspect what was on offer. I was drawn to Marv by his strong body, good looks, his bubble butted ass and his prodigious genitalia. Subsequently, I'd gone to the auction when he was put up for sale and bought him. But he was to be a troublesome slave. He'd been given the usual introductory caning as part of his induction into the household but this hadn't curbed him. He proved to be argumentative and prone to answering back. This had angered Cato but even his cane proved ineffective against the slave's intransigence. Another bad trait he'd developed was that of bullying the other slaves. I'd caught him fighting with another slave on a number of occasions and I had sent him to Cato for further caning. Each punishment session with Cato grew longer as the number of cane strokes was increased. This did quieten him down a little, but he remained resentful and surly and after talking with Cato, I decided to cut my losses and send him to a specific dealership that dealt with unruly or rebellious slaves by selling them to the mines and quarries. My decision brought about a remarkable change in his attitude. Fearful of the quarries and mines, he'd fallen to his knees in front of me and begged not to be sold. He promised to behave himself and to be a good slave. As I looked down at him on hands and knees before me, I'd relented and told him I would keep him on the condition that he behaved himself and obeyed all orders given to him immediately and without question. Tearfully, he'd agreed and kissed my feet in gratitude. I'd never used him sexually even though I'd wanted to; his behaviour was always too uncertain. But that night, I took him into my bed and fucked him hard. I sensed his shame and resentment at my use of him but that just added to my pleasure. After that night, I ordered him back into my bed several more times and always noted the barely concealed anger in his eyes. However, his fear of the mines tempered his disposition and made him submissive to my needs. But instinctively, I knew he harboured resentment and perhaps even hatred at my use of his slave body. Now he stands behind me and holds the whip-hand. My day is too prove long and hard as I toil relentlessly beneath a cloudless, blue sky and the blazingly hot sun. I can expect little sympathy from Marv. The pile of wood looms large over me, my axe rises and falls in an endless succession of arcs, my body screams for rest and my throat is dry with thirst. I have just had my allowance of water and must wait a lifetime for my next drink. And whenever I think I have reached the limits of my endurance and can go no further, I feel the encouraging sting of Marv's whip on my sun tortured back and I hear my cry of pain. His whip causes me to draw on hidden reserves of strength and energy and I continue with my labours. I don't know for how long I've been toiling, but the sun's position tells me it's not yet midday. The day still has a long distance to run. To be continued................. You can read the Jean-Christophe stories by joining his archive group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

DUPED Chapter 5: The Kasbah This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): November, 2012 Read all my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and events in this story are purely fictitious and belong to the writer. They shouldn't be used without his permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures." The old quarter of the city is certainly medieval in its appearance. The tall buildings, which overhang the narrow alleyways turning them into canyons of deep shade, belong to a long bygone era. How easy it is to imagine that one has been transported back through time to an earlier period of history. The crowded streets - and really do they qualify as such - are a bewildering maze of twisting, narrow alleyways and cul-de-sacs which are only suitable for foot traffic. No cars can drive here; although one does pass the occasional merchant leading a heavily laden donkey to his shop in one of the many souks and bazaars which abound in this part of the "old city". My sensory perceptions are in overload. My eyes struggle to take in the many activities, colours and movements that surround me and my nose is assailed by the rich scents of jasmine, citrus, sandalwood and other exotic spices. I watch as leather tradesmen work at their benches and carpet-weavers at their looms; the smell of freshly tanned leather and jute add to the exotic potpourri that assails my olfactory senses. The babble of merchants' voices - all vying to attract the buyers' attention - adds to the cacophony of sound around me. All this is strange to my westernized ears and I'm unable to make sense of what is being said. The stalls seem to be groaning under the weight of the merchants' goods. Everywhere I look, I see strange and wonderful things so unlike anything I am accustomed to back in London. From what I can see it is possible to buy anything here ranging from pottery, metalware, leather goods, colourfully woven carpets and a wide range of foods, sweetmeats, spices, fruits and vegetables. And somewhere among this astounding array of merchandise it is possible to purchase something far more exotic and unusual. I refer to the secretive trading of chattel slaves. Today, Anwar is escorting me to a slave-market where he is to meet his good friend, Mustapha to check on his six waiters who are to be sold at auction next Saturday. I walk with Anwar through the narrow, winding streets of this mysterious, Middle-Eastern city to an area known only to the locals. Here, tucked away in a discreet building is the local slave-market. Anwar has invited me to accompany him as he views the newly acquired slaves who are to be sold on Saturday. Anwar tells me that I am to be present at the auction as his "honoured guest" and witness as they are sold along with Mustapha's six waiter slaves. I'd been excited at the prospect of actually visiting a real slave-market, at viewing the naked, displayed slaves and watching as they stand on the auction-block. Such scenes have fuelled my erotic fantasies for years. But now that fantasy is about to become reality, I'm not so sure. My emotions are mixed. There is a sense of excitement on my part that I am to see real, honest to goodness slaves made ready for auction and yet there is also a degree of apprehension that genuine, chattel slavery really does exist and flourishes here. Anwar has told me the slaves offered for sale on Saturday will be eagerly sought after among buyers from the Middle-East and Black Africa. Without exception, the day's offering will be young, white, Caucasian male slaves; most have been enslaved very recently but others like Mustapha's six slaves have been enslaved for varying lengths of time. Why do I feel apprehensive? Well, I know I meet the criteria of the slaves incarcerated in the holding-pens waiting to be sold. I am young, white and no doubt I would be considered excellent slave material by an Arab slave-trader. And is it my imagination but are people staring at me as Anwar leads me through the tortuous maze of back alleyways to the slave-market. Do they see Anwar as a master delivering his white slave to be sold? Suddenly, I feel a shiver run through my spine and I am touched by the cold, clammy hand of fear. It's hard to say whether that fear is justified or just the product of my feverish, overworked imagination. Nevertheless, it is real and suddenly, I am concerned for my safety. What foolhardiness has brought me here to this place? Why have I allowed myself to be talked into accompanying Anwar to Maluchistan? With the wisdom of hindsight, I now wonder if this was a grave error of judgement on my part. It would be so easy for me, as a stranger and a foreigner, to become lost in the twisting, tortuous maze of narrow walkways and alleys in this part of the Kasbah. But Anwar knows precisely where he is leading me and eventually we leave the hurly-burly of the souks behind us. We turn into a narrow street of what looks like empty buildings and workshops. Strangely, the street is deserted and the silence is ominous. Once more, I become apprehensive and if I knew my way back to my hotel I would certainly "turn tail and run". But I have no idea of where I am and I consider it would be unsafe for me to try and find my way back to the hotel alone and on foot. And I tell myself that I am being stupid and worrying unnecessarily. After all, Anwar is my friend and business colleague and he'll look to my safety. No, my worries are prompted with the unfamiliarity of these new surroundings. This buoys my spirits and I think that somewhere close by are the slave pens where Mustapha's six slaves are incarcerated and are being made ready for Saturday's auction. Despite my abhorrence that real chattel slavery really does exist, I am secretly looking forward to Saturday when I will be present to see a genuine slave auction. Anwar walks to the end of the cul-de-sac and raps loudly on a stout wooden door. Someone on the inside of the door opens a small grill at face height and peers out at us. Anwar speaks - in Arabic - and he receives the traditional, Arabic greeting in return. The grill is closed and I hear the sound of the heavy door being unbolted. It swings open giving Anwar an me just enough room to enter before it closes with an ominous bang followed by the metallic scraping sound of the bolt locking us in. I look around and I am disappointed. We are in a small, cobblestoned courtyard which obviously serves as the point of entry to other parts of the building; around the perimeter there are other doors leading to - well, I don't know to where. I'm not sure what I expected but this courtyard is so ordinary in its appearance that I am disappointed. There is nothing here that suggests this is a slave-market. It could be the interior to a private home and I wonder if perhaps Anwar is making a visit to a relative or friend before we continue on to the slave-pens. A door opens in a far wall, and a tall, middle-aged Arab in traditional robes hurries forward to welcome Anwar, They embrace and exchange the customary greetings and then Anwar introduces me. "Matt, allow me to introduce you to one of my oldest friends, Malik. Malik, this is the young lawyer from London I mentioned to you on the phone last night." Malik greets me diffidently - but I attribute this to the natural Arab reserve when meeting a Westerner for the first time - and really I am flattered that Anwar has spoken about me to Malik. How stupid of me to be concerned. Obviously, Anwar holds me in high regard otherwise why would he mention me to his friends. "Malik, Matt is one of my business associates and he has a prurient interest in slavery. However, he struggles to believe real slavery exists at all. I have assured him that it does and with your good graces I would like to prove it to him. With your indulgence, I would like my young friend to experience first-hand your slave holding pens and the actual auction-room." "You pay me great honour, Anwar. And it would be my pleasure to allow you to view my humble premises and exhibit my livestock for your perusal. But first allow me to offer you my hospitality. Will you and Matt share sherbet with me?" "We'd be honoured to do so, Malik." Malik claps his hands three times and a door opens in a wall behind him. As I watch, a young white man, naked save for the flimsiest of loincloths, hurries forward and falls to the floor at Malik's feet. I fancy I am a connoisseur of the perfect, male form and one of my greatest pleasures is to sit in a London park or eat my lunch in a food-mall and watch the passing parade of young men walking by. My attention is focused on them and in my fertile imagination; I salaciously strip them naked. It has to be said that I truly love full, male nudity. Yet there is something about the loincloth this young man - who is obviously a slave judging by the collar he wears around his neck - wears that adds to his allure. Somehow, his covering gives him an "air of mystery". It hides everything but suggests much. Quite clearly, I can see the outline of his genitalia and the sweeping curves of his ass outlined through the flimsy material that clings to him like a second skin. This centres my lust on him and because everything is "hidden", I have this desperate urge to reach out and tear the loincloth from him thus exposing his total nudity to my view. His presence is disconcerting! But why should I be surprised? I mean I'm not altogether a stranger to being in the company of real slaves; back in London I'd spent many hours being served by Anwar's slave, Sven and I'd become a frequent diner at Mustapha's restaurant where I'd watched his slaves working as waiters. But I suppose it is the unexpectedness of seeing this latest slave. Somehow, seeing him in this Middle Eastern environment does bring home to me that Anwar is correct. Chattel slavery really does exist in this oil-rich, desert nation! Malik orders the slave to his feet; he stands subserviently with his feet apart, his hands clasped behind his back resting on his ass and with his head bowed in humility. I have the opportunity to survey the slave. I guess he is in his mid-twenties and the proportions of his hairless body are in perfect harmony. I can't see the colour of his eyes which are lowered to the ground but his cropped hair is thick and black suggesting that it naturally curly. I watch the rise and fall of his chest and the in-out bellowing of his abdomen as he breathes. His loincloth does little to hide his natural endowments. I see the outline of his cock and balls showing suggestively through the almost gauze-like material of his garment. And his covering certainly doesn't conceal the delightful curves of his shapely ass. He is olive skinned hinting at his Mediterranean origins and I am quite smitten by him. I'm unaware that both Anwar and Malik are observing me silently salivating over the slave's masculine beauty. Malik speaks to me. "I see that my slave interests you, Matt! He is quite delightful isn't he?" Embarrassingly, I've been caught out and in my confusion, I manage to blurt out. "So he's a slave? He's an honest to goodness slave?" "But of course Matt! But he is just one of many that I have in my pens as you'll soon see when you enter further into my humble establishment. Emboldened by Malik's reply I ask, "How long has he been a slave?" "I've had him for twelve months. He came to me in a shipment from Spain about this time last year. He should have been sold with his fellows at that time but I was quite smitten by him and decided to keep him - well at least temporarily. I never keep a slave for my personal use any longer than a year. After that, I grow tired of him and I'm looking for a newer, fresher boy to replace him and so the slave is sold on." "Will that happen to this slave, Malik? Will you sell him?" "But of course, Matt!" Malik laughs. "This slave is to be sold on Saturday. Already, I have clients wanting to buy him. He has generated much interest among my esteemed clients. There's a particular client who I know will bid strongly for him." "Can I ask, Malik? Is that client from the Middle East?" "No Matt! The client I speak of is an African. He's a very wealthy man; an oil billionaire from one of the emerging African countries. However, my clients come from many places; the Middle East, Africa and Asia and even some from Europe. They're an eclectic mix!" "Africans buy slaves?" The tone of my question reflects my incredulity and causes both Anwar and Malik to laugh. "Indeed they do. They are among my most enthusiastic buyers and they have unlimited amounts of capital to invest in a slave. Of course, their keenness in the bidding process does drive up the prices for the slaves. But I'm certainly not complaining about that. However some of my less wealthy clients resent them their unlimited sums to spend on buying a slave." "I never knew that! But then until I met Anwar, I never knew that real slavery still existed." "Indeed it does Matt! But then, it never really went away. It has always been present but just well hidden away from prying eyes." "I find that incredible! That slavery is practised but remains virtually unknown to the world." "Why would you think that, Matt? Slavery is so much a part of the human condition. It stretches way back into antiquity; back to the very beginning of recorded history - and no doubt it existed long before men could write. Matt there are those who, for their own reasons, want to own and control another man - or woman. That's indisputable! And you can't legislate against that. No, when slavery was outlawed by the do-gooders and meddlesome fools in the West it didn't abolish it. It only forced it to go underground. There it still flourishes as you'll soon see." "What will happen to this slave if the African buys him?" "The same as happens to all young, white, male slaves I should think, Matt. He'll become his new master's pet. Africans owners can be flamboyant. I'm sure you're familiar with the images of their kings and chieftains leading a pet cheetah around on a leash or lying at their feet to impress their visitors. They no longer use cheetahs; they now have a preference to flaunt a well-set up, heavily hung, white slave on a leash. I am correct, am I not, Anwar?" "Indeed you are, Malik! Matt, For an African to own a white slave it is a status symbol. It's very much the `in thing' for a noveau riche African business man to own a white slave. In fact it's de rigeur for them to do so. Possibly this has something to do with their history when so many of their ancestors were enslaved? Perhaps they see the ownership of a white slave as `turning the tables' on whites so to speak? But who really knows?" "But enough idle chatter, Matt. I believe you'd like to see the slave in his natural state. Remove your covering slave and stand at full display!" Malik commands the slave. Immediately, the slave removes his covering and in one fluid movement it falls to the ground at his feet. I watch as he moves his feet apart and entwines his finger behind his head. This has the effect of tightening his body and throwing his impressive physique into sharp relief. The slave is perfection - sheer perfection. His smooth, muscular body is hairless and, in keeping with what I'd seen with Anwar's slave, Sven, even his pubes has been removed. I'd always thought the removal of Sven's pubes added to his slave like status; somehow it robbed him of his "badge of manhood" and reduced his masculinity in my eyes. I'd seen Sven as an object and not as a man. And it is the same with this slave. "Please Matt! Do me the honour of examining my slave. Feel free to inspect him." How can I refuse Malik's kind invitation? I step forward and place my hands on the slave's body. As I do so I feel a slight shiver run through the slave. Is it fear or anticipation? Or perhaps it is a little of both? As I finger the slave, I'm overwhelmed by the experience. Here I am, in an honest-to-goodness slave-market hidden away in the Middle-East examining a real slave who is scheduled to be sold at auction within a few days. The slave is warm to the touch and as I place my hands on either side of his neck, I feel the rapid throbbing of his arteries. I move down over his chest and feel both the sharp intake of his breath and the beating of his heart. I pause and tease his generously sized nipples into needle-point sharpness. He looks at me and I see despair etched onto his face and the utter hopelessness of his situation buried deep within his tear filled eyes. I see reflected in this slave's sad face the suffering of the true slave! He is the modern day representative of all those countless victims who, throughout history, have suffered the cruel injustices and obscenities of chattel slavery. Momentarily, I am swamped with sympathy for the slave but I remind myself that I can do nothing to help him other than to hope he is bought by a kindly, new Master. However, as quickly as I'd felt sympathy for the slave's plight, it dissipates; I find that I relish the temporary power over him that his Master has given to me and I return to the enjoyment of inspecting his magnificent body. His pectorals are solid muscle and yet they are soft, warm and yielding to the touch. The ridged abdominals ripple as I insert a finger into the deep indent of his navel. Next, I inspect his genitals. I am so engrossed that I don't see Anwar and Malik watching me with great interest. More to the point, I don't see them as they exchange knowing smiles and telling glances. I am unaware that I am under their close scrutiny and that they are appraising me and my re-action to the slave. Next, I visually assess his genitals. His plump balls hang low and heavy between his thighs - I have always been partial to low-hangers - and one hangs slightly lower than its stable-mate. I reach out and take them into my cupped hand and I am delighted by both the weight and feel of them. His hairless scrotum is satiny-soft and pliable to the touch and as I gently roll each ball between my fingers, the slave rewards me with an incipient erection. I watch as his generous penis thickens and lengthens. He is circumcised and I recall Anwar telling me this is mandatory for all slaves. Anwar had said the first thing done to a new, uncircumcised slave is to remove his foreskin. I wonder if this slave had been cut at the time of his enslavement and I look to see if there is evidence of this. Sure enough, I examine his cock and I see the red, tell-tale ring of his operation encircling the thick shaft of his penis. I play with his erection. His cock is silky smooth - like his scrotum - and my hand glides up and down it length exciting both the slave and me. My own cock is massively erect and straining within the tight confines of my boxer shorts. I toy with the slave and I use a finger nail to gently tease his piss-slit. As I do so, I feel both the sharp intake of his breath and the quivering of his limbs. Eventually, he rewards me with a pearl-like drop of his precum glistening at the tip of his cock. I test its viscosity by rubbing it between my fingers and thumb and watch as a thin, grey-white thread dribbles slowly down to the ground. I'd dearly like to masturbate the slave but I hold myself in check. I'm unsure if Malik has given me permission to become so intimate with his slave and for me to do so could be seen as overstepping the bounds of his hospitality. So, as compensation, I tell the slave to turn with his back to me and I have to say the view from the rear is every bit as impressive as the one from the front. From behind, his torso is "V-shaped" with broad shoulders tapering down to a trim waist. With his hands still clasped behind his head, his biceps are bunched up into rounded balls of solid muscle and the muscles in his powerful back ripple with each nervous breath. I particularly like the way the indent of his back draws my attention to his small, curvaceous buttocks which rest atop his long muscular legs. And on either side of the spinal column, just above each buttock, is a most delightful dimple that adds to the slave's overall appeal. The ass-cheeks are small but well-rounded and I reach out and take one in each hand. As I gently squeeze them, I am surprised by their firmness; there is no evidence of any flab or softness in them. The well-defined dividing cleft invites my closer attention and I slip my exploratory finger into the slave's ass-crack feeling for his anus. Slowly, I use my finger to excite the puckering hole and the slave's audible gasp tells me that he is very responsive to my touch. "Matt, allow me to show you the best feature of my slave." Malik offers. "Slave, bend and spread and expose yourself fully to my guest's view!" Immediately, the slave does as his Master commands. He shuffles his feet further apart and bends at the waist while lowering his head level with his knees. Reaching behind, he takes an ass-cheek in each hand and stretches them as far apart as is anatomically possible. As the slave shamelessly displays himself, I am rewarded with a tantalizing glimpse of his striated, pink rosebud. The puckering of his sphincter betrays the slave's nervousness as, at the same time, it seems to be winking an invitation to me to explore it further. Naturally, I hesitate. After all, the slave is the property of my host, Malik; surely it would be bad manners for me to touch so intimate a part of his slave's body. But the urge for me to do so and to explore further is very strong and I must use my willpower to resist. Malik speaks and it is almost as though he is reading my thoughts. "Matt! Would you like to examine my slave more closely and to have the freedom to enter through his Golden Portal and to sample the delights of his inner body?" Malik's invitation - if indeed it is one - takes me by surprise. What exactly is he inviting me to do? Is he telling me that I can digitally explore the slave's ass? Or is he inviting me to have anal intercourse with the slave? I am uncertain and splutter out my reply. "I'm sorry, Malik! I don't quite know what you mean?" "Very simply, Matt, I'm asking if you'd like to use my slave. I can assure you of a most memorable experience. He's a most delightful fuck!" I look at the slave, bent double before me with his ass prominently on show, and I think - who wouldn't like to use him. I wonder what affect -if any - Malik's offer to me is having on the slave. Obviously, he hears our conversation but he's not a part of it and so he remains silent. Is he offended by his Master's offer to let me use him? I suppose he is used to such things. Who knows, perhaps he has been given to Malik's guests on numerous occasions. I recall, back in London, Anwar had told me that he sometimes "loans" Sven to his friends or business associates. I guess a slave's feelings are never considered at these times. Indeed, I remember Anwar had told me that he would consider it as ungracious and insulting for a guest in his home to not accept his generous offer of hospitality. Does that apply here, I wonder. The thought of having sex with this beautiful slave is naturally very appealing. But I am loath to performing it so publicly before Malik and Anwar. Surely, they don't require that of me. Or do they? Uncannily, Malik seems to be reading my mind and his next words put me at my ease. "Matt, should you wish to use my slave, you can make use of one of my test-rooms. There you will have complete privacy and no one to watch you." "I don't follow, Malik! What is a test-room?" "Matt, should one of my more esteemed clients desire to try a slave before he buys him, I always allow it. For this reason, I have set up a number of private rooms where these buyers can take any slave who interests them and give him a test run." "A test run, Malik?" "But of course, Matt! My more influential buyers expect no less. They need to know the slave they buy is suitable to their needs. What is that quaint quote you Westerners often use? Ah yes, - `never buy a pig in a poke'. These clients would never buy an untested slave. However, it's a courtesy I extend to just a few of my special clients and not to everyone. The other buyers must take their chances in the open marketplace. Again, I believe you have a legal ruling which places the responsibility on the buyer to ensure he buys correctly. You as a lawyer would know to what I am referring, Matt." "Malik, I think what you are referring to is - `caveat emptor - let the buyer beware!" "That's precisely it, Matt! However, because you are an associate of my good friend, Anwar, I see you as an honoured guest in my household and I offer you the services of my slave. That is if you are up to it? What do you say Matt?" The double entendre of Malik's words isn't lost on me; I interpret his words as a challenge and it's a challenge I am more than happy to accept. I mean, just looking at the slave's delectable, upturned ass has me fired up. My cock is as hard as it has ever been - and dribbling - and I can hardly contain myself. Spending time alone with the slave in a "test-room" has great appeal. Still, I mustn't appear too eager as I accept Malik's generous offer of hospitality. "Thank you Malik for your kind offer! It's most generous of you and it would be churlish of me to refuse. I gratefully accept!" "Then I will have my slave take you to a test-room where you can use him at your leisure. Take your time Matt! Relax and enjoy the delights of the slave's body. And while you do that, Anwar and I will take refreshments and talk business. I believe we'll soon be joined by Mustapha and his son Hussein to check on their six slaves. We'll wait until you have finished using my slave and then we'll take you to the slave-pens where you can become better acquainted with the rest of my livestock." I find Malik's description of his slaves as "livestock" a little disconcerting. True they are slaves; however, to hear him reduce them to the level of beasts and to be spoken of so contemptuously denies them any shred of humanity. How glad I am that I'm not a slave! And to emphasize his contempt, Malik slaps the slave's ass twice and orders him to stand at display. "Slave, you will conduct my young guest to a test-room and there you will make your body available for his use. Do you understand what I'm saying to you?" "Yes Master!' The slave replies in heavily accented English. "Your slave hears and obeys." This is the first time the slave has spoken and I recognize his accent as Spanish. "Then, let's be away with you! And make sure my guest has no complaints about you." Then Malik adds. "Oh, by the way Matt, please feel free to make full use of my slave. But I ask one thing of you." "What is that, Malik?" "Please make sure that he isn't damaged in any way. Please remember he is to be sold on Saturday and I don't want his body marked or bruised. I'm sure I can rely on your co-operation, Matt?" "But of course, Malik! It goes without saying that I will respect your property and I'll not abuse him in any way." "Then Matt, go with my slave to a test-room. He knows the way as he has been there several times in recent days with one or two of my clients. And when you have done with him, he'll bring you to Anwar and me. Please Matt, enjoy your time with my slave and I can assure you of a surprise." "Thank you, Malik! You are a most gracious host." The slave leads me through a door into a large, luxuriously appointed room. Its dcor is Middle- eastern - almost with a decadent air - and no expense has been spared in fitting it out. The floor is covered in a thick, plush carpet and placed randomly throughout the room are divans and armchairs grouped around exquisitely hand carved tables. At one end of the room is a raised platform with a catwalk leading away from it which runs almost full length down the middle of the room between the seats and tables. I am reminded of the models' catwalk used for fashion displays in the haute couture salons of Paris or Rome and I wonder about their purpose. "Tell me slave! Do you have a name by which I can call you?" "Sir, I am a slave. No one calls me by my name anymore. I answer to `slave' or `boy' - whichever you prefer, Sir." "I would still like to know your name. What were you called before you became a slave?" Sir! My name was Miguel, Sir!" "Then tell me Miguel, what is the purpose of this room?" "Why Sir, this is the display room where my Master exhibits his most highly prized slaves to his most esteemed clients." Miguel's answer embarrasses me. The room's purpose should have been obvious to me. "Miguel, have you been displayed in this room?" "I have been in this room many times, Sir! And when I wasn't standing on the display podium, I served my Master and his guests their refreshments as they viewed other slaves who were being displayed." "Tell me Miguel, how did you become a slave?" "Sir, I was befriended by an Arab who betrayed me and I found myself brought here to be sold." There is bitterness in Miguel's words. "But my Master took a liking to me and he kept me. However, I am to be sold at Saturday's auction. Already, I have been inspected by several Masters who wish to own me." Miguel's words sound a warning to me and suddenly, I am afraid. The distressing circumstances of his enslavement aren't unlike my own current situation. Like him, I have been befriended by an Arab - in my case by Anwar - and he's brought me to Maluchistan ostensibly on business. True, there are similarities between Miguel's situation and my own but I wasn't lured here; I came willingly on a business trip with Anwar. And he is my friend? Still, Miguel's story does leave me with a feeling of disquiet. Miguel directs me across the room and opens a door into a smaller, private room equally as luxurious as the display room. However, the furnishings are minimal and consist of a bed, a cupboard and bench obviously meant for clothing. The room opens into a small, ornately tiled, ensuite bathroom consisting of a shower, toilet and hand-basin. Miguel closes the door behind us and we are alone in the test-room. Miguel asks respectfully for my instructions. "Does Sir want me to undress him?" I look at Miguel and I feel my lust rising like an impending volcanic eruption. But all I can manage to say in reply is a very gruff. "YES!!" Miguel moves over to stand just inches away from me. Slowly, he unbuttons my shirt and slips it from my upper body. I watch as he neatly folds it and places it on the bench. Then he kneels before me and removes my shoes and socks He reaches up and unbuckles my belt and removes it from its trouser lugs. He coils it and places it with my shoes. From his kneeling position, he looks up at me and as I gaze down on him, he averts his eyes almost guiltily. I attribute this to the sense of shame that he must be feeling at having to undress me and then surrender his body to me. He stands and now my naked chest is touching his nakedness. The touch of his body is electric and my cock aches for urgent release. Deliberately, he unbuttons my slacks at the waistband and slowly - almost provocatively - he unzips my fly. I feel my trouser slide sensuously down my legs into a crumpled heap around my ankles. The slave kneels and lifts each of my feet freeing my trousers and I am left standing in just my boxer shorts. As Miguel stands to fold my trousers and place them with my other clothing, I am acutely aware of the massive tent pole straining at the front of my one remaining item of clothing. Once more the slave kneels before me and hooks a finger into the elastic- waistband of my boxer shorts on either side of my waist. Slowly, seductively, he slides them down over my hips until my rampant cock breaks free from its prison and I stand naked before him. Miguel reaches out and cradles my balls in the cup of one hand while he uses the other to test the hardness and vigour of my erection. Very deliberately, he teases my glans until my legs tremble and my knees buckle ever so slightly. The slave is seducing me and I am helpless to resist his advances. I am putty in his hands. He inclines his head and gently kisses the head of my cock and flicks his tongue against my piss-slit. He positions my cock in such a way that he is able to delicately run the moist, warm tip of his tongue up and down its sensitive underside. The myriad, penile nerve ends are rudely awakened and energized by his tongue-play. This slave elevates me to levels of pleasure I've not known before and soon I hear my soft moaning as my body writhes under the exquisite, sexual torture which Miguel is inflicting upon me. My need grows ever more urgent! I need to fuck this beguiling slave. "Miguel," my voice is hoarse with my mounting passion, "I need to fuck you!" "Certainly, Sir, I will make myself ready." From somewhere - I don't know where and it's not important - Miguel produces an ornamental phial of lubricant. He stands before me and using a forefinger he scoops a glob of the gel, and reaching behind, he inserts the finger into his ass preparing it for my entry. Miguel turns even this simple, basic act into a display of highly-charged eroticism. It seems to me that he is "riding" his finger; sensuously he alternates between slow gyrations of his hips and thrusting them forward in a most suggestive way. This brings into erotic play the rippling and flexing of his sharply, delineated abdominal muscles and his heavily veined cock proudly stands out at right-angles to his belly. He looks at me with "come hither" eyes and he uses the tip of his tongue to lick his lips lasciviously. His manner is highly seductive and obviously, he is taking his Master's words to heart and is working very hard to please me. For my part, I stand slack-mouthed and watch as though I am entranced. Eventually, Miguel stops and then prepares me by slicking my cock with the lubricant. He turns even this into an act of foreplay as he slowly massages my cock making it even harder - if that is possible. Then he asks. "Sir, how do you wish to fuck me? Do you want me on my back? Or does Sir prefer me on all fours?" For some reason, I want to look into Miguel's face as I plough his ass; I want to see the reaction in his eyes as I sexually use him. What will I see there? Will his eyes reflect his shame and helpless as a slave or will they mirror his pleasure or pain? I'm not sure in my mind why I need to do this. Perhaps I need to witness my power as a free man over him. I have use of him courtesy of his Master; whereas he is just a slave loaned to me by his Master and commanded by him to submit to me and to please me. "I'll take you on your back, Miguel!" The slave lies on his back on the silken covered bed and I take a few moments to savour the sight of him. He lifts his legs high which scrunches his abdominals into taut ridges of hard muscle. He places his hands under his head tightening his well-defined pectoral muscles and exposing his hairless armpits to my view. His curvaceous ass is elevated and with his legs spread wide, his puckering sphincter beckons me. What was the name that Malik had given to it? He'd referred to it as the slave's "Golden Portal". The term is perhaps poetic - and flowery - and yet the quivering striations surrounding his bright pink rosebud remind me of the unfurling petals of a flower. I can contain myself no longer; my balls ache for release and my errant cock takes control of me. I position myself at the slave's ass and taking my cock in my hand, I place its head against the soft, yielding flesh of his anus and momentarily hesitate. Then I push to enter; gently at first as I have no wish to hurt the slave. I feel the relaxation of his sphincter muscles and I affect an easy entry. I look down onto the beautiful, nude body of the slave lying before me and savour the sight. I smile at Miguel and he smiles back at me. HIs smile is enigmatic; almost as though he is harbouring a secret and this puzzles me. However, my cock rules my emotions - and my thoughts - and I have just one thing on my mind. And that is to fuck this slave who has been generously loaned to me by his Master and to fully savour the experience. Eagerly, I lunge forward and enter wholly into the slave. My cock is gripped in a tight, encircling embrace as the slave's anal muscles take hold and raise me to new heights of pleasure. I am oblivious to all around me and I don't hear the door opening behind me. Suddenly, rough hands seize my shoulders and I am rudely torn from Miguel and I struggle in the firm grasp of two, burly Arabs whom I'd not seen enter the room. The surprise of this shocks me and renders me defenceless. At first, I am uncomprehending but gradually my shock gives way to outrage as I struggle uselessly between my two captors. However, I am no match for their brute strength and my struggles are futile. Then, from somewhere behind me, I hear laughter. I turn my head and I see Anwar and Malik followed by Mustapha and his son Hussein. Mustapha is the first to speak. "Anwar, my dear friend, nobly caught! Now, I think it's time to reel in your catch and to net him!" The meaning of Mustapha's words is lost on me. However, my relief at seeing Anwar is overwhelming and I appeal to him. "Anwar, what the fuck's goin.......... " Unexpectedly, my words are cut short as Anwar angrily strides over to where I am restrained and viciously slaps my face with teeth-rattling force. His face is just inches form my own as he hisses. "Silence, slave! How dare you speak to your Master without his permission? Maintain a respectful silence!" Anwar has just told me that I am his slave! Suddenly, the implication of his words hit home and with horrible clarity I recognize the truth of his words. Anwar has betrayed our friendship - if indeed it ever existed. He has lured me here and enslaved me. His next words confirm this. "Malik, allow me to compliment you for the part your slave played in seducing and ensnaring this foolish, young Franj! Your slave played the part of the Honey Trap most admirably in luring my new slave to sample the delights of his body." It would appear that Miguel was used first to beguile me and then to lull me into a false sense of security before rendering me naked and helpless for entrapment by Anwar and Malik. With the wisdom of hindsight, I now see that I have acted unwisely in allowing Anwar to seduce me by his "friendship" and to bolster my ego with his praise for my business acumen. What a fool I have been. I bitterly resent Miguel and the part he played in my seduction and enslavement. But realistically, I can't altogether blame him. Obviously, he was carrying out his Master's instructions and most likely he was under the threat of some dire punishment should he fail. Anyway, he'd been enslaved under circumstances very similar to my own. Why then would he feel sympathy for my plight? "I was only too happy to help, Anwar! And yes, my slave is well-versed in using his sexual wiles to take advantage of a situation. But I must compliment you on your new slave. He is a fine specimen and should generate much interest among my buyers; that is - if it is you wish to sell him?" "It is my intention to sell him, Malik. Is it too late to list him in Saturday's auction?" "No, not at all, Anwar! If we work quickly we can have him ready for displaying tomorrow. I have scheduled a special showing for a few of my favoured clients for tomorrow and he can take his place on the viewing podium. The slave doesn't have much body hair - so that can be removed quickly - although it seems a pity to remove his golden pubes. And it won't take long to crop his head to an acceptable length. Luckily, the slave's been circumcised and so no cutting is necessary. About an hour's work is all that's required and he can be placed in a holding pen with the other livestock." Shocked, I listen to this conversation being conducted in English which is at variance with their earlier ones spoken in Arabic. I wonder if they are doing this deliberately; to taunt me and to acquaint me with my new circumstances. Everything has taken on a surreal feel. My brain is snap-frozen with the full horror of my situation. I struggle to comprehend what is happening to me. But one thing is abundantly clear and there is no confusion in my mind. The awful truth dawns on me; I am now a slave like Miguel and Mustapha's six waiter slaves and like them I am to be sold in three days' time. What unimaginable horrors await me before I mount the auction-block? To be continued............................ You can access all the Jean-Christophe stories by joining the archive at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES A Sequel to "A Reversal of Fortune" Chapter 36: "Grandfather's Water-wheel" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) Read my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are purely fictitious and belong to the writer's imagination. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures." Chapter 36: "Grandfather's Water-wheel" Altogether, I spent six weeks on the water-wheel! Where do I start and how do I describe the horrors of those first, awful days as my body and mind adjusted to the unaccustomed physical labour. Back in the city, I'd thought my time spent on the woodheap and the days harnessed to the lawnmowers were unimaginably hard. Yet, they paled into insignificance when compared to the water-wheel. The discovery of the wheel would have to stand as one of man's greatest achievements - if not the greatest. Simple in its concept, it liberated man from having to shoulder heavy burdens and provided him with a means of transport for both him and his goods. Along with agriculture, it served as one of the catalysts in man's evolution from a primitive hunter/gatherer forever wandering in his quest for food to that of a static farmer with control over his food source. And it allowed man to settle into the first rural communities which over millennia gave rise to today's towns and cities. Civilisation owes much to the invention of the wheel and to its unknown inventor. However, it is something we take for granted. It is so integrated into our lives that we no longer give it a thought. It provides us with our transport and it is integral to all our machinery. It was one of the driving forces for our industrial advancement, it liberated man from the need for hard physical labour and it eased his burdens. And yet, in the society of which I was so recently a proud member, we found it necessary to use slaves rather than machines and to substitute horsepower with muscle power. Why have we done this? In recent times I have had ample time to think on this. The water-wheel has served mankind well. It delivers life-giving water to sustain life in those parched, hostile regions where previously man, his animals and crops couldn't exist. It takes water from areas of abundance and delivers it to areas of need. As I strain at my Grandfather's wheel, I can appreciate all he told me about the mechanics of this wondrous wheel. But what he neglected to tell me - and I wonder did he ever think about this - is of the wheel's inability to function without an external driving force. I know in some primitive, rural areas donkeys or oxen are used to keep the wheel turning. But in our slave-owning community, it is easier to consign a slave to the living hell of the water-wheel in its various manifestations. As I push the capstan in a ceaseless round of never ending pain, I wonder what fiendishly cruel mind first turned something as benign and as beneficial to mankind as the water-wheel into an instrument of torture; what sadist first consigned a fellow human to its torments? Each morning is a repeat of the previous one. They never vary. I am awakened by Sir Conn, hurried through my preparations for the day and taken by him and chained to my work station. Of course, there is the brief pause in the seclusion of the shrubbery, where hidden from prying eyes, I kneel before Sir Conn and take his cock into my mouth. That is the only brightness in the bleak darkness of my existence and I have learnt to savour it. That first morning, as Sir Conn chained my wrists to the thick, rounded spoke, I trembled with trepidation. I remembered my first, boyhood visit with my grandfather to see the wheel in operation and in my mind's eye I vividly pictured the wretched, naked slave straining under the lash to keep it turning. I recalled the stress placed upon his strong, young body and the erotic image of his muscles and tendons stretched to the utmost which had strangely excited my boyhood imagination. I heard the loud rasping of his breathing as he constantly sought to fill his oxygen depleted lungs and his laboured grunts as he was called to greater exertion. I recalled the animal smell of his unwashed body mixed with the heady aroma of the sweat that coated his nakedness giving it an oily sheen in the strong sunlight. But most of all I remembered the criss-crossed pattern of the stripes on his back and ass laid there by the whip of his overseer. And once again, I recalled his loud screams of pain as the whip wrapped itself sinuously around his torso like some sinister, black snake. In my recollection of Grandfather's wheel, that slave was the first of countless others who had, over the years, laboured ceaselessly to keep the water flowing to La Fort's thirsty gardens and fountains. He was the first and that morning, as I began my labours, I became the latest in that long, continuous line of toiling, suffering humanity. As Sir Conn fastened my wrists in place, the thought uppermost in my mind was that I was unequal to the task. I knew much would be demanded of me and should I not give of my best then I would suffer the whip. The realisation that, within a few moments, Sir Conn would give the order for me to begin my labours caused me to tremble. Sir Conn made one final check to see that I was securely chained in place and when satisfied he gave me the order to. "Right, dumb-ass! Start pushing" And to give his command emphasis, he gently laid his whip across my shoulders. The whip's pain was no more than a sting but it had the desired effect; involuntarily I pushed forward on the spoke. But nothing happened! The capstan didn't move and I struggled to find purchase on the worn cobblestones beneath my bare feet. "Come on boy! Put your back into it!" Sir Conn spurred me on and I responded by pushing harder. Still nothing happened and Sir Conn lost patience with me. Behind and above me I heard the ominous whistle of his whip and the loud `thwack' as it fell on my back. Momentarily there was silence as the receptors carried the pain to my brain before exploding into agonising reality. Then I heard myself scream. Desperately I thrust forward with every ounce of strength within me; but still the wheel refused to move. Twice more Sir Conn's whip fell on my unprotected body and my cries startled the birds in the surrounding trees and shrubs into silence. Sir Conn's treatment confused me. I thought back to our interlude of just a few minutes ago when I had knelt before him and pleasured him. I had suckled his cock into erection and I had done all that I could to satisfy him. As I swallowed hard to take his essence into me, he patted my head and gently stroked my face and softly cooed that I was a "good boy". Now he was berating me with his tongue and abusing my body with his whip. Sir Conn's tongue and his whip demanded that I try harder. Chained to the wheel, I couldn't flee. I had but one option open to me and that was to move forward. I drew on those hidden reserves of strength that lie deep with us but even these proved insufficient to the task. The wheel refused to budge. Suddenly, I reached the end of my endurance. I couldn't go on and I no longer cared. At that moment the "will to Iive" deserted me and I wanted to die. I wanted the oblivion of a sweet death rather than the bitterness of my existence; I wanted peaceful release from the torments of my slavery. But before that I wanted to see Norge for one last time! And despite Sir Conn's best efforts, I couldn't go on. I was panic stricken and fearful of further punishment at his hands, I was bordering on hysteria. As I dropped to my knees, I shouted out to him. "SIR! I CAN'T! I CAN'T! I CAN'T! I CAN'T DO THIS" I suppose this presented the young apprentice overseer with a dilemma. Before him was the slave he'd been given authority over seemingly defying his lawful commands. What was he to do? Once more, he unsuccessfully used his whip to make me stand and when that failed, he grabbed hold of my shoulders and tried to physically haul me to my feet. But I was beyond caring and I resisted and remained on my knees. Sir Conn alternately threatened and cajoled me; the tone and pitch of his voice ranged from soft pleading to loud anger. And still I didn't respond. I couldn't and through my tears and sobbing I heard myself telling him. "Sir! I can't go on! It is beyond me, Please, I can't. I just can't do it." "WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?" Neither Sir Conn nor I had seen Claymore Jackson's approach. It wasn't that he'd sneaked up on us. Both Sir Conn and I had been too pre-occupied to hear his footsteps scrunching on the gravelled pathway. Sir Conn, red-faced with embarrassment, told him..... "Sir! The slave refuses to work. He wouldn't push the wheel even though I whipped him and then he dropped to the ground and now he refuses to work." "Is that true boy? You deliberately disobeyed a command given to you by your supervisor?" `Sir, I .............." My answer was cut short by Claymore's shouted instruction to me. "GET UP ON YOUR FEET! NOW! How dare you speak to me slumped on the ground. Get up or I'll whip your ass." Fearfully, I scrambled to my feet and Claymore looked into my tear-stained face and obviously noted my distress. "Now tell me boy. What's all the fuss about?" My words tumbled out as I told him of my inability to turn the wheel and of my feelings of despair. I finished by telling him I just wanted to die. I was unprepared for what happened next. Angrily, Claymore slapped my face with such force that I staggered sideways; only my wrist shackles prevented me from falling. Furiously, he berated me. "STOP RIGHT THERE, BOY! Let's not have any more of this nonsense about you wanting to die. That's not going to happen. You are too valuable to your Master for us to allow you to die. You're a slave and you are young, fit and healthy. You have many productive years of labour in you and it is my job to keep you alive and working hard in your Master's interests. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, BOY?" There was no gentleness in his voice; just the harshness that he reserved for all his dealings with the slaves in his charge. I remembered back to my boyhood. Then, Claymore Jackson had always been very much a part of my life. I recalled the many times, when I'd trustingly placed my small, white hand into his large black one and we'd walked together on his rounds of inspection. As I remembered those times, I realised that side of the man was now lost to me. The gentleness I'd known as a child had been replaced with the cold indifference of a superior for a slave. But I had hesitated too long in answering his question. Once more he slapped my face and demanded that I answer. "I asked you a question, slave. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?" I was left with no illusions! This man who had once been my employee and friend saw me as just another of the slaves under his control. Fearfully, I answered his question. "Yes, Sir! I understand." "What do you understand, boy?" "Sir! That I must live and serve my Master." "Good boy! Now let's not have any more of your tantrums. You're here to work and you'll do as you're told. When your supervisor gives you an order you'll obey him immediately. Won't you?" "Yes Sir!" "Good boy! Now let's see if any damage has been done to you? Turn around." I turned so that he could examine by back. I couldn't see his face but I could sense his displeasure as his finger traced over the pattern of stripes left by Sir Conn's whip. He rebuked the young overseer. "Conn! It appears you were a bit heavy-handed with whip. Mr Maratier said the slave isn't to be permanently damaged by the whip. You do remember him saying that, don't you?" Crestfallen, the young apprentice apologised. "Yes sir! I'm sorry sir! But I didn't know what to do when dumb-ass refused to work." "Well fortunately, no serious damage has been done to Rafe. He'll have a sore back for a few days but that's of no consequence. It goes with the job so to speak. But you must remember he is a valuable slave and Mr Maratier doesn't want him permanently marked. You'll need to go lightly with your whip from now on. Now, did the slave actually refuse to work?" "Sir! No matter how hard I pushed him he couldn't get the wheel started. Then he just dropped to his knees and said he couldn't do it." "Well he's over that foolishness now. But it's unusual! A slave of Rafe's strength shouldn't have any trouble getting the wheel to start and keep it turning. Let's see if there's a problem. Rafe put your shoulder to the wheel." I had become calmer and so I hastened to obey. I pushed with all my might and even when Claymore told me to "put more muscle into it" the wheel refused to budge. "Hang on! The cogs aren't engaging." Claymore exclaimed. "Let me check to see if the brake is on." Claymore moved to the opposite side of the capstan and drew Sir Conn's attention to a lever. "That's the trouble, lad! No wonder Rafe couldn't move the wheel. You hadn't released the brake allowing the cogs to mesh together." "I'm sorry sir! I didn't know about it." "No I suppose you didn't. I should have remembered to tell you. But I tend to forget these small details. Still no harm has been done. But tonight, when you finish up here make sure you pull the brake lever and disengage the cogs. We do that to save wear and tear on them." Claymore Jackson's words that `no harm has been done' took on a grim irony. My striped back was testament to the harm that had been done to me. And his concern to save wear and tear to the cogs didn't extend to me. But then why should it? After all I was only a slave. Then, Claymore stooped and picked up a small, rounded pebble and ordered me to. "Open your mouth, boy. Open wide, boy!" I obeyed him and as he put the pebble in my mouth, he instructed me to. "SUCK!" Sir Conn was curious and asked him why he did this. "It's a trick of the trade, Conn." Claymore answered. "Giving a slave a pebble to suck on keeps his saliva flowing and his mouth moist. It helps with his thirst. After, all we can't allow a slave to stop work every time he bellows out for water. Can we?" That was news to me! As I sucked on the pebble, I thought I should be grateful to the estate manager for his compassionate act. But then I realised it wasn't compassion that prompted him; it was practicality. It was to ensure that I kept working. However, any act of mercy shown to a slave - no matter how small - is meant to be appreciated by him. And as was expected of me, I thanked Claymore Jackson. "Sir! Thank you!" "Right then, Rafe! Let's have you at it." Claymore's command cut short my answer. "Start pushing." Once more I pushed with all my strength. And I was successful! My forward movement was momentarily halted as with a loud `clunk' the cogs of the capstan mesh with the cogs of the water-wheel finally setting it in motion. Claymore Jackson stayed with Sir Conn long enough to ensure I continued to push my weight and kept the wheel turning at the required speed. Once he was satisfied, he took his leave of the young apprentice telling him there were other places and other slaves in need of his attention. But he had one, final warning to give me. "Boy! You're here to work. So work hard and do as your overseer commands. I DON'T WANT TO HAVE TO COME BACK TO YOU!" With that, Claymore Jackson walked away and I was left alone with Sir Conn to work on the water-wheel. Slowly, my body adjusted to the unfamiliar stress labouring at the capstan placed upon it. But I struggled. Oh how I struggled! My body strained and my muscles and sinews were stretched to their limits. My unshod feet were unable to find proper purchase on the smooth cobblestones and slipped and slithered beneath me. I wanted to give up but Claymore Jackson's admonishment that I was there to work in my Master's interests and that he won't tolerate any more tantrums from me were a powerful incentive to keep working. Claymore's words carried the implied threat of punishment if he was called back to me. I knew what that meant. Too often I had witnessed what happened to any slave foolish enough to displease him. I can testify to his anger. My previous warm regard for the estate manager had been replaced by cold fear. I was terribly afraid of him. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Altogether, I spent six weeks on the water-wheel. Six weeks in which I was reduced to an unthinking beast-of -burden. For six weeks I plodded mindlessly in an endless succession of circles that took me nowhere. At first, as I strained at the capstan's spoke, I decided for the sake of my sanity that I must keep my brain active and I desperately tried to occupy my mind by thinking about other things. I thought of happier times; my childhood, my beloved grandparents, my schooldays and my three special friends, Miles, Jack and Daniel and the holidays we'd shared here at La Fort. And I wondered whether Miles and Jack had succeeded in helping Daniel choose a suitable slave as a birthday present from his father. As I thought about my former friends, I remembered the time when, at Lionel Schuster's slave-yards, my three, former friends first saw me as the slave I had become. That all seemed a lifetime ago but in fact it was very recent and measured in days rather than weeks. I wondered what they would think if they could now see me at work on my grandfather's water-wheel. How would they re-act? Would they gloat at my downfall as so many others have done? Would they jeer at me? Or, remembering how close we had once been, would they have some residual regard for me? I do recall Miles' kindness to me on that day, when he'd intervened on my behalf during Lionel Schuster's assessment of my strength. The odious slaver has pushed me to the limits of my endurance and I was on the verge of collapse from exhaustion and thirst. Disregarding both my Master and the slaver, Miles had stepped forward and given me water to drink. His simple act of compassion was one of the few glimmers of kindness shown to me in those first terrible, days of my new slavery. And as I think on Miles' act, my heart swells with gratitude to him and tears mist my eyes for lost friendships. The last time we were together, they were my Master's special guests at his `welcoming the neighbours' soiree. On that occasion Master forced me to kneel before them - and also my former lawyer, Simon Barrow - and use my mouth to pleasure them. That shameful night, I was a novice but after taking four rampant cocks, one after the other into my mouth, I gained a degree of proficiency that I have since perfected on Norge in the nightly solitude of our shared stall. I haven't seen my former friends since that night. Although, I did overhear Master inviting them to call again anytime they were in need of release. Master suggested they call ahead to ask a suitable time to visit and he would ensure I was made available to them. Thankfully, they haven't done so and I wonder if this is out of consideration for our former friendship. But I have seen my former lawyer since that night. Twice, he has accompanied Master out to La Fort where he has been an overnight guest. I couldn't help but notice a warm friendship developing between them which will eventually see Simon as Master's closest friend and confidante. Whenever he visits La Fort, Simon always pays me a visit as I toil at the wheel. He tells me he has come to `check up on an old acquaintance'. But his visits aren't those of a friend. He is there to taunt and gloat over me. He tells me that I am developing a beautiful physique and that I am a slave any master would be proud to own. Once, he told Sir Conn that I was slacking off and that I needed to be driven harder and he smirked as I was whipped. But even crueller is the manner in which he taunts my thirst. Usually, as he watches me straining at the capstan, he sips water from an ice frosted tumbler and makes loud slurping noises as he tells me how soothing it is to his parched throat. He further tells me that if it were up to him he would allow me a sip or two but of course, I'm not his slave and so he can't intervene on my behalf and apologises. "Sorry Rafe! But you do understand my situation don't you, boy? You do know I can't give you any of my water." "Yes sir! I understand sir! Thank you very much, sir!" Slave etiquette demands that I answer any question put to me by a free person and that I must answer with the utmost respect. Still having to thank Simon Barrow for teasing me is galling and as I answer the bitter bile rises in my throat. "Good boy! I knew you'd understand." Always, I seethe at the injustice of his actions. I know instinctively that he is trying to provoke a response from me. But I refuse to be baited by him. To allow myself to do so would result in painful punishment. But my resentment of my former attorney is deep seated and my hatred of him intensifies. In the solitude of my lonely thoughts, I wonder about his vindictiveness. What motivates him to torment me? I'm not to know that in treating me as he does he is currying favour with my Master and his grandmother. Simon has ingratiated himself into Charlotte Maratier's good graces and very carefully, he is insinuating himself into their affairs and making himself indispensible to their needs. However I am left to wonder about his spitefulness! But such thoughts weren't sustainable on the water-wheel. An angry shout from Sir Conn or the cut of his whip across my shoulders or ass soon drove them from my mind only to have them replaced with my pain or my despair. The burden of these weighed as heavily on my soul as did the crushing weight of the capstan on my body. To compensate for my suffering, my mind emptied itself and left a void which I now tried to fill with inconsequential things. How long did it take me to complete one circuit of the wheel? How far did I walk in a day? As I inclined my body forward to push the wheel and keep it moving my eyes were downcast to the ground and I even took to counting the cobblestones beneath my rapidly, callousing feet. The cobblestones were polished smooth by the feet of so many other slaves who'd toiled here before me and who'd worn into them the deep groove in which I trod. The friction of my feet now served to further deepen this groove and to polish the cobblestones. At first, I exercised my brain by memorising a starting point and I used this to count the number of circuits I completed. I was without any conception of time and my day wasn't marked by minutes or hours. Rather, its duration was counted by the number of revolutions of the capstan to which I was chained. But even that simple mathematical task proved too difficult for me; it is so easy to lose your train of thought and forget the numbers when a whip wraps itself cruelly around your body. Inevitably, with so many interruptions from Sir Conn, I simply gave up and emptied my mind. Now I plod around my circuit with a bovine docility oblivious to all but Sir Conn's instructions and whip. My day begins early. Sir Conn has me chained to my station as the sun's rays lighten the eastern sky heralding a new day of unrelenting toil and boredom. I'm not aware of how many hours I spend in my never ending labour. But in reality, I spend fourteen hours a day on the capstan straining to keep the wheel turning and the water flowing. There is no respite for me other than that I am allowed to pause briefly every two hours while Sir Conn gives me water to drink. Thus my day is broken up by these all too short periods of rest. But these breaks are a mixed blessing. In one sense they are most welcome. Greedily, I gulp down as much water as I can to replace the body moisture lost through my copious sweating. And working on the capstan in the sun's ferocity makes me sweat a lot. And I use these breaks to try and piss. However, I'm not always successful; most of my bodily fluids are dissipated through my perspiring and very little is left for my bladder. But inevitably, shortly after my water breaks, I find I do need to urinate and humiliatingly I simply piss as I push. But there is a down side to these breaks in my routine. The effort required to restart the wheel in motion places enormous pressure on me. At first, I need to exert all my strength into turning the capstan and then expend all my energy in quickly regaining the wheel's lost momentum. But Sir Conn spurs me on with both his tongue and his whip. In some ways, I suppose the boredom I feel is shared by Sir Conn. How tedious it must be for him to spend his days in charge of me. Like me his is confined to this one spot. But unlike me he isn't in chains and does have the freedom to move around; to exercise his cramped muscles and to relieve his boredom. For the first few days, he had enthusiastically supervised me. He'd walked alongside me on my circuitous journey exhorting me to greater effort. But the novelty of his new responsibilities soon palled into tedium. A combination of the heat and the ever present stinging insects attracted by my sweat soon drove him indoors to the cool shade of the cabana which is provided for the overseer of the water-wheel. The cabana has always been there for as long as I can remember. Its construction is simple and consists of upright supports opened on all four sides to catch the prevailing cool breeze and with a thatched roof to provide welcome shade for the sun's rays. It is sparsely equipped with a table and chairs, a hammock and a water cooler. And it is to here that Sir Conn retreats as soon as he is satisfied that I am fully extending myself and the water is flowing into the reservoir at the required rate. And there he relaxes in the hammock as I toil; he reads or listens to music as I strain to keep the wheel turning. Whenever, he is thirsty he has instant access to a limitless supply of water whilst I must wait until my next water break. He quaffs greedily as I thirst mightily. How I envy him this freedom to relieve his thirst at will. As I watch him drinking, I am tormented by my own thirst. My parched throat screams for relief and even though the pebble in my mouth does help minimally, my tongue sticks to the dry roof of my mouth. Frequently, during the day, Colton, the major domo has a house slave bring Sir Conn icy-cold drinks and nibbles. And always, at mid-day, a slave appears with an appetisingly cooked meal for my handler which adds further to my torment. The spicy aroma of a freshly cooked stew or of a delicious roast dinner teases my sense of smell and tantalises my taste buds. It always serves to highlight the monotony of my slave diet and the blandness of the grey-green, glutinous mess that I am fed twice a day. But worst of all is the heat. The mornings when I begin my labours are relatively cool but the exertion demanded of me soon sees me lathered in perspiration. As I labour, I sweat copiously; it runs in rivulets down my naked body and drips onto the cobblestones below me leaving a trail of droplets behind me. With my wrists chained to the capstan's spoke, I am unable to wipe my brow and the sweat stings my eyes and drips from the end of my nose. My body is plagued by the ever present swarms of flying insects who feed on my body's moisture and no amount of shaking on my part will dislodge them. Sir Conn directs me from the shade of his cabana. Often, he berates me for the inconsistency of my efforts. Despite my best efforts to meet his demands, there are times when my head throbs from the incessant heat of the sun, my legs tire and buckle under the strain of my constant pushing and my arms and shoulders cry out for relief from their constant pain. At such times my steps shorten and my pace slows. Sometimes, Sir Conn stirs and ventures out into the lethargic heat to apply his whip to my back or my ass. But mostly, he stays with the cabana's welcome shade and verbally exhorts me to. "Come on dumb-ass! Put your back into it. Move yo'self boy! You don't wanna make me come out in the heat to whip your lazy, white-boy ass to speed you up. If I have to do that, I'll make you pay. So ... move it! Faster!" My fear of the whip always renews my flagging strength and somehow I also find the energy to increase my speed. Often, as I push against the capstan's resistance, I think back to my first visit to this wheel with my grandfather all those years ago. Vividly, I recall the young slave whose body had imprinted itself so indelibly into my memory. I see his strong, young body stretched to its very limits and the strain the capstan had placed upon his taut muscles. I remember the erotic spectacle he'd provided and I wonder if I now present Sir Conn with such a display. Do I arouse him as that slave had me? >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> That first morning, and I suppose I'd been labouring for just an hour or so, my Master and his son, Master Etienne paid me a visit. At first, I'd wondered if Master had come to gloat over me but this wasn't so. He'd simply come to watch me at work and he didn't speak to me. Rather all his questions were directed at Sir Conn. In answer to his many questions, the young overseer relayed to his employer how I`d been difficult to start and how at one stage, I had thrown myself to my knees and refused to work. He failed to mention that the capstan's brake was engaged and this prevented me from starting the wheel in motion. I suspect Sir Conn was being disingenuous in not telling Master this. If necessary, Sir Conn could use my `intransigence' to explain away the angry stripes on my back. This galled me. It was tempting to correct the false impression given to my Master that I was a disobedient slave. But for a slave, discretion is the better part of valour and I bit my tongue. This incident served to once more drive home to me a slave's utter powerlessness. A slave can offer no excuse for his poor behaviour nor can he ever contradict a superior. As they talked, they were joined by Claymore Jackson and the major domo, Colton who'd taken time out from his busy schedule of supervising the house slaves to visit the water-wheel. I overheard him tell Master that he was here to `check out how the new slave is making out'. Colton came equipped with icy cold drinks for all except me. Surreptitiously, I watched as the four men and Master Etienne slaked their thirst not once but several times. My own parched throat screamed for relief and I heard my plaintive begging. "Please Master! Water! I'm thirsty. Can I have some water? PLEASE MASTER!" My request startled them into silence. I had dared to interrupt their conversation and I was to pay a price for my disrespect. Angrily, Claymore grabbed the whip from Sir Conn and applied it to my shoulders. "Shut the fuck up!" Once more the whip cut into me only that time it sliced across my ass. "How dare you interrupt when your Master is talking? Slave, you need to learn proper respect. Now apologise to your Master and beg for his forgiveness." Once more the whip wrapped itself around me causing me to cry out in pain. Then as my cry subsided, I heard myself saying. "Master! I am sorry. Please forgive me. I meant no disrespect to you, Master! But I am so thirsty." I don't know if my Master forgave me or not; he didn't acknowledge my apology. And I wasn't given water to drink! I had paid a high price for my temerity in asking for water. My Master spent another twenty minutes talking to his overseers before taking his leave of them. I don't know what they spoke of but recalling my own time as the Master, I would imagine they told him of the day's operations. Then, they watched in silence as he and Master Etienne disappeared back into shady environs of the garden. Satisfied that Guy Maratier was out of earshot, they began to talk about their new employer. "Tell me truthfully Colton, what's your opinion of the new Maratier owner?" "They're early days yet, Claymore and I'll reserve my judgement. But Guy lacks the poise and refinement of the Barrois family. Which isn't all that surprising? I hear the Maratier's are white trash and it shows. And as for the boy, Etienne. The least said about him the better. Both father and son have the most appalling manners. Turning those two into white gentlemen will be akin to making a silk purse out of a sow's ear, I'm afraid. They're better suited to serve as slaves. " "That's interesting! But I wouldn't underestimate Guy Maratier. It's true he is white trash but I think he is also very shrewd and he possesses a natural cunning. I have been surprised at how quickly he is adapting. Already he has a great grasp of how things are done here at La Fort. I suspect he is being well primed by his grandmother, Charlotte, who as you know, is the disowned sister of old Jean-Claude." "All that happened well before my time, Claymore. I'm not familiar with all the details. I only ever heard the house slaves gossiping and as you know they aren't all that reliable. I seldom pay any heed to what they say. In fact, if I catch the house slaves gossiping, I usually take them out to the punishment yard and give them a thrashing. As a matter of principle, I don't hold with slaves talking about their owner's affairs. " "Yes all that happened before my time too, Colton. However, I hear old Charlotte is very formidable and a force to be reckoned with. She is also very bitter at the family's treatment of her all those years ago and is determined to extract revenge for it. I understand from sources in the city that Rafe here is the main focus of her hate. And you remember the slave, Cato, don't you? Well, I heard she was instrumental in having Cato sold for no other reason than that he was Jean-Claude's favourite slave and reputed to be his Master's bed-buck. But before she did so, she used every opportunity to humiliate and shame him. She even ordered him to remove his tunic telling him he was no different to any other of Guy's slaves and she'd had Cato's ass caned in front of all the household slaves Finally, she prevailed on her grandson to sell Cato at public auction." "Cato has been sold? But he was always a loyal slave to the Barrois family. I always thought he was a permanent fixture." "Not any more, I'm afraid. My sources tell me Cato was placed naked on the auction block and sold as a heavy duty work slave." "I suppose Cato was past his best years. At his age, he'd have limited appeal as house slave so it was inevitable he'd finish his days in a quarry or a mine. " "True, from what I remember of Cato he has a few productive years still left in him. But of more immediate concern to you; I should think Charlotte will make a triumphal return to La Fort very soon. So just be careful, Colton, Don't underestimate her or Guy Maratier. But tell me - what do you think of Rafe?" "Arrogant young prick! He's in his proper place." "So you don't feel any sympathy for him?" "No, none at all!" "Colton, I'm surprised at the strength of your dislike for him. Why is that?" "It's alright for you. You only ever came face to face with him around the plantation. It was different for me. I had to live in the house with him. I was always catering to his whims. Making sure everything was `just right' for him. Ensuring the house slaves were kept out sight and out mind. He insisted they remain silent and that they were never within his presence unless they were serving him. And it got worse after his grandfather died. Always the spoiled brat; the power went to his head." Dismayed, I listened to the conversation between Claymore and Colton. I couldn't dispute the comments made about my Master and his grandmother. I knew that what Claymore said was true. After all, I was present as Charlotte humiliated Cato by forcing him to strip naked and I knew she relished sending the newly nude Cato around to the neighbours' homes with her personal invitations to her grandson's `getting to know you' soiree. And I had accompanied Cato to the slave dealers where we'd been evaluated. Luckily, Master had taken me home but I was witness to his callous discarding of Cato as he was left behind with the dealer and sold several days later. But the comments of my former major domo did shock me. I had no idea of the depths of his dislike for me. As I strained on the capstan, I asked myself if Colton's opinion of me was true. Was I as obnoxious as the person he was describing? But then, I remember he is speaking of my former self, Lucien Barrois. Perhaps he was all the things that Colton ascribed to him. But I was no longer that person. I was the slave, Rafe. And it was as Rafe that I listened to what they had to say about Lucien Barrois. It was inconceivable that the naked, sweating slave chained like a beast-of-burden to the capstan and forced to work under the lash was once the proud and haughty Lucien Barrois of their conversation. As Rafe, I acutely felt the loss of all that had once belonged to Lucien Barrois. As I thought on this, I was filled with revulsion at what I had become. No longer a man, I was more akin to a mindless, brute animal kept in chains and made to work at the whim of its owner. At that moment, I needed to urinate. But the wheel couldn't pause for something so basic and so, deprived of my humanity; I simply pissed as I worked. Acutely, I felt my sense of deep shame as the three overseers watched my humiliation. Poor Lucien! How the mighty had fallen! Despite this, I was shocked and hurt me to know that I, as Lucien, had been so poorly thought of by Colton. "Hmm, I wonder?" Claymore mused. "Tell me Conn, what was your opinion of Lucien Barrois?" "I'm not sure what you mean, sir?" "Well tell me? What did you think of him when we interviewed you for your apprenticeship?" "I have to agree with Mr Colton, sir! I thought Lucien Barrois was just an arrogant, white boy who looked down on us coloured folk. I thought his manner was very condescending to me. Mr Colton is right, he was a patronising prick. He's now where he belongs; a white cocksucker working as a slave." I wanted to protest! Sir Conn was so wrong about me. I had never looked down on my black overseers. I had shared my grandfather's regard for them and I had always shown them the greatest respect. Already that morning, I had been punished for interrupting my superiors. I couldn't face another whipping at Claymore's hands and so I remained mute. "However, Claymore," Colton paid me a compliment, "I have to say he makes a fine slave. Wouldn't you agree?" "Indeed he is, Colton. Indeed he is. But he's not yet at his peak and I still have much work to do on him." "How do you mean? I think he's a prime specimen." "And he is, Colton. But there's always room for improvement in the best of slaves. For one thing, he needs to shed any residual puppy fat he has. But to be fair, I don't see too much on him but I do need to muscle tone his body. I don't know if you're aware that Rafe is to serve as one of our employer's ponies. I have six months to train him." "So is that why you put on the water-wheel? To build him up?" "That's correct. I'll keep him on the wheel for six weeks. That should build up his cardio-vascular fitness and strengthen his shoulders and legs. You won't know him in six weeks' time. His body will show all the benefits of service on the wheel. It will trim him down, develop his thighs and leg muscles and tighten his buttocks. And speaking of his ass; six weeks working in the sun should darken it up so that it matches the rest of him. Personally, I find his white midriff ugly. But come back in six weeks' time and his ass will be nicely tanned." "It looks as though his ass has already been tanned by young Conn's whip." Somehow Colton's attempt at humour at my expense fell flat and no one laughed and least of all me. "What do you plan for him after his six weeks on the wheel, Claymore?" "I haven't yet decided on that, Colton. Either he'll work in a field gang or I'll place him in a team of heavy duty drafts hauling one of the lorries. At this stage, I'm inclining towards the second option. That should prepare him for his pony training." I knew then what Claymore had planned for me. But that was in the future and that day was my first on my grandfather's noria water-wheel. I had another forty-one days to serve before I would be set free from it. Each one of those days promised to be a test of my endurance. I continued to turn the wheel as Claymore and Colton returned to their duties. Sir Conn retreated to the welcome shade of the cabana and poured himself a refreshing glass of cool water. I had no notion of time. It felt as though an eternity had passed since I was given my last water ration. Would I have to endure another eternity before Sir Conn stopped me and allowed me to drink? I hoped not. Desperate to ease my thirst, I sucked hard on the pebble in my mouth. As I walked my ceaseless rounds, the sun climbed higher into a cloudless blue sky and its pitiless rays beat down on me. Even the birds fell silent in the somnolent heat and retreated to the deep shade of the treetops. All around me everything was distorted by a shimmering heat haze and the only living creatures to brave the heat - apart from me - were the ever constant companions of my misery; the swarms of insects tormenting me. Silence reigned and the only sounds to disturb it were the loud groan of the capstan, the creak of the water-wheel, my laboured breathing and the soft padding of my bare feet on the hot cobblestones. These set the patterns for the remaining forty-one days of my time on the water-wheel. Many times during those forty-one days, I repeated my earlier questions to myself. What fiendish mind first saw the water-wheel as an instrument of pain? What sadistic mind first condemned a hapless slave to its torture? I will never know the answers to these questions but I suffer the consequences of those decisions. To be continued..................... You can access all the Jean-Christophe stories by joining the archive at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

`CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES' A Sequel to "A Reversal of Fortune" Chapter 23 Part 3: "Publicly Shamed" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission" Chapter 23 Part 3: "Publicly Shamed" Rafe I try hard to remain calm and stay composed; but it's hard. I look beyond Lionel Schuster to where my three former friends are standing with my Master and I see them sniggering at me. As I listen to their crude jokes I am ashamed of what I have become. I'm no longer a man entitled to look them in the eye or share in their conversations. In their presence I must avert my eyes and lower them to the ground and I'm obligated to maintain a respectful silence at all times. And in my silence, I have to listen to their cruel taunts and jibes as they make comments about me. To listen to these is one thing; to endure them is quite another. I hear a somewhat juvenile reference to my boner - I think it was either Jack or Daniel who made the comment - and my resolve breaks. My tears sting my burning cheeks and I hear my choked crying. From deep within me a silent plea for help rises up and manifests itself as a loud cry to my Master to be spared any more indignities. "Please, Master, Please?" However, I'm not to be spared; my Master ignores me and instructs the slave dealer to "hurry along with the appraisal." Standing in front of these five free men, I'm suddenly aware of an all-enveloping sense of my loneliness. My mind is shrouded in fog of black despair and hopelessness and wildly, I look around for some small sign of compassion. But there isn't any to be found in this room. Just a friendly gesture or a kind word would suffice but all I see is scorn and derision in the faces of my former friends and malevolence in Lionel Schuster's eyes. Even my Master looks on with immense satisfaction. Then I think of Norge tethered alone in the courtyard and I draw strength from him. I know that tonight - providing I'm not sold - as we rest side by side in the solitude of our stall, he'll understand my anguish and give me the comfort I so sorely need. Through my tears, I see Lionel Schuster standing before me and I hear his shouted command to "FLEX!" I do as I'm instructed and the dealer reaches out to touch me. "How's the examination going, Mr Schuster? Does my slave measure up?" Guy Maratier is impatient. He looks at the expensive watch that until recently had belonged to Lucien Barrois. He is anxious to hurry things along; after all - how long does to take to appraise a slave? For some reason, he suspects Lionel Schuster is taking his time and savouring this opportunity to evaluate his new slave. The morning is moving on and he still has much to do. And he has a 12.30 PM luncheon appointment with his lawyer, Simon Barrow that he must keep. "Indeed he is, Mr Maratier." Lionel replies with a smirk, as he steps up to feel the hard, rounded balls of my biceps. "He's a fine slave and so far I can't fault him." The dealer's hands move to my shoulders, poking and squeezing their rock like hardness. For a second time, I feel his hands glide down over the solid muscles of my chest; they pause long enough for him to twist and tweak my nipples into alertness and then continue down to poke and prod at the scalloped edges of my abdominal muscles. Again I suffer the indignity of him thrusting his finger into my deeply indented navel. Quite deliberately he ignores my genitals; instead he slides his hands down the outside of my legs to my feet. Then he orders me to move my feet apart before running his hands back up the inside of my legs - pausing in their upward journey to squeeze the corded muscles of my thighs - before coming to rest at my groin. Now Lionel Schuster changes tack and I'm ordered to, "Turn around and assume the obeisance position." Of all the positions of respect demanded of a slave this is perhaps the most degrading. I'd just been in this position a few moments ago and humiliatingly I know this won't be the last time. This position is most popular with slave-owners and is one they demand of their slaves on a daily basis. It is one that I had frequently used with my slaves and now it's demanded of me. I do as instructed and turn with my back to my audience and fall to my knees. I press my forehead to the podium and place my hands - palms down - on the floor on both sides of my head. Suddenly, I'm acutely aware that my ass is now elevated and exposed to public scrutiny. A slave placed in this position is totally debased. Viewed from the back, a slave's hind-quarters are on full display and are open to public scrutiny. Everything is on show and nothing is hidden. I'm so aware of my balls hanging low between my thighs and I'm acutely conscious that my anus is on display; I know this to be so because I feel both the stress this position places upon my sphincter and the quick contractions of my hole as it keeps pace with my rapid heartbeats. I hear the shuffling of feet and looking back through my hind quarters I see my master and my former friends are grouping behind me for a better view of proceedings. Of course, from my lowly position, I can only see their legs and their upper bodies are obscured from my line of sight. On the other hand, I am on full view and I hear Daniel's sniggering reference to me. "Hey guys! Look at Rafe's pucker. Isn't it cute?" "Yeah! His rosebud is cute," I hear Jack's reply, "but I like the way his balls hang down better. I like how his cinch keeps them bunched together." I'm aware of the five men now standing behind me; I hear the raucous, almost childish guffawing of my former friends - they are behaving completely out of character and I'd never seen them acting like this before. Their suggestive comments about what uses they'd put my pucker to if given the chance reminds me of a group of drunken louts rather than the educated men I know them to be. To my great shame I feel hands grabbing at my buttocks and squeezing them hard in a test for their firmness. I blush as a finger travels from the base of my spine down through the crevice to my anus. The finger stops and begins to excite the sensitive tissue of my opening while other fingers stretch my buttocks apart. I assume the fingers belong to Lionel Schuster. I am correct and he confirms this by ordering me, "Spread your knees, boy. WIDE!" I do so and spread my knees as far apart as is physically possible. Humiliatingly, I feel my balls resting in the warmth of the dealer's cupped hand as he inspects them. He jiggles them up and down as they are hefted and weighed. I cry out as my cinched scrotum is roughly grabbed and cruelly pulled down and out through my parted thighs. I find this uncomfortable and I begin to wriggle in protest as each ball is assessed. This angers the slave dealer and his two sharp, open-handed slaps to my upturned ass resound loudly throughout the room. I cease my wriggling and he returns to the job in hand. Firstly, my left ball is rolled between fingers and thumb before being gently squeezed; then it is the turn of the right one to undergo a similar examination. I am breathing heavily and I'm aware that my obscenely, displayed sphincter is puckering with each breath. My shame deepens as I hear Lionel Schuster give his verdict on me. "His balls are sound and healthy and looking at him from this angle, I've got to say I'm impressed. His rear end is as near to perfect as it can be. And you're quite right Daniel. The slave does have a cute pucker. It'll be a good selling point with future buyers." I kneel in humiliating defeat and my tears of shame blotch the floor of the podium beneath me. I have been gutted of my humanity, stripped of my manhood and reduced to the lowest level of existence. Now there is no longer any doubt about what I have become. I am an abject slave - totally! But Lionel Schuster hasn't finished with me yet for I'm now ordered to, "STAND AND DISPLAY!" I stand placidly as he places a hand on either side of my narrow waist and moves them up the widening "V" of my back to my armpits. He orders me to raise my arms above my head so that he can watch the interaction of my shoulders with the different muscle groups and his hands glide smoothly over my back feeling the rippling effect of those muscles. Satisfied, he cups each of my tight buttocks in his hands and squeezes hard in a yet another test of their firmness. Now the order is given to "BEND AND SPREAD. I need to give the slave the finger test to see how tight he is." I'm amazed at how compliant I've become. I now carry out every instruction given to me quickly and without a second thought. Ironically, I think about how easily I have become an obedient slave. I bend at the waist and reaching behind me I take an ass-cheek in either hand and pull them apart until once more I'm obscenely displayed. As I bend at the waist, the dealer kicks my ankles even wider apart. I look back between my out splayed legs and I see my audience once again shuffling into positions that give them a better view of me. The weight of my cinched balls hangs heavy between my legs and pull down on my semi hard cock. Once more, the slaver's hands grope at my rump and I feel his fingers moving up and down the cleft between my buttocks. Again he weighs my balls in a cupped hand as my scrotum is stretched out from my body. Then he reaches in between my thighs and pulls back on my cock and slowly teases its tip to judge my re-action to his stimulation. He seems pleased with my quivering response. Several times he pulls my cock away from my body and momentarily holds it before releasing it and allowing it to slap back in a test of its flexibility. Inevitably, with so much attention being paid to it my cock is massively erect. I know what is to happen next and I try preparing myself for the inevitable. But knowing what is to happen is one thing and experiencing it is quite another; it doesn't prepare me for the wave of shame, humiliation and suppressed anger that I feel. As I hold my buttocks apart for him, the slaver begins to gently tease my hole preparing it for his further exploration. Mentally, I struggle against this obscene assault on me. But even as I do so, I guiltily remember all those other slaves who, during my years as a free man, I had assaulted in similar fashion. I tighten my anus in a vain attempt to deny Lionel Schuster's finger entry into my body and he chuckles at my feeble efforts. Slowly, as I feel his finger teasing my puckering hole, I find myself gradually relaxing until without warning he trusts his finger deep within me. I have been lubricated and his entry is made easy. I gasp at the unwanted intrusion and I begin to wriggle in protest. Through my grunts of discomfort, I hear my plaintive begging "MASTER! PLEASE! DON'T! PLEASE, Oh! Master please stop this. Please MASTER............." My begging goes unheeded and is greeted with loud guffawing from my former friends. Undeterred, the dealer persists and soon his finger is buried deep within me as it explores the warm, moist interior of my body. He is delighted with the feel of me and comments on this to my Master. He tells him that my hole has a silky smooth feel to it that will delight the most discerning of masters. Slowly he works his finger in and out of my hole. He varies the depth of his strokes and speed of his thrusting all the time gauging my responses. At first, I do my best to resist and I strain valiantly to eject the finger. But this only serves to please him and he orders me to, "Right boy, grip my finger! Grip hard! HARDER! Yes, that's it. GOOD! Good boy." Though I am shamed by this I have no alternative but to obey and still he isn't finished with me. "Let's see what you're capable of shall we? Use your ass muscles to milk my finger. Now grip... relax......grip...... relax. Yes! Grip....... relax......Grip. Good boy. You're doing fine. GOOD! Keep going." "The slave's hole is tight and he has good reflexes. The clenching an unclenching of the sphincter muscles is excellent. I like the way his ass grip my finger. Quite delightful! Now if that was my cock rather than my finger ............" "What does that tell you about my slave, Mr Schuster?" "What it tells me about him is that he'd make a superb pleasure slave as I said earlier. If he were my slave then that's how I would see his future. I take it he's untried?" "I don't know. You'd have to ask him. You forget - until five days ago, I'd never meet him." "Indeed Mr Maratier." Lionel Schuster acknowledges my Master's comments before asking me "Have you ever been fucked? Have you ever had a man's cock in you, slave? Answer truthfully." And as if to emphasise the question, he crudely thrusts his finger deeper into my body. I am outraged at both his question and his assault on his body. I have never allowed any man, free or slave to enter me. I had always taken the lead in my sexual encounters and any suggestion otherwise insults me. Temporarily, I forget that I am a slave and shout out my defiance. "NO! OF COURSE NOT! NEVER!" My defiance earns me two sharp slaps to my buttocks and an admonishment from the dealer. "How dare you, slave! Show respect to your betters. Now answer truthfully - has another man ever used you?" To emphasise the point he delivers another stinging slap to my ass with such force that I'm momentarily thrown off balance but his finger buried within me steadies me. Then, as I recover my footing and before I can answer, I receive unexpected support from Miles Fortescue. "Rafe is telling the truth, Mr Schuster. Certainly Lucien Barrois would never have allowed himself to be fucked. Quite the contrary - he always enjoyed playing top dog in any of his sexual encounters. I can vouch for that." "Well, those days are over for him I should think. From now on he'll be on the receiving end if that is what his master wishes. He'll have no other choice but to buckle under. Can I just say, Mr Maratier it would be to your advantage - and certainly to the slave's - to have him broken in before offering him for sale? He does need to be trained into submission and my finger tells me he needs loosening up - but not too much mind you - just enough to make ease of entry possible." "Thank you for your advice, Mr Schuster." My Master dismissively comments, "I'll certainly consider them when I determine Rafe's future. Now let's continue." "Face the front and display, boy!" Fearing his anger, I quickly obey the dealer's instructions and I stand rigidly at attention with my feet apart and my hands clasped behind my head. I don't have long to wait for the next assault on my body; with an easy assurance Lionel reaches out, grabs my scrotum and again toys with my testicles. He turns to my Master and tells him, "As I said before, the slave has a good pair of knockers but we'll need to see what they're capable of, won't we?" He slowly teases my deflating cock back into a full erection all the time playing with my foreskin either by sliding it up and down the shaft or stretching it out over my glans. "Mr Maratier, this really needs to be removed. Is it your intention to have the slave skinned?" "But of course! That's already in hand. Rafe will be circumcised within the next day or so." "Good! A slave should have a smooth cock. Owners don't like to see a slave with a skin and it lessens his value. They regard an uncircumcised slave as unnatural. I don't know whether you're aware of it but we can provide an in-house skinning service for about half the cost of what you'd pay a veterinarian. Are you interested?" No, I'm not! I'm not at all interested. I've already made the arrangements for him to be done by a qualified vet. I take it you use the services of a veterinarian?" "Well....... not exactly! But we have an overseer who is very skilled and much practised. Really you can't fault his handiwork. It's as good as any vet's work and it's much cheaper and our skinning is guaranteed and ......." Once more my Master doesn't allow the dealer to finish. He is curt in his reply and scathing in his comments. "Let's be frank, Mr Schuster! Do you think I would entrust a valuable slave like Rafe to the ministrations of one of your butchers. Never! No Rafe will be done by a qualified man and not by your handyman overseer." All this talk about my impending circumcision is having a deflationary effect upon me and my cock quickly wilts. I shudder at my Master's words that I'm to be done within "the next day or so." I'm well aware of what is involved in skinning a slave. I have seen it done often on newly enslaved men; the last one being Norge. I'd been present when Norge was circumcised and I'd watched to see that he didn't come to any harm. I recall his loud pleading to me to spare him and his torrent of abuse when I had disregarded those pleas and told the vet to carry on. Now his cries of outraged pain come back to haunt me. Once more Lionel Schuster has been rudely rebuffed by my Master and he bridles at this slight to his dignity. I see the sheer hatred that he feels towards his betters reflected in his eyes. And this manifests itself in the malevolence he directs at me with yet another stinging slap to my face and the order to, "STAND UP STRAIGHT, SLAVE! DAMN YOU!" Valiantly, Lionel Schuster tries to rekindle my erection but he soon becomes frustrated with my non-compliance. My mind is too pre-occupied with what awaits me as I lie under the vet's knife. "Relax, boy!" He commands me. But how can I relax? The very thought of what awaits me dampens my ardour and shrivels my flesh. I know of the unimaginable pain that is involved with circumcision. While within the free, male population, circumcision isn't practised, it is standard procedure for slaves. There are many arguments why slaves should be skinned. Some argue that it differentiates them from a free man and is a potent symbol of their slavery. There could be some validity in this; as a slave's natural state is complete nudity then he is forever conscious of his difference. I'd never bothered myself with the reasons why my slaves were circumcised. It was something that was done and I went along with it. Other owners argue it's a matter of hygiene and good health. Their reasons are very rarely spoken of because in polite society, it is considered too indelicate. This is the possibility of an unpleasant odour emanating from a slave if he is left uncircumcised. No matter how many times a day an uncircumcised slave cleans himself the odour always returns. Obviously, this is a problem with a house slave; what master or mistress wants to be assailed by a slave's distasteful odour as he waits on table or serves them in the bedroom. A quick snip alleviates this problem to the owner's satisfaction. However for most slave-holders it's a matter of ascetics. They believe a slave's appearance is enhanced by the absence of that superfluous flap of flesh attached to the slave's cock. I have to admit I fell into this category when I was free. Then, my personal preference was for a slave to be circumcised. Although, I recall that it was Norge's prepuce that had attracted me to him when I first saw him in these very premises. Briefly, I enjoyed the novelty of an uncircumcised slave in my bed and I had allowed Norge to keep his foreskin until I'd tired of it. Inevitably my interest had waned and "off it came" much to Norge's dismay and anger. I recall how he'd begged me to let him keep it and when he saw I was unmoved, he'd subjected me to all kinds of verbal abuse drawing on his vast vocabulary of colourful seaman's language to do so. I have seen circumcision performed on slaves so many times in the past so there is no mystery in it for me. I know precisely what will happen to me and I shudder as I think of what I about to endure. I wonder if my Master will have pity on me and allow the veterinarian to administer a local anaesthetic to ease my suffering. I know this will be entirely at his discretion. Some of the more enlightened slave-owners do allow the vet to anaesthetise the slave. That they do so isn't necessarily for humane reasons; it has more to do with their concern for the slave as a valuable possession. They argue that the value of a slave warrants this consideration as they seek to minimise the risk to a slave's wellbeing by lessening his trauma. As a free man this had been my attitude to skinning my slaves and Norge was a beneficiary from my humane approach. On the other hand, some owners adopt a more frugal approach; their chief concern is to minimise the cost of a circumcision by eliminating the expense of an anaesthetic. Usually these are the poorer "dirt farmers" who are notoriously penny-pinching and it doesn't matter to them if their slaves suffer under the vet's knife. A penny spared is a penny saved could well be their motto. And some of the more traditional slave owners genuinely consider the pain suffered by a slave during his circumcision is beneficial to him. Like the branding iron, a slave's skinning impresses itself into his consciousness and is a constant reminder to him of the power that his master has over him. I wonder into which category my Master will fall. I'm jerked back to reality by Lionel Schuster's sudden sharp tug on my cock. "Come on boy! Get it up! We haven't got all day. RELAX!" I try my best to obey for I know what is now expected of me. Even though I don't want to be shamed further in front of my Master and my former friends, I know I must allow this vile creature to coax me into an erection. I do try and relax - unsuccessfully. This is unusual for me as normally I operate on a "hair trigger" and many of my daily erections are spontaneous. For some reason, I'm unable to comply with the slaver's instruction to "get it up". Is it the fear of my impending skinning that deflates me? Or is it the shame and humiliation I'm being subjected to in front of my former boyhood friends? Perhaps it's a combination of both? I don't know. What I do know is that Lionel Schuster loses patience with me. "What's wrong with you!" he shouts angrily, "Come on relax. Try, damn you! TRY!" He varies the speed of his strokes as he vainly works my cock. The man's foulness repels me and I remain unresponsive to his ministrations. Once more He slaps my face - more out of frustration than anger - and releases his grip of my disobedient cock. "I don't know," he exclaims exasperatedly, "what's wrong with him?" "Perhaps Mr Schuster, if you were to be less excitable and more patient then the slave might relax." My Master's words surprise me. His sympathy for my plight is unexpected. "You only need to look at him to see he's under stress. Look at the way his muscles are all bunched up. And look at the way he is breathing so heavily. Surely that is a sign of his distress. I suppose the fact that he is a new slave makes him a bit emotional with all that's happening. Do you make allowance for that?" "NO, I DON"T!" Lionel Schuster snaps. He is livid with anger. This slave is frustrating him and Guy Maratier's condescending manner has him almost at breaking point. "From my perspective - one gained from my many years in the slave trade, I might add - I don't accept that slaves have emotions. But if they do have them then they have no right to them and they are of no consequence to me. A slave always does as I want. He doesn't have the right of refusal. What this slave needs is for me to cane him hard. Do I have your permission to do so, Mr Maratier?" "No you don't Mr Schuster. Punishing the slave is my prerogative, not yours." "Then what am I to do with him? I can't get him to respond. Very rarely have I had a slave defy me in this manner? How am I to proceed?" "Can I help?" Miles volunteers. "Perhaps the slave will relax with someone he knows and feels comfortable with rather than with a stranger. I'm willing to try. With your permission of course, Guy." "By all means, Miles. Carry on." My Master gives his approval As Miles stands in front of me, I nervously shuffle my feet and instinctively draw back as he reaches out to take my cock in hand. This is completely unexpected and I'm confused. Here is the man I'd always considered to be my best friend attempting to stroke my cock back into life. I look into his face and search for some sign of recognition of our former friendship. I see none. What I do see is the arrogance and indifference of a free man who is simply appraising a slave. I feel my tears slowly welling in my eyes. Miles reaches out and slowly - almost caressingly - he strokes the left cheek of my face. His touch is gentle and his voice is soothing as he calms me. His approach is so different to that of the dealer. His gentleness is in contrast to the sharp, stinging slaps that Lionel Schuster had subjected me to. Yet there isn't any difference in their intent. Both men mean to control me; each in his way is bending me to his will. "Relax Rafe; now let's see what you're capable of, shall we?" Miles speaks encouragingly to me. I respond to Mile's soothing touch and my cock begins to slowly inch back into life. All the time, he softly shushes me and coos to me to relax. Miles continues to stroke my cock to a rock-like hardness and at the same time he takes his hand from my face and begins to gently squeeze my balls. My body responds to this pleasant stimulus and I begin a slow to and fro thrusting movement of my hips. I'm now aware of many sensations; my ass-hole, which just moments ago had been crudely excited by Lionel Schuster's finger, feels alive and my cock and balls give promise of a cataclysmic eruption. My body quivers under Mile's ministrations and I hear my gentle moans of intensifying pleasure. As my prick hardens and lengthens, Miles is obviously fascinated at the erotic way my stomach muscles re-act to each thrust of my hips. I know from past experience that Miles has a weakness for a slave's belly. Miles was always a six pack man. The sight of clearly delineated abdominal muscles and a deeply indented navel on a slave always aroused him. I recall occasions when, as teen- agers, we'd been watching slaves working in his father's fields and Miles had singled out a slave with a well-defined belly for his attentions. I'd watched with some amusement as Miles toyed with the slave. His pre-occupation with a slave's stomach bemused me. For my part, I'd always appreciated the whole slave rather than one particular part of him. To me a comely, young slave was a thing of beauty meant to be enjoyed in its entirety. Now Miles has me standing before him as a slave and my own belly presents him with an inviting playground. Mine is a slave's belly and is fair game for him. He moves his hand up from my balls to my stomach and I tremble as the featherlike touch of his finger traces the outline of my own abdominals. I see him watching the nervous rise and fall of my chest and he suggestively licks his lips as he takes in the rippling and flexing of my pectoral muscles as they expand and contract in keeping with my accelerated breathing. I hear my soft moaning and my nostrils are filled with the heady aroma of my own sweat as it slowly beads on my trembling torso. And I'm aware of Mile's prominent arousal straining beneath his clothing. Temporarily I forget the shame, humiliation and degradation to which I am being subjected and I abandon myself to the moment. As Lucien Barrois I had been attracted to Miles and though we'd never lain together, I'd fantasised about this many times throughout the years of our friendship. And I never knew if he harboured similar feelings for me. I think how ironic it is that this man to whom I'd been sexually attracted as a free man is now pleasuring me. But it isn't as I had fantasised for we are not equal; he is a free man and I am just a slave. He has aroused me and raised me to a level of sexual pleasure that I'd always longed to share with him. But this isn't a sharing of mutual pleasure; it is unequal. He does so because he can and I do so because I must submit to his will. This choice isn't mine to make. It is his right as a free man - he does so with my Master's permission - and I can't refuse because I am my Master's slave. I feel the mounting pressure of my impending ejaculation and I quicken the pace of my thrusting hips. Miles responds by increasing the speed of his strokes. I am almost at the point of no return. "Guys, I suggest you stand further back or move to one side. I think Rafe is about to shoot and I wouldn't like to see him unload all over you". Miles laughingly suggests. "It could get a bit messy". "MASTER! AAH............" My loud shout startles my audience and forewarns them of my imminent ejaculation. Eagerly they position themselves for a closer look and I see the lewd looks on their faces as they wait. But I don't care; Miles has brought me to the brink of an intense orgasm and I'm no longer concerned. My feelings of shame and humiliation no longer matter. My legs tremble, my knees buckle and my defences crumble. I am beyond caring and I begin a faster, more furious thrusting of my hips as the semen pulses up my throbbing cock. My balls are churning and they ache for release. Then from somewhere I hear Lionel Schuster's voice. "Don't waste it boy. Catch it! Use your hand!" I hasten to obey and place my right hand just under the head of my cock. Then, I enjoy the delicious, sharp contractions as my cum explodes through the narrow confines of my piss-slit into my cupped hand. But so voluminous is my discharge that I'm unable to catch it all. "AAHHH!" As I shout, my ejaculation arcs through the air to land with a soft "phat" on the floor before me. I'm no longer in control of my body and I continue to ejaculate with each emission just a little less powerful than its predecessor. Immersed in the ecstasy of the moment, I'm aware that Miles is still milking my balls - coaxing out my last remaining sperm. I tremble with emotion and feel my sphincter opening and closing in time with each of my spurts. All that is left to me to do is to grunt in pleasure. Soon, I am spent and I stand looking at the remains of my ejaculation lying in small, gleaming pools on the floor before me. Looking down, I see the residue of my semen dribbling out of my still hard cock before threading its way downwards to the floor. Slowly, my trembling abates and I wait with my cupped hand held in front of me like an offering. "Good boy!" Miles congratulates me by giving him a series of playful pats on my ass. His manner is condescending and reminds me of a rider patting a horse's rump after a good gallop. "Slave, with a display like that you'll be a firm favourite with your Master. That was TRULY impressive, wouldn't you agree, Guy?" "As you say Miles, it was MOST impressive. I'd say there was a lot of pent-up effort went into that". My Master laughs. "Well boy! Let's see what you've got?" Lionel Schuster moves quickly to re-establish his control over me; the control which had been taken out of his hands by Miles' interference in my inspection. He resents Miles intrusion into his affairs and he seethes inwardly at his arrogance. How he hates this insolent young `pup' and what he wouldn't give to have him stand naked on the podium before him alongside the former Lucien Barrois. As the dealer moves in front of me, I see his loathing for my Master and my three erstwhile friends reflected in his expression but he is careful to conceal this from them. Frustrated, I become the target for his bad humour. He grabs my wrist and examines my ejaculate before giving his verdict. He comments on the volume of my discharge describing it as adequate but berates me for my wastage in not catching it all in my hand and for allowing some to spill onto the floor. Then he adds ominously. "You'll have to clean up your mess from the floor, boy!" He bows his head and sniffs before scooping up some cum on the tip of his index finger and tasting it with his tongue. "Good! Good! It smells sweet and it tastes sweet. Not salty and its fresh tasting. That's excellent. But he's young and you'd expect that from a slave of his age. Of course as he ages it'll become stale and bitter to the taste. But I should think that's still some way off for this boy." My Master is growing impatient with Lionel Schuster and seeks to hurry him along. "Is this really necessary, Mr Schuster? I mean - do we need to know that the slave's sperm is sweet tasting?" "Indeed we do, Mr Maratier. Indeed we do! Some buyers place great store in that, believe me. If you decide to sell your slave, then he'll be subjected to the taste test without a doubt." "I didn't know that." My Master's reply shows his newness and inexperience in assessing a slave as most are routinely tested in this way, "It all seems a bit perverted to me." He adds distastefully. Then before the dealer has time to reply to this latest rebuke, my Master looks at his newly acquired watch - the one taken from me in the courtroom - and asks, "How much longer will you be, Mr Schuster? I need to be on my way to an appointment very soon." Lionel bridles at Guy's impatience. How dare he show such ingratitude? After all isn't he obliging this nouveau riche upstart by giving him a free appraisal on his new slave? Sometimes I wonder why I bother. These people haven't any notion of good manners. Despite their breeding, they lack even the most basic courtesies. Still, as is his custom, he doesn't allow his ill-humour to show. "We're nearly done here, Mr Maratier. You'll soon be on your way. All that we need to do now is to test your slave for his strength and stamina in the exercise yard. But first, I'll get him to clean up his spillage from the floor. But with your permission of course." "You have it! But PLEASE hurry it up will you?" "Right boy! Get to work and clean up your mess." I'm nonplussed by the slaver's instruction to me. I do understand he wants me to clean up what he calls my mess - the remains of my ejaculation. But how am I to do this? And what do I do with the spunk cooling in the palm of my hand? Puzzled, I ask him. "How do I do this sir? How do I clean it up?" "STUPID SLAVE! Why with your tongue of course. Now down on your knees and make a start. Your Master is in a hurry, MOVE!' I'm confused. The slave dealer must be jesting. Does he really expect me to get down on my knees and to use my tongue to clean up my spilled semen? Confused, I look to my Master for guidance, "Master? Please ........." "Rafe, you were given an order. Now obey it. You are on the brink of earning yourself another caning. When we get home, do you really want me to send next door for Pug to come over and stripe your ass?" There is sternness in my Master's voice and yet I detect something else - his rebuke to me isn't altogether unkind. Normally a slave who hesitates to jump to obey an order legitimately given to him by a superior is punished without hesitation. I have hesitated and so I warrant punishment. Yet my Master seems to be given me a second chance to obey Lionel Schuster. "No Master." My answer chokes in my throat. "Then do as you are told. Clean up your mess." Through the confusion of my thoughts, I hear Jack - at least I think it was Jack - saying "This will be good! Watching as Rafe cleans up after himself." Obediently, I fall to my knees. I haven't any other option but to obey or to suffer another caning from Pug and I don't have the fortitude to face that. Foolishly, I look at my cupped hand and realise I must dispose of its contents first. I'm repulsed at the thought of swallowing my own cum but I have no other choice. I raise my hand to my mouth and gingerly taste the cooling, glutinous mess. I don't know what I expected but I'm surprised by the neutrality of its taste. It is neither bitter - as I expected it would be- nor overly sweet. I use my tongue to scoop it into my mouth and I swallow hard. Involuntarily, my throat muscles contract but then relax enough for me to swallow. Now I lick my fingers clean. My effort earns me a compliment form Lionel Schuster. "Good boy! Now that wasn't so hard was it? Now clean up the floor and later on - after your final test -I'll have a reward for you." I know the reward to which he's referring and I shudder at the thought of it. Shortly, he is to claim his prize; to have me kneel before him and use my mouth to service his cock. And I now know I will have to swallow his semen. I cringe at the very thought of doing so. The morning has turned into an endurance test that sees me humiliated and shamed at every opportunity. I have suffered much at the hands of my Master, Lionel Schuster and my former friends. I am at breaking point and silently ask myself - what more must I endure before they are satisfied? My shame and humiliation at their hands has robbed me of any residual self-respect that I had and I am overwhelmed by the hideousness of my fate. Not for the first time this morning, my eyes brim with tears and I suppress a sob catching at my breath. The enormity of my loneliness is just too much to bear. Oh, how I need Norge. But Norge isn't here. I am alone and I must obey the instructions given to me. Now I must do as the dealer has instructed and lick up my spilled semen. Of all that has happened to me since my enslavement surely this is the worst. I am totally debased. I'm on my hands and knees with my head to the floor licking up the small, hardening pools of my own cum. My ass is elevated above my head and I'm acutely aware of the stress upon my anus. I feel my sphincter winking and instinctively I know all eyes are focused on it. Even as I apply my tongue to its distasteful work, I feel a foot placed between my legs forcing them further apart. And I hear Lionel Schuster comment. "There now! That's better! That's opened him up to full view. We can see the whole of the slave now." His "double entendre" isn't lost on the others. Their loud laughter resonates throughout the room and my face burns bright scarlet with my shame. The chain shackling my ankle to the podium restricts my movements and several pools lie just beyond the reach of my tongue. The dealer instructs his assistant to unchain me and I'm now free to crawl forward and finish my work. With the last puddles cleaned up, I now kneel and wait as he instructs my handiwork. Apparently I have given satisfaction; Lionel Schuster orders me to. "Stand and display." "We're nearly done here, Mr Maratier." He tells my Master. "We'll test his strength and endurance and then we're finished." The test of my strength and endurance is to be carried out in an adjacent courtyard and it is an area of the establishment I'm not familiar with. Subsequently it is all new to me. To be continued............................

CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES A Sequel to "A Reversal of Fortune" Chapter 38: "Rafe is taken to the Stables" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) Read all my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are purely fictitious and belong to the writer's imagination. Please don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures." Chapter 38: Rafe is taken to the Stables If possible the next phase of my training was more fraught than the six weeks I'd spent on the water-wheel. But the water-wheel had changed me both physically and emotionally and it prepared me for my new role as a heavy duty draft slave working in a team of ten pulling a large flat-topped dray. My time on the wheel had toughened me up; it had built up my lung capacity, given me the endurance to survive a long day of hard labour and turned my legs into powerful pistons for pulling a heavily laden dray around the plantation. Claymore Jackson's plans for me were carefully thought out. My Master had requested that he turn me into a pony slave to run alongside Norge. Of course, Claymore is no stranger to this. After all, less than twelve months ago, he'd trained Norge to serve me and more recently, he'd also trained Norge's friend, Jake as his personal pony. So it has to be said, he has the expertise - and the dedication -to do the job and to do it well. As I was to discover my training came in three stages each independent of the other but each equally crucial to my overall development. And these three steps had been meticulously thought out by Claymore and he studiously applied them to me. That first stage - the water-whee l - had strengthened my body, broken my resistance to becoming a dutiful slave and given me the endurance to last through a full day of hard labour. In Claymore's words, I was now ready to move onto the second phase that would see me trained to work in team. This is an important step in my overall training. Here, I will become part of a team and I will be taught to work in unison with nine other slaves as a single unit of labour. I will need to match my strength to theirs' and to pace myself alongside of them and to finally lose any individuality that I still retain. I will learn that, as a single entity, I no longer exist and that I now am just one of their numbers. The lessons learned here will stand me in good stead as I run with Norge. And the final step will be more personal and once more it will concentrate on me as an individual. During this stage, I will be trained in bearing and deportment. I will learn the various gaits and prancing steps that my Master will demand of me as one of his personal ponies. I will be taught to carry myself with the upright bearing that shows my pride in belonging to my Master and I will be trained to bring credit to my Master by "showing hard" as I run. My final day on the water-wheel drew to a close and my sense of relief in knowing that I wouldn't be returning tomorrow was overwhelming. But I did wonder if this also meant the end of my secret, early morning rendezvous' with Sir Conn in the seclusion of the garden's shrubbery. I supposed it would and I regretted this. But I knew Sir Conn was a resourceful young man and I hoped with all my heart that he'd work out an alternative that allowed us to spend a few illicit minutes together away from the prying eyes of his fellow overseers. But I realised this could be difficult; I would just have to wait and see. That night I rested in the security if my cage and thought about tomorrow. I'd heard enough of the conversation between my Master and Claymore Jackson to know I would be used as a heavy duty draft slave. The thought of this disturbed me. Obviously, I knew what awaited me. I have observed these slave teams working innumerable times and in my boyhood they'd always fascinated me. But as an adult, I'd never paid them too much attention. Now my mind was dredging up countless images from the past. And these troubled me. I knew that this next phase of my training was to be especially onerous. And I knew that the next six weeks or so would be particularly wretched ones for me. After my day's toil, I was bone-achingly tired and I wanted to sleep. But it was hard to settle down; the nocturnal activities of my fellow slaves disrupted my early attempts at rest. I have learned to wait patiently as they exhausted themselves. It often intrigued me where they found the extra energy for their night time frolics; surely, like me, their daytime labours left them worn out. But I supposed the sexual urge - even in a tired slave - is too powerful to ignore and the need for sexual release too strong to be denied. So in the gathering night-time gloom of our stables, I watched voyeuristically and listened to the carnal sights and sounds being played out all around me. By this time, I had become used to the animal like grunts, groans, belching and farting of my fellows as they indulged in their sexual exploits. I looked to where Pollux was lying alongside his "protector", a burly brute of slave who'd eventually won out over all those who'd initially fought over him. Despite my initial dislike of Pollux, I was glad that he no longer had to put up with the depredations that had been so much a part of his first few nights in the stables. Now he had the protection of a dominant male and could sleep secure in the knowledge that no one would molest him. The past six weeks had also wrought changes in Pollux. He'd lost the over preening arrogance and the swagger that had annoyed me so much on our first encounter at Schuster and Hanson's Slave Dealership. They'd been replaced with timidity and a willingness to please. Physically, his body showed the effects of his new life. Gone was the well-groomed slave I remembered. The smooth, sleek body was now leaner, stringier and more muscle defined than before. His skin had been darkened to a deep tan and his hair grew in lank, matted strands. His chin was covered in stubble and his formerly hairless chest and limbs were now covered in his sweat-matted hair. And he showed the effects of his labours. His back and ass bore the crissed- crossed pattern of the whip that is the hallmark of a common field slave. Even as I watched, Pollux's protector stirred himself and wordlessly, delivered a stinging slap to Pollux's ass. Immediately, with almost robotic acquiescence, Pollux rose from the straw and placed himself on all fours, spread his legs wide and offered his ass to his slave master. I watched as the slave mounted Pollux and thrust into him. Using his arms to brace himself against the wild thrusting of the cock buried deep within him, Pollux waited impassively for the climax of this latest coupling. I'd been witness to this several times before. Indeed, Pollux is frequently used by the slave. In all probability this scene will be repeated in the early hours of the morning before they are taken out to their labours. It always seemed to me that Pollux was used with callous indifference. And there didn't appear to be any joy in this latest coupling. The scene being played out before me was cold, mechanical and very one-sided; any spontaneity on Pollux's part had been replaced with passivity. I wondered whether he derived any pleasure from this or did he see it as a duty. Did he see it as a fee to be paid for his protection against any possible tormentor and from the abuses he'd suffered initially? Pollux remained silent as he was ridden hard. I watched the clenching and unclenching of the slave's powerful buttocks as he ploughed deeper into Pollux and I heard the animal sounds of his pleasure. Finally, with a triumphant shout, he climaxed and then spent; he collapsed over Pollux to slowly recover. Docilely, Pollux waited for the cock within him to wilt and for it to be withdrawn. He'd been well trained to serve his "slave master". After some minutes, the slave withdrew from Pollux and with a loud dismissive slap to his ass indicated he was finished with him. Pollux was free to lie down and rest secure in the embrace of his protector. And my own tiredness overwhelmed me and I fell into a deep, restful sleep. All too soon I was awakened to a new day and new labours. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The light of the new day was just a hint on the eastern horizon when Sir Conn awoke me and released me from my cage. We followed the usual pattern and I was taken to the latrine area to void my bladder and bowels before he gave me the first of my two meals for the day. Then, instead of heading towards La Fort's stately home and the water-wheel, Sir Conn lead me by my neck chain in the opposite direction towards the area where the ponies and the heavy duty draft slaves are stabled. It is some distance from the slave barracks which have been my home for the past six weeks and it took us all of ten to fifteen minutes to reach our destination. As a consequence of this, Claymore Jackson and Sir Conn will decide to move my security cage from the slave barracks to the stables which will become my permanent home for the remainder of my stay. Of course, I wasn't told of their decision and it came as a surprise to me when, at the end of the day, I was housed in the stables rather than the barracks. Already the stables were a hive of activity as the drafts were yoked together and harnessed to their drays. And as we approached, I saw that Jake has been scrubbed down, oiled and harnessed to his trap ready to be driven to Claymore's residence. Jake stood in sharp contrast to the teams of draft slaves. He had been scrubbed clean and the sun's first rays glinted on his oiled torso. This play of light and shadow on his impressive physique highlighted his muscularity. Like Norge, Jake is a superb pony and that morning I caught a glimpse of myself in another four and a half months' time. Jake's head was closely cropped and his faced shaved to match his smooth, hairless body. The highly polished, black harness with its silver trim hugged his upper body in a snug fitting embrace that threw into relief the different muscle groups of his powerful frame. Even as I watched a groom climbed into the trap and gave the order for Jake to `walk-on". Obediently, Jake moved forward and as the whip was applied to his ass, he set off at a brisk trot to begin his day's labours. I would catch further glimpses of Jake throughout the day as he took Claymore Jackson on his daily rounds of inspection. But there was to be no scrubbing down or oiling of my body. As a draft, I was to be left as unkempt as the other wretches in the team to which I was assigned. This was the breaking of new ground for Sir Conn and me. For my part I was uncertain of what was to happen and Sir Conn was equally as uncertain as to what he should do with me. But he was as resourceful as always and led me to the stable-master, Regis Carlisle, who, I would in future, address as Sir Regis. As stable-master, Sir Regis is in charge of all the ponies and heavy duty draft slaves. He is responsible for the well-being of his charges; their continuing good health and of their ability to work at full production. Sir Regis was a recent employee - Lucien Barrois had employed him during his grandfather's final illness. He'd come highly recommended and carrying excellent references from past employers. All these attested to him being a stern taskmaster and this was a quality Lucien had always looked for in his overseers. And as Lucien, he hadn't disappointed me; he was a strict disciplinarian and the labour output from the slaves in his charge showed a dramatic increase under his stewardship. In fact, only a week or so before my own enslavement, I'd rewarded him with a fat, productivity bonus and a sizeable increase in his salary to show my gratitude to him. He was most profuse in his thanks to me and promised that the work-output would increase even further. I supposed I was about to see if Regis Carlisle had kept that promise. In theory, Regis Carlisle is answerable to Claymore Jackson as the plantation manager and head overseer but in practise he is subject only to himself. Claymore's duties are all encompassing and he doesn't have the time to attend to the minutiae of the day to day activities of the plantation. Some things need to be left in the capable hands of his subordinates. And there is no one more capable than the stable-master; as I am to discover over the next six weeks. Sir Regis is of course black and I recalled he is thirty years old although his handsome face looks much younger. Despite his youthful appearance, he does possess that air of authority that I now see is the hallmark of all La Fort's black overseers. It's paradoxical that Lucien Barrois had never noticed this quality in his black overseers yet the slave Rafe is very well aware of this aspect of their nature. As Rafe, I had become aware that authority is an inherent component in the black man's psyche. And my association with Sir Conn has demonstrated to me that authority in a black man is synonymous with firm discipline and stern punishment. My time spent on the water-wheel under Sir Conn's control had given me new insights into my former black employees. Each morning, as I knelt before him in the quiet seclusion of the shrubbery, I succumbed to his authority and submitted to his use of me as an instrument of pleasure and sexual relief. And each day, as I watched Sir Conn plunge naked into the cooling waters of the irrigation channel, I gained an appreciation of his body and the sheer physicality of the black man overwhelmed my senses. Day by day, as I descended further into my slavery and my acceptance of myself as a slave grew, I began to see Sir Conn as a vastly superior being; one to be feared and obeyed, respected and deferred to at all times. Given that I was a white slave and Sir Conn was a black overseer, it was inevitable that I would grow to see all black men as my superiors. And so it was with Sir Regis that morning as I stood before him in humble submission and waited for his command. As Sir Regis and Sir Conn conversed, I surreptitiously `inventoried' both my black superiors. Of course, Regis Carlisle is older by far than Sir Conn and yet he cut a fine figure in his tight fitting uniform of pale blue, open necked, short sleeved, polo shirt and denim trousers. He wore highly glossed, black, riding boots with jangling, silver spurs which added a flamboyant touch to his appearance and the coiled whip and punishment cane attached to his belt gave him a fearsome air of authority. His garments did nothing to hide his impressive physique; in fact they enhanced the wide shoulders, the narrow waist and the bulging biceps of his upper body and his strong, muscular legs were clearly evident beneath his tight legged denims. With each breath, his chest stretched the fabric of his shirt and highlighted the insignia of Barrois coat-of-arms on the left breast. Quite obviously, my Master hadn't gotten around to replacing this with his own insignia; the one he had seared into my flesh six weeks ago and which marked me as a Maratier slave. "What you looking at boy?" Sir Regis's question took me by surprise and the sudden slap to my face startled me. I was covered by my confusion and I stammered out my apology. "Nothing, sir! I'm sorry sir!" "What you mean by nothing? Are you calling me ... nothing?" My ill-considered reply had trapped me. How do I extricate myself? "Sir! I meant no offence to you. I am sorry sir." "Being sorry doesn't cut it with me boy. Bend over and get your ass in the air. DO IT! NOW!" As I scrambled into position, I continued to say "I'm sorry, sir" but Sir Regis wasn't receptive to my heartfelt apologies. "Grab hold of your ankles and brace yo'self boy! I'm about to cane your ass good and proper." I blanched at Sir Regis words and I heard myself pleading. "Please sir! I meant no offence to you, sir! I'm sorry sir!" "Shut your mouth, boy." I braced myself and trembling, I tried to prepare my mind for Sir Regis's cane. How many strokes would he give me? I waited for the sibilant hiss of his cane whistling through the air as it travelled towards to my body. But instead, I heard him ask Sir Conn. "Does this boy give you much trouble, Conn?" "Not too much, Regis. He's normally well behaved and not much trouble." "Did you have to use your cane on him very often?" "No not too often. Mainly, it was just to spur him on ... to make him maintain the pace of the wheel. Anyway I wasn't allowed to be too severe on him. Old man Maratier won't allow him to be permanently marked." "So Claymore Jackson has told me. Why is that? Is he a pet or something?" "I'm not sure about him being a pet. Could be? I understand the slave is here to be trained as pony for Guy Maratier's use." "Then, I'd better make sure I don't damage his ass." "How many strokes are you going to give him, Regis?" "Five! That's normal for me. Unless the slave is guilty of a major infraction of the rules. Then the punishment is determined by the severity of the crime. But in this case it's only minor so I won't be too hard on him. It's more to show him who's the boss and let him know that I won't take any nonsense from him. By the way, the boy has a cute ass. It's almost a pity to mark it with the cane. Tell me honestly Conn. Have you ever used his ass?" "No! Never!" Sir Conn's reply was almost a protest. "Never? Then why are you blushing? I seem to have touched a raw nerve? Have I caught you out?" "His ass is out of bounds by Guy Maratier's orders." "So then, you've never used him for sex? If I'd been in your place, I'd have been sorely tempted. Answer truthfully, Conn." "Well, I have used his mouth. Guy Maratier never said that was off limits." "WOW! What was that like? "HOT! He's good at sucking cock. I'm going to miss it." "Why are you going to miss it? What's changed?" "Well I always took him into a secluded part of the garden where we weren't seen by anyone. Now that he's here, I guess that's an end to that." "Not necessarily. Look Conn, I'm sure we can organise somewhere quiet and private in the stables for you. And of course, I intend to take advantage of him too. I'd be a fool to pass up on that." "Thanks Regis. That'd be cool! I'd appreciate that. I'd become accustomed to using Dumb-ass at my leisure." "Dumb-ass?" "That's the name I call him by, Regis. I only ever call him Dumb-ass." "I like it, Conn. But that isn't his real name is it? Of course we all know he was once Lucien Barrois but what is his slave name?" "He's called Rafe but it's not a name I'd ever call him by. I don't hold with giving a whitey slave a name. `Boy' or `slave' is all that's needed. Or in his case' Dumb-ass' is good enough for him." "I agree totally! I see you're a man after my own heart. What was your opinion of Lucien Barrois as our employer?" "He was an arrogant prick! He was always walking around as though had a stick rammed up his ass and talking down to everyone. I disliked him and what happened to him served him right. I much prefer him as a slave?" "And what are your views about our new employer? How do you feel him?" "They're the same as I feel about Dumb-ass. And I particularly hate that little prick Etienne. I hope he ends up just like Dumb-ass one day. I'd enjoy putting my cane to skinny, white ass. He follows me around like a shadow and I can't shake him off. That annoys me. But Mr Jackson tells me that I should ignore this and stay on the right side of him as he's the heir to all this. And what about you, Regis? What are your feelings about the new boss?" "Much the same as yours Conn. Although I haven't had much to do with either Guy Maratier or his son. I haven't come face to face with them yet. All my dealings with Guy Maratier are done through Claymore Jackson, who, by the way, has told me you're to work with me to gain experience in the stables. Has Claymore mentioned this to you?" "No! That's news to me. But I was wondering where I'd work once Dumb-ass was placed in a team." "Well Claymore told me he wants you working here so that you can still take care of this boy. I understand you've been responsible for feeding him and securing him safely away for the night and that's to continue." "Cool! That suits me. I guess I'll need to work around your timetable and requirements." "That won't be a problem, Conn. We'll sort out the details later. But I've kept Dumb-ass waiting long enough. It's time for his punishment." I had been temporarily forgotten as the two overseers voiced their dislike of Lucien Barrois and the Maratier father and son. I hadn't minded; after all I was spared the cane for as long as they talked. But I knew my five strokes of the cane had only been delayed and not abandoned. And as they finished talking, I braced myself for them. From my topsy- turvy view of proceedings, I saw Sir Regis take up his position behind me and I took a deep breath in anticipation of what was to follow. All my senses were heightened as I listened for the whine of the cane. And I didn't have long to wait. I heard the cane's sibilant whisper followed almost immediately by the loud `thwack' as it landed on my upturned, unprotected buttocks. There were a few seconds of silence between that sound and my yelp of pain; this was the time it took for the pain to crash through into my consciousness. Sir Regis followed through four more times with his cane and four more times I vocalised my pain. And then my ordeal was over and Sir Regis ordered me to. "Stand up and face us boy." I did as instructed and faced the two overseers. Ruefully, I used both hands to rub my ass in a futile attempt to ease its pain. Since I became a slave, I have been caned a number of times and by an increasing number of people including the Court's overseers at my initial enslavement and since then by Cato, Major Swanston's brute slave, Pug, the slaver, Lionel Schuster and even Ben, my erstwhile body slave has used his steward's cane of authority on me. And over the past six weeks I have been subject to Sir Conn's frequent chastisement. And now I can add Sir Regis to this growing list. Very early on, Norge had told me the probability of punishment was inevitable in slave's life. He'd told me to prepare myself for this and that I will have to `grin and bear' it. That day, as I gently rubbed my aching ass, I'm was neither grinning nor bearing it. My ass was aflame with its pain and it was hot to the touch. "Get your hands away from your sorry, white ass, boy and stand at display." That day I gained respect for Sir Regis through his use of the cane on me and I hurried to comply with his instructions. I listened attentively as he spoke to me. "Pay attention boy to what I have to say!" Sir Regis spoke directly to me. "I have simple rules for the slaves in my charge. Can you guess what they are?" How was I to answer? Was Sir Regis setting a trap for me and if I gave the wrong answers, would I be further punished? But his question was rhetorical and he didn't require my answer. Instead he went on to say. "When you were Lucien Barrois what did you demand of your slaves?" The answer was patently obvious. As Lucien Barrois, I'd required my slaves to be work hard in my interests. I guess this was the paramount requirement but to that could be added total obedience to my will and to all instructions given to them by my overseers. As I mulled over this, Sir Regis impatiently demanded that I answer. "Come on boy! I'm waiting for your answer. QUICKLY!" "Sir! As a master, I demanded that my slaves work hard in my interests and that they were obedient at all times." "Good boy! And as a slave what is now required of you?" "Sir! That I work hard in my Master's interest and obey all instructions given to me by either my Master or his overseers." "Right on! What I demand from you is to listen attentively to all instructions given to you, to obey them without hesitation and to work the hardest that you can. Now repeat them back to me." "Sir! I must listen to all orders given to me; obey them without question or hesitation and to work hard in my Master's best interests." "Good boy! To sum up then - all you need to remember is to listen, to obey and to work. Those are my three golden rules and I'll demand them from you. Break any of them and you'll be punished. Do you understand?" "Yes sir! I understand, sir." "I've got to say, Conn. You've trained him well. He's seems docile enough." "As I mentioned to you before, Regis. He's easy to handle and he does work hard. Of course, there are times when you need to ride his ass to keep him moving. But that isn't all that often." "You're speaking figuratively of course, Conn. You never did get ride his ass in the practical sense from what you told me earlier. It's a pity about that. Dumb-ass, as you call him, has a very cute rear. It reminds me of my pony, Honky's ass." "You've got your own pony, Regis?" "Yep! It's one of the perks of the job. I never walk when I can drive. I have my own pony and trap which you'll get to see soon. The pony's name is Honky. When we take Dumb-ass out into the fields, we'll drive Honky out in my trap." "That's cool! I'm used to seeing Mr Jackson driving his pony Jake and I got to say I wish it was me driving him. What's it like having you own pony? It must be great to have that control over a slave and to use him just the same as you would a horse." "It is Conn! It's a great feeling to have a white boy pulling you around behind him. You'll love it I'm sure. Look, if you're up for it - I'll let you drive Honky later." "Really? Thank you Regis, I'd love to have a go at driving Honky. And by the way, I love the name you've given him. Honky is so appropriate for white slave. " "Thank you, Conn. But your name for Rafe is no less appropriate. Dumb-ass! I love it. I wonder how the slave feels about being called Dumb-ass." "Does it matter how he feels, Regis?" "No of course it doesn't. I'm just amused by the thought that you have given the once high and mighty Lucien Barrois such a demeaning name and he can't do a damn thing about it." I found the name "Dumb-ass" demeaning - I still do - and I was affronted each time Sir Regis and Sir Conn called me by it. I seethed inwardly at this insult to my intelligence but I couldn't offer any protest. As Sir Regis had just said - "I can't do a damn thing about it". Of course, I'm better educated than either Sir Regis or Sir Conn, but that was of no consequence. They were my superiors by virtue of being free whereas I was a slave and added to this was their own deeply ingrained sense of their black superiority. Then, almost as though he was reading my thoughts, Sir Regis gave the knife in my wounded pride one final twist. "Tell me boy, why do you think Sir Conn calls you Dumb-ass?" The question was loaded and fraught with danger for me. Should I give the wrong answer, and anger the stable-master, then I could be punished. My pride would dearly have liked to retaliate but I recalled the recent experience when I'd replied to a leading question put to me by my boyhood friend, Miles in the presence of my Master. On that occasion, I'd yielded to my pride and answered sarcastically. I wasn't anxious to repeat that mistake again and so I swallowed my pride and gave an answer that I hoped would be the right one. "Sir, it's because I'm an inferior white slave sir, and I'm not as smart as Sir Conn, sir. As my black superior, he is cleverer than me, sir." "But you didn't always think that way, did you, slave?" "Sir, I'm afraid I don't understand your question." "Well as Lucien Barrois you felt you were superior to us. Isn't that so?" I needed to tread carefully for I was on shaky ground. I knew where Sir Regis was taking me with his leading questions. He was trying to trap me into admitting that I once considered myself superior to him and my other overseers. Frantically, I searched my mind for a way out of my predicament but none presented itself and I stood mute. "I asked you a question boy! As the former Master, didn't you think you were superior to everyone else? Answer me and answer truthfully! And I'll know if you're being truthful. " I had no alternative but to answer... "Yes sir!"... But my answer was barely audible and it earned me a stinging slap to the right side of my face from Sir Regis. "SPEAK UP. BOY! We didn't hear you." "YES SIR!" "YES SIR! WHAT?" Sir Regis had cut me a large slice of humble pie and he was determined I would eat it and not leave any crumbs. I stared past him to where Sir Conn stood and I saw his obvious amusement at my discomfiture. The two overseers relished belittling me both as their former employer and now as a white slave under their control. I was caught on the horns of a dilemma. How should I answer? Sir Regis had warned me that I must speak truthfully and that he'd know if I was lying. Instinctively, I knew the answer he required from me and so, once more, I swallowed my pride and told him of Lucien Barrois's supposed disdain for his black overseers. However, this wasn't strictly true. Lucien had certainly regarded his overseers as his employees but in fairness to him, he'd never judged them on the issue of their race. Indeed he'd always held them in high regard - as had his grandfather - and there were many whites who ranked lower in his esteem than his black overseers. And he'd regarded himself as an enlightened employer. He'd always paid wages well above the award and all his overseers had received more than generous productivity bonuses. Blacks had always been a part of his life He'd grown up surrounded by them and he'd spent much of his boyhood in the company of Claymore Jackson. So while it is true to say Lucien had never socialised with his black overseers - but this was more a reflection of his retiring personality rather than snobbery - he saw them in no less a light than most of his white acquaintances. As the slave Rafe, I was horrified to hear how low I ranked in the estimation of La Fort's black overseers. Sir Regis had demanded I answer his leading question. Hopefully, I gave him the answer he was looking for. "Yes sir! As Lucien Barrois, I saw myself as superior to everyone else." I hoped this answer would satisfy him. However, it didn't and he pressed me still further. "And you saw yourself as a white superior to the black man? You regarded all your black overseers as your inferiors, isn't that so? Remember to answer me truthfully, boy." I had nowhere to go other than to agree with Sir Regis. I feared the consequences of disagreeing with him. "Yes sir! I saw myself as a white superior to my black overseers." "Is that still the case? How do you see yourself now, boy?" "No sir." I bowed my head in defeat. "Sir, I am an inferior white slave under the control of my superior black overseers." The words of my capitulation left a bitter taste in my mouth but that was preferable to another session with Sir Regis's cane. Sir Conn greeted my answer with a loud whoop of victory and triumphantly pumped his clenched fist into the air above his head. Sir Regis's response as he spoke was more subdued and pragmatic. "Good boy!" Firstly, he congratulated me and then he commented - whether it was to Sir Conn or I wasn't clear. "The slave now knows his place in the scheme of things." Throughout this exchange, my attention had been focused on Sir Regis and Sir Conn. However, during the lulls that didn't involve me in their conversation, I was partially aware of the noisy, feverish activity taking place in the background of the stable-yard. I'd watched as the heavy duty draft teams were made ready for their day's labours. Their overseers separated each team of ten into five pairs and placed them on their knees one behind the other. No time was wasted in getting the drafts ready; moving swiftly from couple to couple the naked, stable slaves fitted each of the drafts with a set of blinders that focused the wretched slave's vision to the immediate front and laid a heavy wooden, double yoke across the shoulders of each pair. I watched in horror as each team was placed in chains and led to a flat topped dray and harnessed into place. My senses began to reel for I knew this was to be my fate for the next six weeks. Harvesting of the crops was in full swing and the drays were needed in the fields without delay. I cringed as the draft slaves were exhorted to "HYUP! HYUP!" to get the drays started and I flinched as they were cruelly whipped to keep them moving. But I was puzzled. I thought I was to work in such a team. If this was so, why hadn't I been placed in one? Within a few minutes, all was quiet within the stable-yard and the only sounds were the voices of Sir Regis and Sir Conn as they discussed me. I waited, head bowed, expectantly on their next move. Then I was distracted by the scrunching noise of wheels in loose gravel and looking up I saw a groom tether a young pony and trap to a hitching ring set in the wall of the stables. I wasn't familiar with this pony. Certainly he wasn't in the stables during Lucien Barrois's time otherwise I'd have recognised him. Quite obviously he was new to the stables and I wondered if this was Sir Regis's pony, Honky. And as if to answer my question Sir Regis told Sir Conn that it was indeed his pony and trap. "C'mon Conn. Let me introduce you to Honky." And as the two overseers walked over to where Honky is tethered, Sir Regis turned and ordered me. "You too Dumb-ass. Follow on but keep four paces behind us as a mark of respect for your betters." Honky was to say the least unusual; he was unlike any of the others ponies with which I was familiar. I estimated his age at somewhere around nineteen or perhaps twenty and he had all the hallmarks of a first class pony. Honky was tall and rangy and well-muscled without being excessively so. His long, powerful legs exuded power and strength; he possessed an impressive upper body with wide shoulders that tapered down to a trim, narrow waist. The outline of his clearly defined chest muscles - each dominated by a large red nipple - curved upwards under his strong arms and the flat plain of his stomach was broken up by the outlines of his abdominals centred on the deep indent of his navel. His body was clean shaven and the absence of his pubic hair accentuated his heavy, low-hanging balls and thick, meaty cock which were encircled by a shining chrome cinch that matched perfectly the collar around his neck. Unusually, Honky wore blinkers and I was surprised by this. To my knowledge blinders were only used on the heavy duty drays and I supposed this this must have been a personal whim of his driver. Certainly, I'd never driven Norge with blinkers and I knew that Claymore Jackson didn't use them on Jake. But even more unusual was Honky's hair. Most ponies wear a simple buzz-cut cropped close to the skull. But Honky's was a radical departure from this norm. The hairstyle was reminiscent to those I'd seen worn by Native Americans in old movies. I believe it is called a Mohawk or some such name. Honky's head was devoid of all hair except for a four inch wide strip of black hair that ran from the middle of his front hairline up over the centre of his scalp and down to the nape of his neck. It was closely cropped at the front and trained to grow longer at the back. This was suggestive of a horse's mane and to my mind it looked grotesque. It was an affront to Honky's dignity and I wondered about the warped mind that could do this to a fellow man. Then of course I realised that Honky wasn't a man. Like me he was a slave. But it was demeaning and I wondered about a free man's callousness and cruel capacity to degrade and humiliate a slave in such a manner. I really felt that Honky's manhood had been desecrated by so thoughtless an action. At our approach, the pony became restless and began to fidget in nervous anticipation; as he did so I heard the creak and rattle of his harness. Impatiently, Sir Regis barked out an instruction to him. "STEADY, HONKY! STEADY! Settle down and stop fidgeting or you'll fell my crop on your ass." Instantly, the pony obeyed Sir Regis's instruction and quietened down. I looked at Honky and I saw the sad sorrowful expression on his young face; it displayed the full burden of his slavery. I was overcome with pity for him. He was so young and vulnerable and he'd been turned into an obscene caricature of something neither human nor animal. And despite my own precarious situation, I felt anger at the cruel hand that fate had dealt him. It seemed so unfair. There was something vaguely familiar about Honky but the mane flowing out of his scalp and down over his shoulders was distracting and made him almost unrecognisable. I supposed that I, as Lucien Barrois, would have bought this slave at some stage; although I don't remember when. But then Lucien was always buying slaves to labour in his fields and so I'd have no special reason to recognise him. And so in a very real sense, I was partly responsible for his current condition. "Well Conn! This is Honky, my personal pony. What do you think of him?" "Well Regis......," Sir Conn hesitated in answering, `... he's unusual!" "You're referring to his mane, Conn?" "Yes Regis. He's the first pony I've seen with a mane. Old man Maratier's pony and Mr Jackson's pony, Jake don't have manes." "You don't like it, Conn?" "No, it's not that I don't like it, Regis. It's just taken me by surprise, that's all. Whose idea was it?" "It was all mine, Conn! It was my idea. I wanted to put my unique stamp on my personal pony. I wanted him to have something that identified him as mine." "Regis, I have to say, it is unique. So why did you choose a mane for Honky?" "It goes back to when I was a kid. I remember seeing real horses of the four legged type being ridden around. I loved the way their long manes flowed in the wind as they ran. And I wanted that for Honky. I like watching as the breeze ruffles his mane and how it flops from shoulder to shoulder as he runs. Actually it's hard to say which I prefer looking at the most - Honky's mane or his ass as he runs. But you'll see what I mean when we take Dumb-ass out into the fields shortly. But check him out. Run your hands over him." Peripherally, I was aware that Sir Conn accepted Sir Regis's invitation to `check out' Honky. It seemed to me that the pony quivered with nervous anxiety as the young overseer's hands swept down over the rounded contours of his chest and the ridged plain of his stomach to his cock and balls. As Sir Conn cupped his balls in one hand, he used the other to stroke the penis into a thick, volatile erection. As the thin, viscous thread of his pre cum threaded its way ground wards, Honky once more began to fidget like an unruly colt. Obviously, he was unused to such intimate inspection although I'd be surprised if his driver didn't submit him to regular close quarter examinations. As Lucien Barrois, I'd always subjected Norge to similar inspections at least once a day. I recalled that at first, Norge had reacted in a similar way to Honky; while his anger flecked eyes showed his outrage and his limbs trembled in impotent protest, he was powerless to stop me. Initially, this pleased me; it highlighted my control of Norge both as my slave and my pony. Inevitably, as the bond between us grew, Norge learned to relax and to stand docilely as I, or any other interested party who had my permission to do so, inspected him. And it was obvious that Norge even came to enjoy these routine inspections. At the mere touch of my hand - or any hand -on his cock, Norge would always show both his eagerness and excitement. That day, it seemed that Honky hadn't yet arrived at that level of acceptance. Involuntarily, he drew back from Sir Conn's touch. But Sir Conn wasn't to be thwarted; he tightened his grip on the cock in his hand and used it to steady Honky as, at the same time, he ordered him to. "STAND STILL! DAMN YOU!" Honky wasn't prepared for Sir Regis's angry endorsement of Sir Conn's spoken command. The unhappy pony cried out as Sir Regis's whip wrapped itself around his upper body. "You were told to stand steady. I warned you of what would happen if you didn't." And to re-enforce his admonishment, Sir Regis applied his whip to Honky one more time; this time to his ass. This treatment of Honky had a salutary effect upon me. For the very first time, I truly witnessed the control La Fort's black overseers had over their white charges. Of course, Lucien Barrois was aware of this but only marginally so. His interest in his white slaves was limited to their capacity to work hard and to return a profit. How that was achieved he left to his black overseers and he never bothered to involve himself in such mundane affairs. As the slave Rafe, I had spent my first six weeks working on the plantation insulated from all this. Assigned to work alone on the waterwheel and left in the sole care of Sir Conn -albeit with an occasional visit from Claymore Jackson - I was isolated from the severe regime that governed the lives of all my fellow slaves. That day, for the first time, I was exposed to it and I became very afraid. That day, I witnessed the disdain -or was it contempt - that the black overseers felt for the white slaves whose lives they governed with much severity and rigour. And frighteningly, that day I became subject to it too. I was about to discover the true meaning of slavery. Sir Conn continued with his inspection of Honky. Playfully, he ruffled the mane on top of the head and stroked the longer tresses flowing down to the shoulders and made the comparison between their silkiness and the bristly feel of the shorter scalp hair. Next his hands moved outwards over the shoulders and down the gentle concave of Honky's back to the flaring curves of his taut, rounded buttocks. Here Sir Conn paused to take in the blue black bruises of earlier beatings, the fading pink stripes of more recent ones and the livid, red whip stripe angrily delivered just a few moments ago. As Sir Conn used his index finger to trace out this latest stripe, I noticed Honky wince visibly. Clearly it is very sore. "Regis! Honky seems to have had his ass beaten a lot. Is he troublesome?" "No Conn! He's a well behaved boy and doesn't cause me much trouble at all. It's just that I have a penchant to see stripes on a slave's ass. I think it enhances their appearance and you'd have to agree that stripes show up so well on a white ass. It's like Dumb-ass here. Let's look at his striped ass. Boy, go and stand alongside of the pony." Obediently, I did as I was instructed and took up a position alongside of Honky with my back to the two overseers. "Hands behind you head boy," Sir Regis commands, "and be quick about it. Now straighten up and square those shoulders." I was very aware that my ass was on show and that it invited Sir Regis and Sir Conn to make critical comparisons between it and Honky's. "From where I'm standing there's not much difference between the two of them Conn. Both asses are very similar in shape and size and both are as tight as drums I should think. Has Dumb-ass's ass been used to your knowledge?" "No Regis! Old man Maratier has put out it strictly off limits. I suspect he's saving it for himself. And to `protect' it, the slave sleeps in a special security cage where the other slaves can't get to him." "Well Conn, you've spent the last six weeks with him. Tell me, have you ever been tempted?" "Often Regis! And if you had seen him straining at the capstan, you'd have been too." "But you resisted temptation, Conn. That must have been hard?" "It was, Regis. But I wanted to keep my job and so I left him alone." "Well strictly speaking that's not true, Conn. You said earlier that you used his mouth." "That's true! But using his mouth for a BJ isn't like using his ass and so I didn't consider I was breaking any rules. Although, I did take care that we weren't caught." "That was wise of you Conn. If they'd known, some of the other overseers would have had their noses out of joint and resented you for your good luck." "Why? Why would they? Don't they get to use the slaves? I thought it was one of the perks of the job that you get to use a slave for sex." "And it is, Conn! But think about it. Would you want to use one of the field slaves? They're filthy and they reek. Some of them would make your stomach heave. I wouldn't want to use them. That's why they resent me using Honky who's scrubbed down twice a day. I hear them grumbling to Claymore Jackson about it. He has told me to be discreet and take Honky to some secluded spot away from envious eyes." "And do you take him to a secluded spot? Do you use him regularly?" "Yeah! Every morning on my first rounds, I pull Honky into a shady, resting place off the track. I unhitch him and have him down on his hands and knees. Honky's gotten to look forward to this and as we get closer to the spot he really starts to sprint ahead. I reckon I could blindfold him and he'd find his way to it." "Sounds a bit like Dumb-ass. It was obvious that he enjoyed our time in the shrubbery too." "I'll tell you what, Conn. When we take Rafe out to the fields, we'll stop by at my `resting spot' and you can use Honky and I can have Dumb-ass give me a BJ. What do you say? Are you up for it?" "Right on! I'm game Regis!" I listened in horror at the overseers' plans for us. Certainly, Sir Conn told the truth when he said I enjoyed my few, illicit moments with him in the quiet seclusion of the garden shrubbery. And I don't doubt the same is true for Honky. Both of us have learned to take our pleasure when it is offered to us by our respective overseers - and really we had no other alternative but to submit to them. However, these were done discreetly and in private. Now Sir Regis and Sir Conn planned to use us communally in front of one another. I was appalled by this prospect! It spoke of the utter contempt that both black overseers felt for us. Full of dread, I waited to hear more of their plans for us. Fortuitously, the conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Claymore Jackson. He pulled back on his reins and with a loud "Whoa boy!" he halted Jake alongside Honky and me. To be continued......... You can access all the Jean-Christophe stories at by joining the archive group at http://groups.yahoo.co./group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

DUPED Chapter 6 "Processed into Slavery" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): December 2012 Read all my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories The characters and events in this story are purely fictitious and belong to the writer's imagination. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures." Chapter 6: "Processed into Slavery" Anwar and Malik waste little time in processing me into my new slavery. Malik instructs the two guards who hold me between them in a vicelike grip to take me to the preparation room. I am seized by blind panic as I struggle to free myself. I beg Anwar to set me free but he is deaf to my pleas and if anything, my pitiful entreaties amuse him; he laughs loudly at my predicament. I dig my toes into the deep pile of the carpet trying to find a firm toehold as I strain back from my captors. As I wrestle with them, I see Miguel standing silently to one side watching the events of my enslavement unfolding before him. Obviously he finds the scene arousing; his hard erection pokes out at an elevated angle from his heaving belly. In sharp contrast, my own erection has dissipated and I am left with a limp-dick while all thoughts of fucking Miguel have long gone and they have been replaced by my growing panic. I wonder what he is thinking. Does he see a parallel between what is happening to me and his own enslavement twelve months ago? He'd said he'd been betrayed by an Arab "friend" much as Anwar has now betrayed me. Surely he would understand the fear and panic I feel? Desperately, I look around the room for a sign of sympathy - no matter how small - but everywhere I am met with cold, hostile responses from the Arabs. Only Miguel shows any sign of compassion; I see sorrow for my plight in his troubled eyes. I am surprised by this as I remember that Miguel has his own problems. Like me, he is to be sold on Saturday. The overseers haul me - literally - from the viewing-room out across the viewing salon and through a door into the inner regions of Malik's slave-market. We move from the luxury of the previous rooms into a drab area devoid of any colour and I find myself being bundled down a long passage-way towards a door at the far end. I look to see if Anwar is following. I hope he is as I'm sure if I appeal to his better judgement he'll see this is all a dreadful mistake and order my release. But he's not following and there's no sign of Anwar, Malik or Mustapha. Only Hussein accompanies the overseers and I'm not to know that the three older Arabs have retired to an inner courtyard to partake of refreshments while I am prepared for their inspection. Hussein has volunteered to oversee my transformation from a free man into a slave. Hussein opens the door and stands back to give the overseers elbow space to wrestle me through the doorway and into a small room of sinister appearance. Terrified, I look around the room desperately searching for some means of improbable escape. However, there isn't any and my eyes focus on the room and its contents. Unlike the previous rooms I'd been in, the walls here are unadorned and are made of solid, unpainted stone blocks whose drab greyness matches the bare, stone floor. The walls and the floor are covered with dark stains and I wonder about these. Fearfully, I wonder if they are bloodstains. I'm not to know they were made by the fear-induced voiding of the bladders and bowels of countless, hapless slaves who have been "processed" in this room. Spaced strategically around the room are several timber benches and trestles whose sinister uses I can only guess at. Attached to them are chains and leather straps and it doesn't require much imagination to know they are used to restrain some helpless victim as his captors work on making his body ready for slavery. On the walls are racks of implements that make my blood run cold. I can only guess at their cruel uses and they remind me of the mediaeval torture chambers you see on tours of ancient, European castles or in some B-grade horror movie. The overseers hustle me into the middle of the room and force me to my knees. I look around wildly, wondering what is to happen next. Hussein and the two overseers talk in Arabic and there is much laughter. Even though they ignore me, I know instinctively their conversation is about me and I sense their gloating at my fate. Suddenly, I am overwhelmed and break into wild sobbing and pleading. I fall onto all fours and crawl to Hussein and plead with him. "Please Hussein, please! Help me, please? I thought we were friends. Why is this happening to me?" Hussein places his right foot against my ass and uses it to propel me forward onto my nose. "Silence; how dare you speak without permission! You thought we were friends? Slave, it was presumptuous of you to ever think that we could be friends." Hussein's tone is full of his contempt for me. "We were never friends and we never could be. How arrogant you Occidentals are to think that the Arab devalues himself to such an extent that he'd be your friend and fawn over you. I could never be friends with a Franj slave." He sneers. "NEVER!" An overseer roughly grabs my shoulders and forces me into a kneeling position and then he towers over me. I feel threatened by his nearness and to my horror; I see that he has armed himself with a long, flexible cane. I shiver from the anticipation that it will inevitably be used on me. How many times in my moments of wild, erotic fantasies have I imagined a Master using his cane to both command and to discipline me? Then I'd shivered uncontrollably with the pleasurable pain of my vivid imagination and always my responsive cock had grown harder ensuring me of a most satisfactory ejaculation. But they'd been mere flights of fantasy and not the real thing. Now, as I see the overseer swish the cane through the air and hear its sibilant hiss, I understand this isn't an erotic dream and that I am now living my past dreams for real. Terrified, I kneel as the overseer shouts at me. "STAY ON YOUR KNEES, BOY! DO IT NOW!" Wild-eyed, I look around me to see what the other overseer is doing. I see him walking towards me carrying a pair of shears similar to those used by farmers to hand shear their sheep and a smaller pair of barber's clippers. Am I to have my hair cropped? Even though I know there'll be little discomfort in having my hair cut, I nevertheless face the loss of my hair with dread. I have a head of thick, unruly hair with a blond fringe that hang down over my forehead - I have been told this give me a boyish look - and I am extremely proud of it; in fact my pride in my hair borders on vanity. I've always lavished great care on my hair and haven't spared any expense in keeping it looking good. Now I'm to lose it and in doing so, I'll also lose my identity as a free man. From now on I'll wear a slave's shameful short crop and my head will be indistinguishable from that of all other slaves. I am now to truly join them in their uniform appearance and share in their naked anonymity. The overseer wastes no time in shearing me. He roughly grabs my hair and begins to hack it off - lock by lock - with his shears. He has little regard for my feelings and strand by strand, he tugs it away from my scalp and cuts. I hear the gentle snip of the shears and I feel my hair gently falling down over my shoulders to the ground. The hair of which I'm so proud now lies on the ground around me and with it is the bitter realisation that never again will it be allowed to grow it so long. My crowning glory is no more. If it was possible for me to see my head, I would be dismayed at the ragged, uneven cut of the shears. But the overseer isn't finished with me yet. He pushes my head forward and runs his clippers over my scalp from the nape of my neck to my front hairline and I'm left with a hair cover of about half an inch. The room's air is cool on my shorn scalp and my head feels strangely denuded. The overseer steps back and slowly circles around me as he surveys his handiwork. Not completely satisfied, he again runs the clippers over my scalp until he is sure that the remaining hair is of uniform length. Hussein crosses the room to where I'm kneeling and inspects me by running his hands over my cropped head. I consider his actions are even more humiliating than the actual cutting off of my hair and my sense of shame is magnified by his comments to the overseers. "It's an excellent job! It's a very good cut and it suits him. Now he looks just the same as all the other Franj slaves in the holding-pens except for his body hair." "Well, he's about to lose it too! That's the next task to perform on him before he is presented to his Master!" They speak in English and I know they do so to taunt me; this mention of "before he is presented to his Master" impresses upon me that I am now a slave. Is it only thirty minutes or less since I was enslaved? How can my life have changed irrevocably in that short time-span; I have gone from a proud, professional, free man to being Anwar's abject slave. Once more the two overseers haul me to my feet and drag over to a long, wooden bench. One takes hold of my upper body under my armpits and the other grabs my feet. Then, struggling in their firm grasp, I am lifted bodily and thrown down on the bench's surface with such force that I am temporarily winded. The bench top feels cold and smooth on my back and ass; I'm not to know that its surface has been worn smooth by the futile struggling and darkened by the body oil - and worse - of all those new slaves who have been processed before me. Hussein steps forward to assist the two overseers. As one holds my feet in a vicelike grip the other stretches my arms over my head and holds them steady as Hussein tightens leather restraints around my wrists. Next, he moves to my feet and as my legs are pulled apart as far as it is anatomically possible he shackles my ankles. I am immobilized and spreadeagled ready for body shaving. Hussein stands over me and looks down disdainfully on my prone body. Instinctively, I struggle in my bonds. My body heaves as I arch my back and pull back on the arm and leg restraints holding me to the bench-top. Hussein reaches down and ruffles my chest hair and maliciously tweaks my sensitive nipples. He laughs at my yelp of outraged discomfort. The touch of his hands makes me struggle that much harder. He uses a finger to trace over the treasure trial that connect s the hair on my chest to my pubes. He pauses long enough to insert a fingertip into the deep indent of my navel as he explores its depths. Next, I feel his hands move in between my thighs as he examines my balls. I arch my back in a futile attempt to escape this new assault on my dignity but he persists. Fearful of injury, I give up the uneven struggle and lie passively as my balls are rolled between his fingers, gently squeezed and "weighed" in his cupped hand. He turns his attention to my tumescent cock which flops on my heaving belly. I feel him stretch it upwards away from my body as a test of its length. I feel his finger mercilessly teasing my piss-slit and despite my best efforts my cock betrays me and I feel the first stirrings of an impending erection. Hussein lightly runs his fingers up and down the sensitive underside of my penis and his exquisite torture quickly brings me to full arousal. I can't see the small, pearl of my precum gleaming at my piss-slit but I am aware of it. Hussein speaks to me. "Slave, it's indeed fortunate for you that you are circumcised. You're to be spared the knife." This is an aspect I'd not thought about. Although, I do recall Anwar once telling me that all uncircumcised, male slaves routinely have their foreskins removed. I remember the rationale he'd given for this cruel practice. It appears that Arabs prefer their male slaves to be "clean-skins" as a visible sign of their servitude. Fortunately, for me, I'd been a victim of infant circumcision; a decision made by my parents and one which, from time to time, I'd deeply resented. Many times, as I progressed through puberty, I looked enviously at the uncircumcised cocks of my companions; somehow the retention of their prepuces marked them as manlier than me in my eyes. I'd often felt cheated that my foreskin had been taken from me and yet, today, I am very grateful that my parents had made that choice shortly after my birth. Hussein moves to my head and examines my eyes and ears. Next, he orders me to open my mouth as he wants to inspect my teeth. I'm feeling rebellious and refuse to obey. He pinches my nostrils together and forces me to breathe through my mouth. As I gasp, I have learned my first lesson in obedience. I understand that a slave is powerless in the in the hands of a determined master. As Hussein inspects me, the two overseers stand and wait until he's finished. Once he is finished, they are ready to begin the messy task of removing all my body hair and to make me "slave smooth" for my Master, Anwar. Each is equipped with hair clippers and scissors and as one begins at my head the second starts at my feet. Nervously, I raise my head to watch what is being done to me. I watch as the overseer working at the top of the bench uses his clippers to shorten the hair on my chest and armpits. At the same time, the second overseer uses his scissors to cut back my pubic hair as close to the skin as possible. No time is waisted in preparing me for their razors and with a few short minutes my body hair has been reduced to prickly stubble. Once the clipping of my hair is finished, buckets of cold water are thrown over me until I am drenched and shivering and not altogether from the shock of the cold water. By now my emotions are raw and my fear is increasing by the minute and these, more than the cold water, make me tremble. Both overseers are holding spray cans of shaving cream - of the type one buys at the supermarket - which they use to liberally coat my torso and limbs. Once the foam has coated my body they begin to shave me. They use the old style cutthroat razor of the type used by barbers. Fearing the worst, I lie perfectly still as the razors glide whisper-quiet over my skin. Nevertheless, I do squirm as my armpits are shaved; I have always been super sensitive in that area and it takes all my willpower not to wriggle. I feel the other razor removing my treasure-trail and my pubes. Tears fill my eyes as I suffer the humiliation at the loss of so obvious a sign of my manhood. I'd always been inordinately proud of my golden pubes which matched the blond hair on my chest and head and I'd always kept them neat and trimmed. Now I am losing them completely as a shameful badge of my new slave status and I feel fingers expertly manoeuvring my cock and balls out of harm's way as the razor does it efficient work. Both overseers work quickly; obviously they are deft hands at preparing a slave's body for presentation to either his master or a prospective buyer. Within minutes my torso is hairless and now they switch their attention to my limbs which are released from their bonds and quickly shaved. I'm still lying on the flat of my back and one overseer now takes hold of my ankles and pulls my legs back over my shoulders to elevate my buttocks and expose my ass-crack to the razor. Once more Hussein moves over to the bench to examine me. I feel his hands hefting and weighing my balls before he checks my scrotum for any residual hairs left by the razor. Obviously, the overseer has done a good job for he comments on the "silky smoothness of my ball-sac." With my ass elevated and my ass-crack stretched wide open, I'm shamefully aware that my anus is exposed to Hussein's view. I can feel the strain on my sphincter as it pulses in time with my anxious heart-beats. Starting at my balls, he traces a finger along my perineum and continues down through the valley between my ass-cheeks to my anus. There he uses the finger to excite me. At first it's a gentle tickling followed by the prodding of his finger as he pokes at the entrance to my "Golden Portal". He notes my quivering response and smiles at my embarrassed blushing and tells me that. "You have a sensitive ass, slave! That's good! It will be a good selling point. The buyers always appreciate an asshole that responds positively to the touch of a finger." Obviously, Hussein is determined to go further! I gasp audibly as his fingers thrusts through my sphincter and into my rectum. He'd not bothered to lubricate me and his initial entry is painful. I squirm uncomfortably as his finger seeks out my prostate. Eventually, he finds my pleasure nub and at the first touch, I begin to "buck" uncontrollably. Hussein laughs and using his free hand, he playfully slaps my ass and tells me. "Steady, boy! Lie still!" Nevertheless, he continues to use his finger to excite me. Soon, my discomfort gives way to waves of pleasure that envelop my body. At first, the finger slowly works my hole before Hussein quickens the tempo of his finger-fucking. I am helpless under his ministrations and soon I give way to the enjoyment of the moment. I hear my soft pleasurable moans and I feel the involuntary working of my anal muscles as they grip Hussein's finger in a milking action. Momentarily, my fear is forgotten and my anxiety dissipates. I am living for the moment and my cock responds in the only way that it knows. I am massively aroused and my balls are withdrawn into my tightened scrotum. They ache for release and I feel the first warnings of an impending ejaculation as my cock spurts out my precum which dribbles threadlike down onto my scrunched up belly and chest. Then the finger is rudely withdrawn and I am left with a strange feeling of emptiness. Hussein has taken me to the brink and left me suspended between unfulfilled desire and frustration. I need to ejaculate but slowly my erection begins to wilt. By way of explanation, Hussein tells me. "Calm down, boy! Let's save it for your Master!" He steps away from me and watches as an overseer shaves the valley between my buttocks. My nervousness returns and I hold my breath as the razor glides effortlessly over my ass-cheeks denuding them of the soft golden down that covers them. I feel the second overseer spread those same ass-cheeks and hold them apart as the razor removes the hair from within my ass-cleft. I feel the razor's close proximity to my ass-hole and apprehensively I stop breathing as it whisks away the odd stray hair that grows there. Suddenly, the overseer declares. "He's finished!" And I relax and begin to breathe again. My body is given one final inspection for any stray, residual hairs but it's testimony to the overseers' expertise that none are found and I am ordered to clamber down from the bench. An overseer leads me to an open shower; I am ordered under it, handed a bar of perfumed soap and told to wash myself thoroughly. I'm unprepared for the icy blast of the cold water that rains down on me; momentarily, the cold takes my breath away and involuntarily I back away from the shower. An overseer noisily slaps my ass several times and orders me back under the shower. I hasten to obey and begin to wash myself. As I soap my body, I catch glimpses of my new appearance. I see the hairless state of my chest and belly and I am shocked by the absence of my pubes. My groin is now hairless and my genitals suddenly appear "out of proportion" to what I remembered them to me. Without their nest of pubic hair, my balls appear bigger and heavier and they seem to hang lower while my cock appears longer and thicker than usual. Of course, I tell myself this isn't so and that it's all and optical illusion. I am reminded of Sven's and Miguel's appearances and I realize I now share in their slave smoothness. After several minutes, I'm ordered out of the shower, given a towel and ordered to dry my body. As I do so, I see Hussein hovering nearby with a leather collar and chains. When I am dry, he shackles my wrists behind my back and fastens the collar around my neck. He leads me over to a full-length mirror and positions me in front of it and commands me to look at myself. I'm shocked at the image looking back at me; it is almost unrecognizable to the person I was just one hour ago. The long, unruly hair on my head - once my pride and joy -is closely cropped and my torso and limbs are now hairless. The body I see reflected back at me is that of a new slave. As I look at my transformation, I am surprised at how much I have changed. The absence of my body hair displays my musculature more prominently and the glabrous state of my body makes me appear more youthful. Rather than being twenty-five, I now have the appearance of a much younger youth of eighteen or nineteen. Hussein compliments me. "You're looking good boy! You now look like the slave you were always meant to be. Now it's time to present you to your Master." Hussein clips a leather leash to my collar and I'm suddenly aware that, despite my nudity, I now wear the accoutrements of the slave - a neck collar and leash and wrist restraints. Hussein tugs at my leash as an indication I am to follow behind him. He leads me out of the room then along the corridor and back into the residential part of the building. As I walk, I'm very conscious of my nakedness and there is a new sensation of freedom as my hairless ass cheeks glide sensually against one another. Whilst it is a strange sensation it is, however, not unpleasing. Hussein takes me into a courtyard where, my Master, Anwar and Mustapha sit with their host Malik under the shade of an orange tree. They are sipping on sherbets and nibbling on plump, black figs and dates. Attending them are two male slaves; one is Miguel who now wears a loincloth and one other white slave also wearing an identical loin-cover. As we enter, the three Arabs cease their conversation and look in my direction. Hussein leads me to where the three are sitting, unfastens my wrists and commands me to kneel with my nose to the pavement. My nerves are fraught and I am fearful of these men who have enslaved me. I recall Anwar's punishment of Sven on the night when he'd taken me to his home for the first time and I know that my new Master is a very stern one. I have no wish to anger him - or the other Arabs - and so I acquiesce to Hussein's order to kneel and I drop to my knees and press my face to the ground. I'm very conscious that my head is so much lower than my elevated ass and that it's shamefully on display. My humiliation washes over me and colours me scarlet. Suddenly, Hussein shouts out a new instruction. "Spread your knees boy! The first lesson you must learn as a slave is to always adopt the proper position of respect whenever you are in your Master's presence. Now press your nose to the ground and place the palms of your hands face down on the ground and level with your face. DO IT!" The impatient tone of Hussein's voice warns me to obey - instantly - and I do as he has instructed. But he still hasn't finished with me and shouts a further command. "Spread your knees apart as far as possible so that your balls are hanging down and your asshole is fully displayed. Remember slave, this position is mandatory and failure to comply will see your Master severely punish you." Hussein's present attitude is in sharp contrast to the recent friendship he'd feigned for me. I recall those times when I'd thought I was his equal - although on reflection I now see he'd never considered me as his equal - and his friendship had been a cruel charade meant to put me at my ease and to make it easier to entice me into slavery. Suddenly, I am very afraid of him and I cringe before the onslaught of his commandments to me. Apparently, I've not pleased Hussein. Hussein uses his foot to spread my thighs even further apart than I thought was possible. I feel the strain as my thighs are stretched to their limits and I feel the opening up of my ass-hole to public scrutiny. He is now happy with my position and speaks to Anwar. "Anwar, allow me to present your new slave to you!" Then he tells me to. "Crawl on your hands and knees to your Master and kiss his feet in homage, slave!" As I crawl to my Master's feet, Hussein toes my ass and tells me. "Move your lazy ass, boy! When you're given an order, you move quickly. NOW MOVE YOURSELF!" I'm overcome with emotion and I'm confused by all that is happening to me. In the face of Hussein's anger, I hastily scramble the short distance to Anwar's feet and kiss them. As a do so, my body is wracked by a great sob and as my tears fall they darken his shoes. My new Master speaks to me for the first time as his slave. "Kneel slave and face me! Place your hands on top of your head and lower your eyes to the ground." I do as he has commanded and even though I can't see his face, I know instinctively that he is visually appraising me. His next words confirm that this is so. "Thank you, Hussein! You have done well in preparing my new slave for me. I'm absolutely delighted with him. How much better he looks as a naked slave than the arrogant young Franj lawyer he was just one hour ago. Did he cause you any trouble?" "No, he gave us no trouble at all, Anwar! He was most docile and co-operative. I think he'll be the most obedient of slaves and please his Master. And I agree with you. I think he looks good." "Indeed he will. Hussein! It is in his nature to be a true slave. He once told me this is so - a fact he recognized early in his life. Isn't that so, Matt? You have always craved to be a true slave to the Arabs?" How do I answer that? It's true that my slave nature fed my erotic fantasies and transported me into many realms of imaginary slavery all of which seemed real. But they were fanciful dreams divorced from reality. What is happening to me isn't a dream; it has all the hallmarks of a dreadful nightmare and one without a happy ending. Still Anwar has asked me a question and I must answer. Shyly, I whisper. "Yes!" I meant no disrespect with the brevity of my answer but my voice was too choked up with my emotion for me to form a longer reply. But my Master didn't see it that way. Angrily, he leaned forward in his chair and slapped my face with such force that I was knocked off-balance. As I regained my kneeling position, he admonished me. "Slave, show more respect! When you answer me you will call me `Master'. And you will address all other Arabs as `Master'. You will address non-Arabs as `Sir'. And you always reply to a question in a loud, clear tone of voice. Do you understand me?" "YES MASTER!" "Now that's better! I'll ask you once more. You have always craved to be a true slave to the Arabs. Is that not so, slave?" "Yes, Master!" "Well then Matt, your wish has been granted you. You are now a slave to an Arab Master and after Saturday's auction you'll have a new Arab Master." "That's by no means guaranteed, Anwar." Malik interjects. "It's highly possible that the slave will have a Black African Master rather than an Arab one. I expect that he will be eagerly fought over in a bidding war. Tomorrow, I have scheduled a private viewing of him with a billionaire oil magnate from West Africa. He has been searching for just such a white slave as this one and I spoke to him about your slave. He is most excited and looking forward to having a test-run with the slave tomorrow." "Indeed, Malik! With that level of interest, I suppose I can look forward to a good return on my investment in this slave?" "Anwar, my friend! I expect your slave to sell well. There's always great interest in an educated white slave. Many masters like to break them of their old lives and turn them into obedient, docile and unthinking slaves. I think given his background, your new slave will engender much interest. And surely you jest Anwar, when you speak of your investment in this slave? He came to you free of cost, did he not?" "That's not completely true, Malik. I did spend money in cultivating his friendship. There were all the dinners at Mustapha's restaurant, nights out to the theatre, the many gifts and the weekend tips to Paris and Vienna and of course the cost of bringing him here to Maluchistan on a first-class flight and the cost of his five-star hotel accommodation." "Phstt! They are mere incidental expenses and they'll be returned to you a thousandfold on Saturday. Anwar, I know you will be present to see your slave sold. When will you return to London?" "I'm scheduled to fly back on Monday, Malik." "Then tell us, Anwar?" Mustapha asks. "How will you explain your return home without Matt being with you?" "That's quite easy, Mustapha. I will simply explain that Matt liked the Middle-East so much that he extended his stay here to explore the more remote regions of Maluchistan. Why, I have even purchased an onward flight for him and I have arranged for someone to journey in his place and to use his travel documents. For the record, he'll of course set out on his `adventure' and simply disappear. As you know, he won't be the first Westerner to vanish in the desert sands and the inevitable, tiresome enquires will be made about his disappearance. However, as you know, these always prove fruitless. Back in London, no blame will be attached to me and I will be left to lament the loss of such a good friend and a promising, young, business associate." "Anwar, you are a sly, old fox! You are as wily as ever!" All four Arabs laugh loudly at my fate. Anwar's cunning plan ensures that I am simply to disappear from the face of the earth into the maws of an anonymous slavery. Without doubt, my friends and business associates in London will wonder about my sudden disappearance and speculate about my fate. Eventually, they'll accept the inevitable and conclude that I am dead. Why, in my mind's eye, I can even see them gathering in our favourite "watering-hole" in London and downing a few beers in my honour. They'll raise their glasses and drink a toast to "good, old Matt, wherever he may be." This news is devastating and I see the true hopelessness of my situation. I am lost and there'll be no redemption for me. I have been duped and betrayed. Anwar has seduced me with his friendship - and he was aided and abetted in this by Mustapha and his son Hussein - and I silently curse all three of them for their cruel betrayal of my trust. I damn all three of them to perdition. "Hussein, I have one final favour to ask of you to perform on my slave." "Anwar, how can I help?" "Would you kindly remove the leather collar from around Matt's neck and replace it with this metal one that Malik has so graciously given to me?" "It would be my pleasure, Anwar." Hussein removes the leather collar from around my neck and briefly I am free of its constriction. But my freedom is short-lived and Hussein quickly fastens the heavy, metal collar around my throat. As he snaps the lock shut, I shiver from the realization that a slave's collar is the one article I am condemned to wear perpetually for the remainder of my days despite my body's total nakedness. The collar feels heavy around my neck but it weighs far heavier on my soul. "SLAVE, STAND UP! GET UPON YOUR FEET AND ASSUME THE DISPLAY POSITION!" I'm quick to obey Anwar's sudden, shouted instructions and scramble to my feet but the display position proves too difficult for me. I have seen Sven stand in that position many times; it is after all the mandatory position for a slave to adopt in his Master's presence and he maintains it until he is either ordered to "stand at rest" or to assume another position. Thinking back to Sven, I know what is required of me but it proves harder to put into practice. Nevertheless, I make a genuine effort to comply - or so I think - and draw my body rigidly to attention, move my feet apart and entwine my fingers behind my bowed head. My efforts however, aren't good enough. Hussein takes charge once more and he angrily kicks my ankles further apart and he only confuses me with his abusive tirade. "Anwar, your slave shows an inability to learn and is slow to respond to an order." "Then teach him, Hussein! Malik, do you have a cane handy that Hussein can borrow to use on my slave." "Of course I do, Anwar!" Miguel, fetch my cane for Master Hussein." Miguel hastens away to do his Master's bidding and returns within a few minutes carrying a thin, rattan cane. He falls to his knees before Hussein and holds the cane in both hands at arms' length in a manner of supplication. I look on in apprehension knowing that I am to feel the bite of the cane on my body for the first time. I recall watching as Sven was caned by his Master and I am under no illusions as to its effectiveness or the pain it causes. I shiver in dread anticipation. Miguel's kneeling position and his outstretched arms serve to highlight his superb body. Once more, his musculature is brought into sharp relief and the loincloth he wears adds to his allure. Of course, I'm aware of what it conceals; I'd been so close to fucking him when I'd been rudely torn from him. Momentarily, I relive that moment of frustration. I'd been so near and yet so far. I brace myself for the first cut of the cane. I hold my breath and wait. Then, Malik intervenes on my behalf and cautions Hussein. "Hussein, wield the cane with great caution! Take care not to damage the slave. Remember he goes on display tomorrow and we don't want any deep marking of his body. The buyers are quite happy to accept superficial stripes on a slave. Indeed, a striped ass adds to their appeal. But any deep bruising or possible permanent damage isn't acceptable to a potential buyer." "It will be as you wish, Malik! I will hold back in my use of the cane on the slave and no damage will be done to him." Hussein walks behind me and I hear the whine of his cane. I cry out in pain as it cuts across my buttocks. "Stand erect". Pull your shoulders back. Thrust your chest out and suck your belly in. There Anwar, your slave awaits your inspection!" Each of these commands is re-enforced with a further cut of the cane and weeping, I hasten to do his bidding. I have had my first lesson in slave deportment. It is a hard lesson but aided by Hussein and his cane it is one I quickly learned. From now on, I won't have any difficulty in assuming the correct stance in front of my Master who rises from his chair and inspects me. Anwar stands before me with just inches separating us while Malik and Mustapha lean forward in their seats to watch as their friend examines his new slave. They run the tips of their tongues lasciviously over their lips as Anwar reaches out and placed his hands on my chest. His touch electrifies me. How many times since I have known Anwar have I longed to feel his touch? I have lost count of the number of times when I'd secretly hoped for sex with Anwar. It had been a source of disappointment to me that Anwar had never shown any sexual interest in me despite the fact that we are both gay. I'd always supposed that Sven had satisfied all of Anwar's sexual needs and I'd envied the slave his Master. Now Anwar's hands are on my naked body but this isn't how I'd hoped it would be. I'd always thought of sex with him as being between two equals. Instead, it is as Master and slave. Despite the fact that I am now his slave, I stand quivering at Anwar's touch like an unbroken, nervous colt being handled for the first time. His fingers trace down over my heaving chest to my nipples. As he playfully tweaks them, sparks of pure pleasure surge through my body causing my heart to beat faster. His hands roam down over my belly - pausing long enough for him to insert a finger into my deep navel - and then to continue down to my now hairless groin. He hefts my balls in a cupped hand as though he is weighing them in the balance. Next, he toys with my cock and at the first touch, I am mightily aroused. He delicately runs a finger along the underside of my shaft awakening the myriad of nerve ends causing them to suddenly spring to life. He teases my piss-slit milking it for its copious precum which he uses to lubricate his finger. Suddenly, he orders me to. "Turn with your back to me slave! Now bend and spread!" I obey and using that same lubricated finger, my Master enters me. I gasp as his finger pushes past the last line of my defence. I am no match for Anwar's determination and my sphincter relaxes to give him easy entrance through my "golden portal". Slowly, he uses the thrusting finger to excite me and as he does so, my balls withdraw back into my scrotum and, if it is possible, my cock grows even harder. My anal muscles grip the invading finger and with each contraction, I hear the sound of my soft, appreciative moaning and I surrender to the pleasures of the moment. I'm aware that Miguel and the other slave are watching intently. No doubt, as slaves, they have experienced similar situations. I see Mustapha and Malik are watching as well - I hear their lewd comments in the background - and I'm vaguely aware that Hussein is hovering nearby. Briefly, time stands still until Anwar withdraws his finger and dismissively slaps my ass and orders me to. "Stand and face the front!" Mustapha is the first to speak. "Tell me old friend. Does the slave have a tight-ass?" "Indeed he does, Mustapha, indeed he does! The slave has a most delightfully, tight ass with a very firm grip and I am most anxious to sample it further. Malik, can I prevail on you for another favour? Do I have your permission to use one of your viewing-rooms where I can sample the delights of my new slave's body?" "Anwar, my old friend! My home is your home. You are most welcome to use one of viewing-rooms. Why don't we have Hussein take your slave - what's his name again.......?" "Matt! The slave's name is Matt!" "Ah yes, that's it, Matt. Why not ask Hussein to take slave Matt back to the test-room and prepare him for you while we share another sherbet and talk about the arrangements for his sale?" I listen in disbelief! Events are moving so quickly that my mind is finding it difficult to process all that is happening to me. Less than two hours ago, I was free and I'd entered these premises as a guest of Anwar ostensibly to view a real slave-market, its associated holding-pens and their unfortunate occupants. I have been cruelly betrayed and now I find that I am a slave who has been stripped naked, body shaved, collared, caned and humiliatingly inspected. But worse is now to follow! My new Master, Anwar is to exercise his right of ownership over me and to fuck me. And there is nothing that I can do other than to submit to him. My erotic fantasies over the years should have prepared me for this. How many times in my dreams had I knelt naked before my imaginary, Arab "Master" and longed for him to use me as his sex slave? But that had been merely fantasy and I am finding that grim reality is very much different. As Hussein grabs my cock and leads me back to the viewing-room where just a short time ago I'd started to fuck the slave, Miguel, my emotions give way to my fears for the future and I begin to sob uncontrollably. To be continued................. You can access all of the Jean-Christophe stories by joining the archive at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Chritophe_Stories

CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES A Sequel to "A Reversal of Fortune" Chapter 20: "Punishments" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): May, 2010 Read my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission" Chapter 20: "Punishments" "Well grandmama," Guy asks as he stoops to kiss his grandmother's cheek, "how did you spend the morning? Did you do lots of exploring?" "Indeed I did, Guy. I found it most rewarding. I had Cato show me around the house and gardens and I have to say both are exquisite. Cato tells me it's all due to my late brother's wife. It seems she had complete control over both the house and its grounds. Of course, I never knew my sister-in-law but I must say she had good taste. The house is superb and the gardens are truly magnificent. Why I even found a delightful ly secluded, little spot where I stopped to rest and I was able to watch the new slave, Rafe as he worked. Altogether it was quite a rewarding morning. " "Excellent and how did Rafe perform?" "He leaves a lot to be desired, I'm afraid. It seemed to me he wasn't applying diligently himself to his work so I had Cato hurry him along with his cane." "I see. Did it work?" "Most certainly it did. Cato's cane did spur him to greater effort. There's nothing like an overseer's cane or whip to motivate a slave. You'll need to watch that slave, I'm afraid or he'll try and take advantage of your good nature. " "You sound just like Major Swanston. He told me the other day nothing exercises a slave's mind more than the whip and the cane." "I agree wholeheartedly." Charlotte answers, "The major is quite right. Spare the cane and spoil the slave. But enough of that. Tell me about your morning. Has it been a busy one, Guy?" "It most certainly has been grandmama." Guy sighs as he slumps into an armchair. "I had so much to do and I didn't think I'd be back in time for the canings. Why, I had to drive my pony hard and fast on the way home to make it in time. He was on the point of collapse by the time I pulled into the courtyard. Poor Norge!" "Norge - is that the pony's name? Rather an unusual name for a slave, isn't it?" "I believe he was Norwegian or Scandinavian or some such nationality before he became a slave. But the name suits him. He has the right colouring for someone from that part of the world. He is a first rate pony. But you'll see for yourself this afternoon. When we go shopping" "Shopping? How so, Guy?" "Well to buy you a new wardrobe." "Why would I want to do that?" "To better reflect who you are, of course. You are now the matriarch of the new Maratier dynasty and your appearance should reflect that." "It's not something I've given a lot of thought to Guy. In the past I've always made do with what I had." "Well grandmother. Those days are over. You are now the senior member of the family and this morning I gave instructions to our lawyers to deposit a considerable sum of money into a new banking account in your name with further payments to be made on the first of each month. I'm sure you'll find there are sufficient funds to establish you in a lifestyle more fitting to your new station. The account is yours to do with as you please." "Oh Guy! What can I say? This is so unexpected; I'm overwhelmed." "There's no need for you to thank me. After all it's your rightful due. Without you none of this would have happened. The slave Rafe would still be Lucien Barrois and we'd be the poor Maratier outcasts. So this afternoon I will take you shopping. Anyway, you'll need a new dress for tomorrow night's soiree, won't you?" "Yes I suppose I will. I hadn't thought about that and of course none of my poor woman's clothing is suitable for entertaining?" "Well grandmama. Just as soon as we have finished the slaves' punishments and had lunch, I'll drive you back into town. You can shop while I attend to some more legal matters. It looks as though my pony, Norge will have to very work hard this afternoon - with two of us in the trap. But tell me - how is Cato?" "He's been very subdued and hasn't had much to say this morning. No doubt, he's thinking about his caning. Why do you ask?" "I called into the auction-house this morning and spoke with one of the partners, a Mr Schuster and told him I wanted to replace Cato with a new house steward. He was very attentive and showed me several slaves who'd served in that role with previous owners. He allowed me to examine them minutely to see if any of them would meet my requirements." "Did they? Did you see a possible replacement for Cato?" "In fact I did. One slave appealed to me. He's younger than Cato - in his early to mid-thirties I'd guess and quite good-looking. His name is Pollux and the only reason he's being sold now is because he is part of a deceased estate. He impressed me." "He sounds interesting. But what about Cato? What's to happen to him?" "I've arranged to take Cato into the dealers tomorrow for an appraisal and he's to be sold at Friday's auction." "That's very good, Guy. It's always best to move quickly in these matters. But I suggest you say nothing to Cato about this. It's better to keep him in the dark. That way there'll be no unnecessary upsets." "That's true grandmama. Mr Schuster asked me about Cato's age and condition. He thought Cato's age may be a limiting factor -he described him as `long in the tooth' and with possibly limited appeal to the buyers. I thought it only fair to tell Mr Schuster that Cato is to be caned today and would also be marked." "Did that concern him?" "No not at all. Mr Schuster doesn't see that as a problem as long as the cane doesn't cause any permanent damage. Oh! I've also arranged to take Rafe along as well. Of course he's not for sale, but Mr Schuster has kindly agreed to give me a no obligation appraisal and valuation on him. At least we'll know what he's worth." "I don't see any harm in that as long as you're not thinking of selling him. He still needs breaking in and a spell out at La Fort will do wonders for him." "I agree that Rafe's not for sale. Actually, Mr Schuster made the offer. He asked how Rafe was settling in and about his physical condition. He expressed an interest in examining Rafe and appraising him. I somehow got the impression that Mr Schuster wants to humiliate Rafe. He told me about his loathing for Lucien Barrois. I think his description of Lucien was that he was impossibly arrogant." "Well I'm sure that any of Lucien's arrogance that the slave Rafe retains will be lost tomorrow as he undergoes his examination. I'd like to see him under inspection and you'll have to tell me all about it, Guy. But tell me what business do you have in town this afternoon?" "There are two things, grandmama. First up, I have to formally petition the courts for full custodianship of my son, Etienne." "As you should. You can't allow him to remain with his ne'er-do-well mother. His place is with you. After all he is now the heir to the Maratier fortune and he needs to be educated to reflect that. What was the second item, Guy?' "I have to discuss with Simon Barrow how to find a suitable residence for you, grandmama. Somewhere close to here where I can watch over you. I want to set you up in your own household with your own servants and where you have full control of your own affairs. I want to return to you all the things that were stolen from you all those years ago." "Oh Guy. What can I say; you are spoiling me." "Not at all, grandmama. It's your entitlement and it's long overdue." "Guy you are a good grandson and I'm so proud of you. Why in only two days you act and speak as though you have had control of the family fortunes all your life. But then it is your birthright, so why should I be surprised by that? But, it's close to punishment time for Cato and the other slave. Shouldn't you be attending to that?" "Yes you are right. I should go down to the courtyard and make a start. Are you coming along to watch?" "No Guy. There are some things that are unseemly for a woman to do and being present as a slave is punished is one of them. Anyway, there's an upstairs gallery that run across the rear of the house and it has windows looking down into the courtyard. I'll watch from there." "In that case, I'll leave Ben with you so that you're not alone." "Who is Ben?" "Ben is my young body slave." "There's no need for that. I'll be alright by myself. What harm can I come to here? It's important that your slave, Ben should witness the punishments." "Grandmama, I insist that Ben stay with you. You never know when you may require his services." "Oh alright, Guy. If it will make you easier, then the slave can wait with me and watch proceedings through a window. But Guy, you mustn't fuss so. I'm quite capable of looking out for myself, you know." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> NORGE I'm standing in the front ranks of the household's slaves as we wait quietly for our Master's arrival. He has commanded us to gather and watch the canings of both Marv and Cato and, as is always the case with these occasions, our mood is sombre. Each of us is very thankful that other slaves are to suffer and not us. Canings are always unsettling to any watching slave and these latest two will both unnerve and subdue us. Despite any personal animosities we feel towards Cato, we do have a degree of sympathy for him and Marv. All of us have, at one time or another, have stood where they now stand and trembled in anticipation of the awful pain of the cane. I look at Cato and Marv and see the white pallor of their faces and the involuntary trembling of their limbs as they wait. Marv of course has been caned before and he knows `what to expect'. But Cato doesn't. For Cato, it's to be a new experience; in the past he'd been the instrument of our Master's displeasure and had administered the cane to any recalcitrant slave. To my knowledge, Cato has never been punished - well certainly not in my short time as a slave. Cato's punishment is unprecedented but I know from what Rafe had told me last night Cato had upset our Mistress and it was she who'd asked our new Master to punish him. What crime had he committed which warrants him to be so publicly humiliated in front of us? But then his humiliation doesn't stop there. He stands naked before us. I'd been surprised to see him without his customary clothing when he'd returned Rafe to our stall late last night and I'd listened with interest as Rafe told me of the events in the dining-room. Cato had always been clothed -certainly it was only by a slave's tunic - but it had been in sharp contrast to the rest of us who'd always been kept slave-naked. The tunic had set him apart from the rest of us and like his cane it was a sign of his authority over us. We - all of us - have felt the excruciating sting of Cato's cane and the most recent recipient is Rafe who now stands beside me. Rafe is into the third day of his slavery and his transformation is remarkable. Is it only seventy-two hours since he'd driven me into the City to answer a summons to appear before the courts? Then he'd been the Master - proud, arrogant and callously indifferent to the suffering of his slaves. He'd left his home as the imperious Lucien Barrois and returned to it as a humble slave renamed Rafe. Now he stands among his former slaves as one of their number. Like us he now wears the brand and collar of a slave and like us his hair is cropped short and his ass displays the emerging blue-black bruises of his caning of two nights ago. As I look at him I no longer see him as my former Master but as a fellow slave. At first, I was pleased with his fall from grace and indeed part of me still rejoices in that. But he has now spent two nights with me in my stall and I have seen the pitiful state of his mind and I am moved to compassion for him. My own transformation from free man to slave just twelve months ago had been both painful and traumatic. But I was only a common, working class man who'd run afoul of the law and it was the courts which had enslaved me and not Lucien Barrois. But it was he who bought me and used me as a slave and so all my hatred and resentment was centred on him. Perhaps -unfairly -I blamed Lucien for my enslavement and I'd allowed my hatred of him to fester and grow deep within me. Lucien's enslavement wasn't all that dissimilar to my own and followed the same pattern. He'd made an appearance in court before a judge who'd sentenced him to lifetime servitude. The shock of instant enslavement followed immediately by branding and collaring by the court's blacksmith would have devastated him. I know it did with me; I still bear the mental scars of my own enslavement and I suspect they'll remain with me until the end of my miserable existence. These are the things we share but Lucien lost so much more than me. Whereas I was very ordinary, Lucien by comparison had been anything but ordinary. He was rich and powerful and the scion of one of the country's most illustrious families - not only did he lose his freedom he'd also suffered humiliation and rejection on an unparalleled scale. As he ran alongside of me that first afternoon, I'd been overjoyed at this change in his circumstances and I had felt great scorn for him. But I was witness to the humiliation and rejection he'd been subjected to at the hands of a vindictive public who'd rejoiced to see a tall poppy cut down and I'd seen his distress and heard his sobs as we ran side by side; at least I'd not suffered this. I shared with him the cut of our new Master's whip as he urged us along demanding that we run faster and lift our feet higher. Then from nowhere came his deep, heartfelt apology `I'm sorry, I'm so sorry". His words cut through my hard resolve and I suddenly felt compassion for this newest slave. Last night, although I was exasperated by his self-pity, my compassion had moved me to comfort Rafe and to advise him to accept the inevitability of his fate. I'd told him to no longer think of himself as a free man but rather as the slave he now is. I don't know if he took my words to heart; really it is up to him whether his transition into slavery is easy or difficult. But like me -and all those others who are newly enslaved -he hasn't any other option but to submit to the will of his new Master. As I look at Rafe, I see his true slave potential; he is truly a magnificent specimen. Tall and strongly built his body has much to offer his Master. His powerful frame can be put to the hardest of labour yet it also hints at the many hidden delights to be discovered should he be used in the bedroom for the Master's pleasure. As I look at his long, thick cock resting on top of his large pendulous balls -all enticingly `gathered' together by his cinch - and the delicious, flaring curves of his buttocks, I determine that at some time I will sample those delights. Rafe wears a woe-be-gone expression on his face as he stands dejectedly beside me; like the rest of us he maintains his silence. Over the past two days he has been worked `hard'. Yesterday he'd spent all the daylight hours splitting firewood as he was whipped by his temporary overseer, Marv. Marv had been enthusiastic in his use of the whip and is now to pay the price for his over-zealousness. This morning, Rafe had been used as a beast-of burden and harnessed to one of the two, heavy mowers used in a Sisyphean effort to keep the vast expanses of the lawn surrounding our Master's home at the required level. New to slavery, Rafe is naturally unused to such intense labour and his sun-reddened body reflects this. The strain shows on his face, his muscles are stressed, his torso, streaked by his dried sweat, is covered with insect bites and his back, shoulders and ass wear the criss-cross pattern of Cato's cane and Marv's overuse of the whip. It is hard for me to imagine a more forlorn looking slave than Rafe. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> RAFE As I wait by Norge's side for our Master's arrival, I'm distinctly uneasy. My own recent caning weighs heavily on my mind and simply being here unsettles me. The pain I'd endured as Cato caned me is burned deeply into my consciousness just as clearly as the brand I now wear on my left flank. My fear of the cane is all consuming and I've promised myself to avoid it at all costs. Of course this is academic; the decision whether to cane me or not isn't mine to make. That is the sole prerogative of my Master. Why only this morning, at the instigation of my Mistress, Charlotte Maratier, I'd suffered under Cato's cane as he urged me along while I pulled the heavy mower behind me. However, those cuts, whilst painful, were individual strokes and as such were `bearable'. I have resolved to strive at all times to do my best and not to be sentenced to another multiple caning. What is it that Major Swanston said the other day -`the whip and the cane exercise a slave's mind wonderfully?' My current state of mind gives credence to his words. Now I'm to witness the caning of two of my tormentor s-Marv and Cato. I can't say I have any sympathy for either of them. Neither had spared me the cane or the whip and there's a sense of grim satisfaction for me as I look at them standing apart from the rest of us. I know from my own experience about the present state of their minds. Both would be in turmoil as they fearfully anticipate the pain they'll soon endure. This is especially so for Cato who has never been caned or whipped. I consider how he'd taunted me prior to my caning and I eagerly anticipate seeing him suffer as I had done. Once again the caning bench has been brought out from the stables and stands ready in the centre of the courtyard awaiting its two, hapless victims; its straps and other restraints ready to embrace their bodies and fasten them firmly to its surface. As I look at it, I tremble at the memory of the utter helplessness I'd felt as the straps were tightened around me and my ass positioned for punishment. All the household slaves have been ordered into the courtyard to witness these punishments. This is standard practice and one I'd enforced as the Master. I'd always believed forcing all the house slaves to witness the punishment of one of their fellows had a beneficial, salutary effect upon them. Now as a slave, I am forced to watch as Marv and Cato are caned and I know this to be correct. Still there is an unintended benefit in this for me. Thankfully I have been unharnessed from my mower and I'm to enjoy a few brief minutes of rest as I watch. My fellow slaves grow restless from waiting and shuffle nervously from foot to foot. The anxiety of waiting is beginning to show on Marv and Cato and I note the whiteness of their faces and the shaking of their bodies. Suddenly there is a low murmur and looking up I see our Master accompanied by Major Swanston and his steward enter the yard. If I had a watch I would see its midday and they are on time. As they approach us, both Cato and Marv begin to plead for leniency. No time is wasted in administering the punishments. Our Master has much to attend to this afternoon and he is anxious to be on his way. He ignores their pleas for clemency and commands Cato to commence; he watches dispassionately as Cato leads Marv by the arm to the bench. Marv has been on the bench before. Indeed when I'd first bought him it was necessary for me to have him caned on a number of occasions to break his spirit. At first he'd submitted stoically to his canings and it was only after a particularly severe caning and the threat of selling him to the mines or quarries that he'd become an obedient slave. Now, in his submission, he fears the cane, so much so that he breaks free from Cato's grasp and throws himself at our Master's feet to plead. As I watch I recall the helplessness I'd felt as I vainly pleaded to be spared the cane and my despair as my pleas were ignored. I'd not had mercy shown to me and I hope no mercy is shown to Marv. In view of Marv's harsh treatment of me at the woodpile I rejoice in his suffering. As Cato struggles vainly to get Marv to his feet our Master loses patience and shouts "Norge! Rafe! Get over here and help Cato." Norge and I break rank and hurry forward to do our Master's bidding. Marv is no match for the three of us and we drag him kicking and struggling to the waiting bench. Marv continues to shout and plead as we belly flop him onto the bench and as Norge presses down on his upper body, I try to hold onto his legs to allow Cato to fasten his ankles in place. As Cato secure one ankle, Marv in his desperation lashes out at me with his free foot and I need to move quickly to avoid it making contact with me. With both legs secured he is easier to handle and he is soon strapped down with his ass positioned upward and ready for the cane. I know how helpless Marv now feels and the fear that churns his stomach. I had experienced both two nights ago. All slaves know these feelings only too well and from past experience I know it is something that a master would never understand. How could he unless he found himself on the bench. Marv is finally aware that his begging is fruitless; his pleas fall on deaf ears. Now he gives way to tears of frustration and rage. He struggles uselessly against the restraints holding him to the bench top and his vile swearing echoes around the confines of the courtyard. Our Master approaches the bench and places his hand on Marv's body. For some strange reason it seems to calm the slave and I recall something similar happening to me just before my own caning. Marv's swearing stops and the only sound to disturb the stillness is his soft crying. Norge and I are ordered back into the ranks of the watching slaves and we listen as our Master dispassionately speaks to Cato. "How many strokes is the slave to receive, Cato?" "Ten, Master." "Then increase it to fifteen for his bad behaviour." "Nooo! Oh Master, Please don't?" Once more Marv's pleas are ignored and we listen as Major Swanston delivers a double-handed compliment to our Master; he commends him for his firmness but chides him on the leniency of his sentence. "Quite right, Guy. The slave deserves his extra punishment for his disgraceful display of insubordination and his foul language. He's lucky you are his master and you are treating him so lightly. If he were my slave he could expect a doubling of his punishment at the very least." For whatever reason, our Master chooses not to reply to the major but instead instructs Cato to, "Carry on! But remember this, Cato; I'm watching to see how hard you apply the cane. Should I not be satisfied you're giving of your best then your own punishment will be increased." Ashen-faced, Cato retrieves his cane- the cruel `WHIPPISTIK'- and as he approaches Marv's waiting body, he swishes it through the air. The frightening whine it makes cowers our group. But we are just spectators; how much more terrifying it must be for the waiting slave. I know that terror -just two nights ago I too had experienced it. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> It took no more than fifteen to twenty minutes to cane Marv. For those of us made to watch time moved slowly but it would have stopped for Marv. I know this to be so for I have been there. Bent double over the bench and strapped down with your body's movements helplessly restricted to just your heightened breathing and the nervous twitching of your limbs, time does indeed stand still. Ask any slave who has been "on the bench" and he will agree with me. There is a dreadful sense of anticipation that clouds the mind to the exclusion of everything else as you wait for the cane to strike your flesh. An experienced whip-master can add immeasurably to your suffering once he has you over the bench. He can feed your fear and add to your mental and physical anguish by playing with your senses. He can use the cane to cruelly tease you; simply by going through the motions of applying it to your body and then stopping short before it makes contact. He can coax out your fear and reduce you to a quivering, crying mass of heightened nerves. Strapped to the bench, you listen to the sibilant swish of the cane as it cuts through the air and you prepare both your mind and body for its impact: reflexively, your muscles tighten, you hold your breath and you wait expectantly for the pain. Then there is the sense of anticlimax when that pain doesn't materialise. Eventually, after several of these false alarms you do relax and you are thus totally unprepared for the inevitable first strike. This game of cat and mouse plays havoc with your state of mind and adds enormously to your torment. Cato knows how to play this game. He'd played it with me two nights ago and now he subjects Marv to its uncertainties. He is painfully aware of his own imminent caning and has taken our Master's words to heart; namely should Guy feel that Cato isn't punishing Marv hard enough then his own punishment will be made more severe. He's aware that nothing will save him from his caning and in his desperation, he seeks to minimise the risk to himself and limit his punishment to the twenty strokes to which he's been sentenced. He does everything in his power to curry favour with his Master. He knows from experience that masters appreciate how this charade adds to the slave's chastisement and how much they enjoy watching the hapless victim's struggles. When I was a master, I know I did. I watch as Marv's body tenses each time Cato toys with him. I'm aware of what Marv is feeling as he waits for the first blow and despite myself I begin to feel sympathy for him. From my point of view, his punishment is well deserved. But I know the anguish he feels and from my own experience I know what is happening to him is cruel and unjustified. As a slave, I now recognise the pain of the cane should be sufficient punishment without this extra dimension of torment. But then, I'd condoned it as a master and now as a slave I haven't the right to criticise when I fall victim to it. I stand in the silent ranks of the watching house slaves with Norge at my side. As we wait for the first strike of the cane, our mood is reflective; we all have felt the cane and we know that we will do all within our limited power to avoid further punishment. Whether we'll be successful in our efforts to do so is open to debate. We aren't in control and whatever happens to us is dependent on our master's current mood. Mostly a wise master only punishes a slave when it is warranted; he makes the punishment relevant to the crime. This way the slave knows he's transgressed and he understands he's being punished for his offence and this imprints itself into his consciousness. If he is a sensible slave he'll accept his punishment as a lesson learned and do all he can not to repeat his mistake. It's early days yet but I hope our new Master, Guy Maratier falls into this category. But there are other masters who rule by the cane and the whip. Their unfortunate slaves suffer for no other reason than their masters have this power over them. These slaves spend their days in fearful anticipation of their masters' anger and live miserable existences. My former neighbour, Major Swanston falls into this category and as I glance in his direction I see he is eagerly watching as Cato teases Marv with the cane. Standing alongside the Major is his own instrument of authority, his brutish overseer, Pug. Once I asked the major how the slave came by his name. I remember him laughingly telling me that it is short for pugnacious and how he'd scoured the slave-dealers' yards to find just such a slave; one who was powerfully built and who possessed the ugly, brutal looks to strike fear into the hearts of the slaves under his supervision. I'd asked the major if the overseer met his requirements and as I look at Pug, I remember his answer. "Indeed he does, Lucien, indeed he does. He's eminently suited to his job. All my slaves live in terror of him". Suddenly, my thoughts are interrupted by the sibilant hiss of the cane as it travels downwards towards Marv's body and the loud thwack as it strikes his upturned ass. Marv grunts out his pain in a valiant but vain attempt not to cry out. I know what he is thinking; two nights ago, I too decided not to give my tormentors the satisfaction of hearing me scream. But my resolve crumbled by the third stroke and through my suffering, I heard my anguished screams of agony. Marv holds out for longer than I did; he doesn't scream until the fifth stroke. Now we watch as Cato applies the cane with vigour and I find myself flinching with each blow of the cane. The silence of the courtyard is broken by the hiss and thwack of the cane and the surrounding walls echo with Marv's agonised cries. Silently, I count each stroke and eventually I am at fifteen-Marv's ordeal is over and Cato's is about to begin. Marv is released from the bench and he is ordered by our Master to take his place among the watching slaves. He stands among us and ruefully rubs his ass in a vain attempt to ease the pain -a pain that is clearly reflected in his tear-stained face. I look towards Cato and see the look of cornered desperation in his eyes and the fear induced trembling of his body. I wonder -will he plead with our Master for leniency but to his credit he doesn't. Perhaps he has enough residual pride as the household steward not to belittle himself in the eyes of his subordinate slaves. Despite my desire to see him suffer, I grudgingly admire him for this. Our Master orders him on to the bench and once again he commands Norge and me to assist in strapping him down. Norge presses down on his upper body and I hold his legs in position whilst Pug fastens the straps that hold him firmly in place. Finished, Norge and I resume our places among the other slaves. Pug retrieves the cane and uses it to limber up. As he goes through his loosening up exercises, I listen to the hiss and whine of the cane and I watch the powerful play of his muscles. I see the enormous strength of his arm and I'm grateful that it's not me on the bench. It's obvious; Cato is to pay an awful price for offending our Mistress. I wonder if Charlotte Maratier is watching. Of course it would be unseemly for her to be present in person. After all the punishment of a slave is no place for a woman; especially a woman of refinement. Instinctively, I know she is watching from within the house and my guess is she is looking down into the courtyard from one of the upstairs gallery windows. I glance upwards and I do catch a glimpse of her figure through the gauzy haze of a curtain draped window. She is indeed watching as Cato is caned. I continue to look up at the window from which Charlotte Maratier is watching. This woman both intrigues and repels me. I admire her strength of character, her will-power and determination - these are all noble traits of the Barrois family which I had shared when I was free - and yet her cruelty and vindictiveness repulse me. To some extent I can understand her pathological hatred of me as the usurper but her loathing of Cato is another matter. He is a slave and isn't responsible for the actions of his masters. Yet Charlotte hates him for no other reason than he'd once served her hated brother, my grandfather. He is paying an awful price for that. She is my blood relative - we share the Barrois bloodline - yet our lives are so different and until three days ago our paths hadn't crossed. Then, I'd been the proud young Barrois heir and she'd been the family outcast condemned to a life of rejection and poverty. Now she is the Mistress and I am her grandson's slave. This woman has brought me down and she hates me with a passion. I lower my eyes and turn my attention to Cato. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Pug is now ready to begin and looks to our Master for direction. Guy Maratier nods his head and simply says. "Carry on! Twenty strokes." Apparently, he is satisfied with Cato's punishment of Marv and doesn't order any additional cane strokes for his steward. Now it is Cato's turn to be played with as Pug uses the cane to tease and frustrate him. I watch the involuntary tightening of his body and the clenching of his buttocks as he braces for the bite of the cane followed by the relaxing of them when that pain doesn't materialise. Cato has never been caned -or whipped - and so this is a new experience for him. I don't feel sympathy for him -indeed just the opposite; I am enjoying his discomfort. It's obvious that Pug is enthusiastic in his taunting of Cato; he enters wholeheartedly into it. Perhaps he delights in the power he has been given -even if it's only temporary -over a fellow overseer. Of course, as an overseer he is kept busy disciplining the major's slaves. But never has he been called upon to chastise a slave of equal status or of such high standing as Cato. It's a situation he relishes and one which he is determined to enjoy to the fullest. He has an audience to play to; there are the watching slaves to cower and of course there are the two masters to entertain. Experience tells him his own master will enjoy watching as Cato is punished but the other master, Guy Maratier is an unknown quantity. Still he'll put on a good show -surely that is what this new master wants; otherwise why had he ordered Cato to be caned. Pug looks down on the hapless Cato. The slave is tightly restrained by the straps holding him to the bench; Pug had made sure of this and the only movements allowed Cato are the spasmodic twitching of his muscles and the clenching and unclenching of his powerful buttocks. Pug plays with Cato; he swings the cane through the air and smiles each time the slave braces for its impact. He watches the tensing and relaxing of Cato's body with each false blow. Maliciously, he works Cato's mind and is determined to catch him off guard. Cato is not to know when the cane strikes but he'll feel it for Pug will apply it with the full force of his considerable strength. For the slaves watching from the sidelines, this game of cat-and mouse delights them. They have all been Cato's victims as he played this same game with them and they take pleasure in the mental torment he is now undergoing. There isn't any sympathy for his plight; they had stood in fear of Cato's ability to do to them what is now being done to him. As they watch Pug cruelly tease Cato, they recognise that he has met his match. They wait expectantly for the first blow to fall. That blow falls when Cato least expects it and he is caught off guard. Pug's game has given Cato a false sense of security and he has relaxed his body. As the first blow sears across his buttocks, Cato is unprepared for the unaccustomed pain and cries out. I feel a sense of satisfaction at this; at least I didn't vocalise my pain until the third stroke of the cane. Before my enslavement, I'd seen Pug in action and I knew him to be mercilessly efficient in carrying out his duties. It had seemed to me that Pug enjoyed his work and derived great pleasure from wielding either the cane or the whip on his master's behalf and it has to be said that Major Swanston kept him constantly busy. My initial delight at seeing Cato's caning soon gives way to unease. As a master I'd presided over many canings and usually I was left unaffected by them. But Cato's caning is different; it is the severest I have ever witnessed and Pug's brutality sickens me. Pug is methodical in his application of the cane which he applies with unrestrained enthusiasm. The loud hiss and thwack of the cane testify to the power of Pug's mighty arm while Cato's agonised cries testify to that arm's strength. I watch as the cane lays down the angry, red stripes across the starkly white, smoothness of his ass and I see these as the visible sign of Cato's suffering. Pug's cane continues to rise and fall at regular intervals but he allows enough time between each stroke for Cato to savour his torment. Cato's cries echo around the enclosed courtyard and I wonder if our Mistress can hear them from her vantage point within the house. In her vindictiveness, is she enjoying the sounds of Cato's suffering? After all, she is the instigator of the events being played out before us. She is the one who'd insisted that Cato be humiliated and punished. It is she who suggested that Cato be sold. Silently, I count each stroke of the cane and after the ninth stroke any resolve or reserves of strength that Cato possesses breaks and he loudly pleads with our Master for mercy. Pitifully, he cries out. "OH, Master! PLEASE! No more Master, Please." Cato's plea is ignored and if anything it spurs Pug to greater effort. Spitefully, he applies the cane with even more severity than before. I continue my silent counting and in a way I'm relieved when I finally reach twenty -the last stroke. Cato's ordeal is over. My satisfaction at watching Cato suffer had dissipated some time ago. Despite my resentment of his treatment of me I'm appalled at the severity of his beating; it far surpasses my own caning. My thirst for revenge is quenched but this isn't shared by my fellow slaves who watch delightedly as Cato is released from the bench and stands unsteadily on his feet waiting for instructions from our Master. Now that I'm one of them, I can understand my fellow slaves' animosity to Cato but I ask myself is it right to blame him. Like them he is a slave who must carry out his master's orders. If the master demands he chastises a fellow slave does he have any other option than to obey? The choice isn't his to make. By right, their anger and resentment should be directed at the master who ordered the punishment rather than at Cato who is simply carrying out his master's instructions. Of necessity, slaves very carefully conceal their true feelings towards their masters and fearing even worse punishment; they understandably direct any feelings of anger and frustration away from the master and centre it on his overseers. My grandfather had made Cato his steward with authority over the house slaves and I had re-affirmed it when I became Master. It's true Cato had revelled in that position and I'd always known of my slaves' resentment towards him but that had never concerned me -until today. I now see Cato very much as a victim equally as helpless to govern his affairs as any other slave. Pug walks over to where Guy Maratier and Major Swanston are talking and I hear our Master thank him with the words. "Well done!" We stand and wait to be dismissed and ordered back to our duties. Turning towards the house, our Master' attention is drawn to his body slave, Ben who hurries across the courtyard and hands him a note. I'd not noticed that Ben wasn't among our group of house slaves made to watch the punishments of Marv and Cato and I now wonder about this. Our Master reads the note and I'm totally unprepared as he turns to face our group. "RAFE! STEP FORWARD!" Puzzled by this turn of events, I hasten to obey. "Rafe, I have here a note from your Mistress complaining that you'd disrespectfully looked at her as she stood at an upstairs window and how you'd brazenly tried to stare her down. She goes on to say that your eyes were diverted from Cato's punishment and you weren't giving it your full attention as I had commanded. What do you have to say for yourself?" "Master, I.........." Panic stricken my answer trails off into nothingness. I have to be very careful - if I deny my Mistress' accusation then I'm effectively calling her a liar. Yet if I don't give a satisfactory answer then that can be construed as an admission of guilt. I am trapped. For the first time, I experience the complete helplessness that confronts all slaves when they are accused of a misdemeanour by their owners. I'm suddenly aware that for a slave there can be no defence against an accusation levelled at him by his Superiors. Frantically, I search my mind for an answer but there isn't one. Reluctantly, I decide discretion is the better part of valour and say nothing; sullenly I bow my head in silent submission before my Master's anger. "I take your silence as an admission of your guilt. You disappoint me Rafe. I thought after your last punishment that you'd have learned a valuable lesson. But it seems I'm wrong. It would appear that you are determined to be wilful and that is something I won't tolerate. What do you have to say for yourself?" What can I say in the face of my Master's anger? Any argument on my part is pointless. Instinctively I know he will punish me; intuitively I know any reply from me will only exacerbate the situation and see me earn further punishment. I have no other option than to blurt out my apology. "I'm sorry Master." "I'm afraid it's too late for you to say you are sorry. Rafe, I know it is difficult for you to adjust to your new life and your changed circumstances. But you are now a slave and I'm determined to break your spirit and bend you to my will. When I've finished you will be a good slave and you can depend on that. But for your disrespect to your Mistress and for your inattention to Cato's punishment you are to receive five strokes of the cane." His words fill me with dismay. My legs tremble and stomach lurches at the severity of his sentence. I'm to receive five strokes of the cane simply for looking in my Mistress' direction. It all seems so unfair and I begin to plead. "Please Master. I'm so sorry!" Yet even as I utter the words I'm aware they fall on deaf ears and I hear my Master ask Major Swanston. "Could I impose on you a little longer, Major and ask that Pug administer Rafe's punishment." "Of course, Guy. We're only too happy to oblige aren't we Pug?" I don't hear Pug's answer. Through the fog of my fear, I'm aware of Pug guiding me on to the bench and I hear my Master instructing Cato and Norge to assist him in strapping me down. Once more, I feel the smooth bench beneath my chest and belly as Norge presses down on my shoulders and I'm vaguely aware that my ankles are being fastened in place. I feel the constricting embrace of the leather straps as Pug tightens them around my body. All too soon I'm bent double over the bench with my arms stretched out before me. My ass is now elevated and for a second time within three days it is positioned ready for the cane. Vainly, I try to struggle out of my bonds and fearfully I wait for the first blow. Now my shallow breathing quickens, my heart beats accelerate and its palpitations sound like a roaring torrent in my ears. My legs tremble and I lose control of my bladder. Shamefaced, I hear my fear-induced piss splattering on to the cobblestones beneath the bench. My master waits until I've finished urinating before addressing me. "Rafe I want this punishment to be meaningful and for it to impress itself upon you. Therefore you are to count out each stroke and after each one you are to thank me as your Master for the valuable lesson I'm teaching you and you're also to apologise to your Mistress for offending her. Do you understand?" From somewhere within the spinning vortex of my mind I hear my tearful reply. "Yes Master!" "Good! Then let's begin - and Pug lay on hard." Pug plays with me. He teases my taut body with his cane and he further fragments my already fraught nerves. I have played this game with Cato but somehow with Pug it is different. With Cato it was part of the punishment and it lacked Pug's finesse. With Pug there is another indefinable element; he has the capacity to torment the mind and to derive great pleasure from doing so. How many times does he raise me to that level of expectation where I steel my body ready for the cruel cut of the cane only to have him disappoint me? How many times do I hear the sinister whine of the cane from behind and brace myself for its impact only to feel it stop short of my body? I lose count of the number of times this happens. Then suddenly, when I'm least prepared, there is the loud thwack as Pug's cane sears itself across my buttocks. Momentarily, my mind shuts down; it is oblivious to all else but the fiery, excruciating pain travelling along my nervous system before finally exploding within my brain. From somewhere deep within my scream emerges and echoes around the confined walls of the courtyard. Then, through the red haze of my pain, I remember my Master's instructions to me and I hear myself shouting. "ONE! Thank you Master for my lesson! Oh Mistress I'm sorry I have offended you! Please forgive me." Four more times I suffer the cruel cut of the cane and four more times I thank my Master for his valuable lesson to me and four more times I beg for my Mistress' forgiveness. Finally my ordeal is over and I am released from the bench and I'm ordered back into the group with my fellow slaves. As I tearfully rejoin them, I see the sympathy in their eyes and I draw solace from them. Do they now see me - their former master - as one of their wretched number? Norge edges close to my side and surreptitiously squeezes my arm; his simple gesture overwhelms me and my tears flow. Somehow, through his gentle touch, I find the strength to continue. Quite deliberately, I don't look up at the window from where my Mistress had watched the punishment of three of her grandson's slaves. However, if I had been able to see her face I would have been shocked by the look of satisfaction she'd gained from watching as Cato and I were caned. I would see in her eyes all the malevolence she feels towards the two of us. I would also recognise this woman's intense hatred of me and her determination to make my life unimaginably bleak. For my part I'll never underestimate her capacity to cause me pain and suffering. In future, when I am in her presence, my eyes will be respectfully lowered to the ground and I'll give her all due deference. We stand silently as our Master takes his leave of Major Swanston and Pug. Then he instructs Cato to return us to our duties. As the house slaves return indoors, Norge, my fellow slave and I are led away to be re-harnessed; Norge to his trap and I and the other slave to our mowers. The position of the sun tells me it is a well past 1.00 PM. There are still some six hours of daylight remaining; six exhausting hours when I must pull the heavy mower behind my tortured body. To be continued........................

"THE AFTERMATH" Or "What Follows Next" A Prelude: An Object of Desire This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't rewrite." Chapter 1: A Morning Report Andy Trevorrow is relaxing over breakfast in the sun-dappled shade of the vine covered patio. As he eats he runs a lustful eye over the nude body of the slave kneeling in full obeisance before him. His eyes wander from the slave's lowered head, up the broad, muscular back to the elevated ass - an ass he knows well and which he frequently enjoys - before speaking. "Good morning, Toby. Rise and stand at rest. After you give your report there is a matter I wish to discuss with you." The master commands the slave. The master gazes fondly at the naked slave standing before him. He is appreciative of the slave's magnificent body and of the pleasure the slave gave him in his bed last night. The slave was nine years old when he given to him as a present on his own tenth birthday. He remembers the thrill of owning his own slave and how important and grown-up he'd felt at receiving the young, slave from his father. He remembers, with a sense of shame, how cruelly he treated the slave at first. Eager for his beloved father's approval, he had abused his new slave harshly and had often enthusiastically caned him for no other reason than to prove his own worth to his father. At first his father had watched indulgently as his son asserted this ownership over his new slave but eventually felt the need to intervene on the young slave's behalf before he was irreparably damaged. The father coached the son in proper master/slave relations and showed him how to handle slaves firmly but justly. In time a strong bond developed between the young master and his slave and this strengthened and grew to such a degree that, on reaching maturity, the master had used the slave to his satisfy his own burgeoning sexuality. In time, Andy had taken him as his personal pleasure slave; a situation that continues up to the present time. As a sign of his affection, the master has given the slave a name, Toby. This naming of the slave is unusual in that no other of his slaves is named and, when addressed, they are simply referred to as `slave' or `boy'. Upon the death of his father, Andy had inherited the farming estate and to assist him in its management he'd appointed Toby, to serve as his steward. The slave waits patiently as his master continues to eat. Finally Andy asks. "Well, Toby what is happening today?" "Master, as you are aware the grain crops are ripening fast and I have instructed the overseers to prepare all the machines and wagons ready for use. Master, good fortune has smiled on you this year and there should be a good harvest. Also, we have other slave gangs weeding and hoeing in the orchards and vineyards. And there are also three slaves in a punishment group cleaning out the water channels as they wait for your judgement." "Excellent, Toby, as usual you're on top of everything, saving me the bother of involving myself with the more routine decisions of the farm. But tell me about the three slaves who are to be punished? Are their transgressions of a serious nature?" "Not at all, Master. They can be considered as trivial; according to their overseer, the slaves were skylarking when they should have been working. You could explain it as youthful exuberance but they are here to work and not to play. Nevertheless any act of insubordination by a slave has to be punished as an example to the other slaves. For that reason I have them working in the water channels. Ordinarily, several hours working in these ditches are sufficient punishments. The slaves are working knee-deep in foul-smelling mud, shovelling out the silt and other debris clogging up the flow of water - and of course I have set an overseer over them to ensure their backs are bent to their task. I would think after twelve hours of constantly shovelling heavy mud they will think twice before upsetting an overseer in future." "Tell me about the slaves, Toby. Are they young and attractive? Do you rank them as being among my better slaves?" "Yes, Master. I would place them among the best of your slaves. They are young with good, strong bodies and handsome features. Master, you mentioned there is something you want to discuss with me?" "Yes, Toby, there is but I'll delay this until I've inspected these slaves. They may have a direct bearing on our discussion. Would you return to the fields and I'll meet you there shortly to inspect these slaves?" "Certainly, Master. Do you want the slaves cleaned up for your inspection?" "No. Leave them as they are and keep them working until I arrive, thank you, Toby." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Chapter 2: In the Fields On Andy's approach, the overseer in charge of the three slaves increases the tempo of their labours by shouting and cracking his whip over their heads. Aware of their master's presence, the slaves respond by shovelling harder. Their legs are coated in foul smelling mud and their upper bodies shine with their perspiration. They are plagued by biting, stinging insects attracted by both the smell of the mud and their sweat and their discomfort is all too evident. "Are these the three slaves in question?" Andy asks as he watches the three slaves toiling in the ditch. "If so, then fetch them to me?" Toby orders the three slaves out of the ditch and fearfully, they hasten to prostrate themselves at their master's feet. Andy gazes down on their naked, trembling bodies before acknowledging their obeisance by placing his right foot on the napes of their necks, one after the other. Then he orders them. "STAND AND DISPLAY!" The slaves scramble to their feet and display their bodies for their master's inspection. Andy looks intently at the three, young slaves before running his hands over their fronts and backs. Each is a perfect specimen, standing at about 1.9 metres in height and weighing between 78 to 80 kilograms; all three have strong, muscular bodies developed by years of hard toil. Two are blonds and the third has black curly hair. All three have a light dusting of matching hair on their chests and with delightful treasure trails leading down over their ribbed bellies to their pubic regions. Their more than adequate cocks and balls nestle in a bush of thick hair that matches their general colouring. Satisfied, he addresses Toby. "You are right. These are among my better slaves. They're prime stock. What age are they?" "Master, it is hard to say how old they are with any certainty. As you know slaves don't have the date of their births recorded; only the month and year, if at all. Usually a slave's age is determined by the condition of his body, therefore I can only give you an approximate guide to their ages. My guess is that they are somewhere between eighteen and twenty years. I base this on the fact that they were among the last batch of young slaves purchased by your father shortly before he died. As you know he preferred to buy slaves in their early teenage years so that he could train them and work them in his ways. As that was six years ago; these slaves would now be within the age range I just mentioned." "Then they are the correct age for my requirements and they are in prime condition. But tell me, are they sexually active?" "Master, like all your slaves, these three are like rabbits;" Toby laughs "in that they spend all their free time in fucking one another. Although the black-haired slave at the end is more of a giver than a receiver. I understand from the overseers that he hates to have a cock thrust up him but is eager to put his own into the nearest available hole. Because of this reluctance, the overseers delight in fucking him. They enjoy his sense of outrage at being used and of his inability to prevent it happening to him." "Well I'm satisfied they meet my current requirements, Toby and they are an important part of the matter I want to discuss with you. Yesterday, while in the city, I visited the workshops of the sculptor, Antonio Varo. One of his recent works, a bronze statue of two, naked wrestlers caught my eye and I decided it was just what I need for inclusion in my remodelled courtyard garden. As you would expect of Varo, his works are quite expensive; 17,000 drachmae in fact, and at the moment, I have insufficient cash reserves to meet his price. However, I'm determined to have it, no matter what the cost and so it has become necessary for me to raise the extra money by selling one or two slaves at the next auction. I look to these three to provide me with the money I need. What do you think?" "Master, I'm sure any one of these slaves would fetch a good price at auction. Whether or not you'll need to sell all three to raise the amount of money you need, I can't say. It is some time since I last accompanied you to a slave sale, and so, I'm not up with the current price of slaves. Hopefully, it won't be necessary to part with all three, as with the promise of a good harvest, we will need every available slave to work in the fields." "I appreciate your views, Toby. However, I'm determined to have my new statue and if I have to sell all three slaves to achieve this, then so be it. With regard to the harvest, the other slaves will need to work that much harder and longer to make up for the absence of these three. I'm sure it isn't beyond the capabilities of my overseers to coax this extra effort out of my slaves." "Very well, Master." Toby answers. He knows that there isn't any point in continuing the discussion now that his master has made his decision. There remain only the logistics of delivering the slaves to the auction yard. "Toby, tomorrow I will need you to help me take these three to the slave-dealer's yard for their valuations. Please ensure that they are made presentable; their hair is to be cropped, their faces clean-shaven and their bodies washed, buffed and oiled. Before we leave make sure they piss and shit; I don't want to be publicly embarrassed by any unforeseen accidents either on the way to the dealers or whilst they are being appraised. They are to be secured so that there isn't any chance of them breaking free and it goes without saying they are to be naked. You, however, have my permission to wear a loincloth to and from the sale-yards. I rely on you to have the slaves looking their best for their appraisals." "Thank you, Master. I'll see that all your requirements are met. Thank you also for allowing me to wear a loincloth." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Chapter 3: The City Andy moves slowly through the narrow streets towards the centre of the city. Sitting in his rickshaw pulled by a naked and muscular slave, he is followed by Toby leading the three slaves on a chain. The slaves are fastened, one behind the other, by short lengths of chain attached to their neck collars and with their wrists tied behind their backs. On reaching the outer limits of the city, Andy had paused while Toby fitted the slaves with ankle chains; the effect of this is that the slaves now hobble rather than walk. Still Andy considers this restraint is necessary. Unaccustomed as the slaves are to the city, he doesn't want them taking fright and attempting to break away. Before leaving the farm, Andy had inspected the three slaves to ensure they were properly prepared for valuation. He was pleased with Toby's efforts in carrying out his instructions. Each slave has had his hair cropped and is cleanly shaven. Their strong, young bodies are clean and coated with oil highlighting their musculatures in the early, morning sunlight. Additionally, Toby had taken it upon himself to trim their pubes back to short stubble to better show off their genitals which are bound with thin, leather straps. This forces their cocks and balls forward into a prominent display. He also denied them food and water overnight and made sure they were flushed out to avoid any unpleasant accidents due to nervousness as they are examined by the slavers. Andy had praised Toby's efforts and thanked him before moving off to the slave-dealers. Despite their fears at the prospect of being sold, the three slaves nevertheless feel a sense of excitement as Toby leads them through the streets of the small, provincial city. They were last in the city six years ago, when the old master had bought them at auction and then led them back to his estate five kilometres from the city. Since then they had been restricted, under pain of death, to the boundaries of their master's estate. So the sights, sounds and smells of the city both fascinate and intrigue them. As they are led through the streets they are the subject of much admiration and comment. Several times their master stops to allow friends and other interested bystanders to examine their bodies and to praise him on the quality of his livestock. The slaves soon became accustomed to the hands sliding over their bodies, manipulating their cocks, hefting and weighing their balls and parting their buttocks to examine and finger their assholes. Unaccustomed to so such attention, the three slaves soon sport massive erections and their piss-slits glisten with pre-cum. It is only too obvious that they enjoy the attention their bodies are receiving at the hands of such appreciative admirers. Their master, for his part, is hoping that this interest in his slaves will translate into bids when they stand on the auction block. As they move through the streets into the central square of the city, the slaves are surprised at the crowds thronging the streets. They are surrounded by people hurrying about their business. And everywhere they look they see slaves toiling and, in observing them, they perhaps catch a glimpse of their own futures. They see gangs of municipal slaves, owned by the city council, sweeping and cleaning the footpaths and gutters, whilst other slaves are employed repairing and repaving the roadways; all these slaves are under the watchful eyes of impatient overseers armed with long, leather whips. And of course, there are the various methods of transport, all powered by slaves, whose role it is to ferry their masters around the city. However, for the slaves, the most disturbing sight is that of a comfort station; one of many set up and operating throughout the city. The comfort station consists of a long wooden bench, upon which ten, naked slaves are kneeling with their heads and hands locked into a stock. Their knees are spread wide and are strapped down exposing their puckering holes to public scrutiny. The bench is built at a height that places their heads and asses at a convenient height for either fucking or sucking. As they pass, the slaves see several youths enthusiastically thrusting into some of the unfortunate, straining slaves. The comfort stations are a municipal initiative that caters for the poorer citizens of the city who don't own slaves. However, the facility is also popular with the city's businessmen and merchants in need of a quick release from stress. Here, for a nominal fee, they can use a slave's body in increments of fifteen minutes. Each station is carefully supervised by a council employee and two assisting slaves. To ensure hygiene, and after each use, a slave is unfastened, flushed out and re-lubricated. He is then placed in a nearby, holding cage to rest until he is next required as a replacement on the bench. The three slaves, used to the sheltered environment of their master's farm are shocked by this sight and shudder at the thought that they, too, could now be subjected to such an extreme form of slavery. Andy moves out of the square and down a side street leading to the municipal sale yards. It is here that all livestock, including slaves, from the surrounding farms are sold. At this early hour, the yards are a scene of great activity with farmers delivering their sheep, goats and cattle into the holding pens. As they pass, the slaves see a caged area down one side of the yards. Locked in this cage are fifty, naked slaves due to be auctioned in the afternoon after all the other livestock is sold. They stand dejectedly, and in chains, looking out at the activity as the eager buyers peruse the penned animals on offer. Soon, it will be their turn to be inspected and these slaves will be led out and chained by the ankle to a numbered podium for inspection and examination by any potential bidders. Passing through the stock market, Andy enters through tall wooden gates into a paved courtyard surrounded by high stone walls. There he gives the order for his pony to stop and rest. As they enter the courtyard, the trembling slaves pass under a sign reading: DAVID J MATHESON, SLAVEBROKER DEALER IN FINE SLAVES REMEMBER! FOR THAT SPECIAL SLAVE - TALK TO DAVE >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Chapter 4: The Appraisals Alighting from his rickshaw, Andy is approached by a middle-aged slave who bows deeply before speaking. "Good morning, sir. How may I help you?" This slave is obviously of some importance as he wears a loincloth and is, in fact, the chief steward of the establishment. "I wish to speak to your master. I have three slaves I want appraised and valued." Andy replies. "Certainly, sir. I'll take you to my master immediately. Can I tell him who isasking for him?" "Yes. My name is Andrew Trevorrow. I believe your master will remember me as I have had dealings with him in the past." "Thank you, sir. Can I ask sir; are these the slaves you wish my master to look at?" He asks pointing to the three slaves. "If so, I suggest that your overseer take them through that gate," the slave indicates a small wooden gate in set in one of the walls, "into the inspection yard." There is a slave in the yard who will prepare them for my master's inspection." Andy nods in agreement and instructs Toby to lead the slaves into the yard and instructs him to assist in getting them ready. "Thank you, sir. Now if you will come with me," the slave invites Andy, "I'll take you to my master. I'm sure he will offer you the hospitality of his house whilst your slaves are made ready. Oh, one other thing... do you want me to have your pony watered?" "Yes, please. He has travelled a long way and will have to make the return trip in the full heat of the day." "As soon as I have taken you to my master, I'll send a slave to water him and to help him piss." As Andy and the steward disappear into the building, Toby leads his charges through the gate and into a small, dusty yard. Running down the centre of the yard are a number of poles with varying lengths of heavy chains attached. He is approached by a slave who is naked accept for a heavy collar around his neck and who asks Toby. "Can I help you?" "Yes, my master has brought these slaves in for pre-sale appraisals." Toby answers. "At the moment he is with your master and I was instructed to bring the slaves here and get them ready. What needs to be done?" "That's simple." The slave replies. "All that needs to be done is to unshackle them and chain each of them to one of those poles. So if you remove their ankle chains and unlock their collars from the coffle chain, I'll take it from there. We'll soon have them ready." As Toby frees the first slave from his fellows, the yard slave quickly locks the slave's wrists to the back of his neck collar and fastens his collar to one of the chains attached to a post. He then instructs the slave to kneel and assume the display position; feet together, knees apart, back held rigidly straight and his head bowed. The remaining two slaves are quickly dealt with in a similar manner and chained to their respective posts. Now the three slaves kneel in a row and await the arrival of their master and the slave-dealer. As they kneel in the dust of the courtyard the slaves are suddenly aware of the approach of their master and another, expensively but gaudily, dressed man. This man is middle-aged, squat, and fat and is sweating profusely; both his balding head and the shirt under his armpits are wet with perspiration. He speaks with a wheeze not helped by the cigar he is smoking. The slaves note the short, leather whip clipped to his belt. Wordlessly, he slowly circles the kneeling slaves, several times, before speaking to Andy. "I compliment you on the quality of your livestock, Mr Trevorrow. Top quality slaves and they present well. With your permission I'll examine them in more detail before I give you an estimate on their worth." "Please do." Andy replies "That's why they're here." "What about the older slave?" The dealer asks indicating Toby. "Do you want him appraised too?" "No, that won't be necessary. He's my steward. He's not for sale." "I don't mind that he's not for sale. I'm happy to do him with the others. It'll be an obligation free valuation - courtesy of the house, so to speak. It'll give you some idea of his current value; something all owners need to know about their livestock." Andy notices the momentary flicker of shock in Toby's eyes at the prospect of being subjected to the dealer's examination. Frowning, he decides to accept Dave Matheson's offer. He reflects that Toby, from time to time, needs to be reminded that he is a slave and that his special relationship with his master doesn't disqualify him from being treated as one. "Thank you, Mr Matheson, for your generous offer and I accept." Andy responds as Toby trembles at the prospect. "Right then, boy. Strip and kneel by that pole." The dealer instructs Toby. Toby looks imploringly at his beloved master but is ignored. He knows he hasn't any choice other than to obey. He removes his loincloth and kneels alongside an empty pole in line with the other three slaves. "Chain him up!" Dave Matheson commands the yard slave who hastens to obey his master's order. Turning once more to Toby he barks. "Assume the display position". Toby does as instructed as his collar is chained to a post. Now he is left to wait. Then, unclipping his whip, Matheson snaps it at one of the blond slaves and gives the order for him to. "Stand and display'. Fearfully the slave scrambles to his feet and submits to the dealer's scrutiny. Dave Matheson unfastens the slave's wrists from his collar and slowly moves his hands over the slave, expertly gauging the muscle tone and strength of the young body. He notes the slave's favourable responses to the manipulation of his nipples and the inspection of the navel. Next he cups the slave's balls in one hand and jiggles them up and down as if to test their weight. With the other hand he strokes the cock. He is pleased at the slave's instant response and smiles as it begins to lengthen. Almost lovingly, he strokes the slave to a full erection. He now raps out the command to `turn around' and begins an examination of the slave's shoulders and back. He pays particular attention to the slave's muscular ass and squeezes both buttocks, testing them for firmness. Then his hands travel down the outside of the slave's legs and back up the inside to the thighs. Kicking the slave's ankles apart he orders him to. "Bend and spread". Fearfully the slave hastens to obey. As his balls are pulled down and away from his body, the slave gasps and squirms. He is rewarded with two, loud, open-handed slaps to his buttocks together with the shouted command to. "STEADY! STAND STILL!" Then the slave feels a finger circling his stretched and exposed hole; he shudders at the unexpected pleasure this causes him. He feels the dealer's finger thrusting into him and soon this is joined by a second finger. The slave's cock is now rampantly hard, and looking back between his legs, he sees a thread of pre-cum slowly working its way downwards from his cock-head to the ground. Then, as suddenly as they had entered him, the fingers are withdrawn. With a slap on the ass he is ordered to. "Stand up, face the front and display!" Acting under his master's instructions, the yard slave now begins to masturbate the slave. Already aroused, the slave quickly responds and is soon ejaculating into a glass container held over the tip of his cock. The dealer watches, with interest, the powerful thrusting of the slave's hips as he pumps out his sperm. Once finished the yard slave hands the glass container to his master who examines the semen by touch, smell and taste. Declaring his satisfaction he orders the slave to. "Kneel and display." Once the slave is on his knees, Dave Matheson runs his hands over his cropped head before examining the ears, eyes, nose and mouth. Ordered to open his mouth the slave receives a slap to the side of his head and the order to "open wider". Then, as the final part of his appraisal, the slave's tongue and teeth are examined. Finally satisfied, the dealer declares. "He's in excellent condition, Mr Trevorrow." Now he turns his attention to the black-haired slave and the order is given for him to. "Stand and display." Soon the remaining two slaves and Toby are deal with in a similar manner to the first slave and Matheson declares the appraisals finished and invites Andy to return to his office. "I suggest we return to my office to discuss your options. Usually, I don't discuss an impending sale in front of a slave; it can unsettle him too much. It's much better if your slaves don't overhear our discussions on their futures." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Chapter 5: Decisions! Decisions! Once back in the office, the dealer asks: "Before I give you my appraisals, can I ask what prices you were hoping to get, Mr Trevorrow?" "I was thinking of somewhere in the 8,000 to 9,000 drachmae range for each of them". "I'm afraid, given the current state of the market, those prices are too ambitious. For the three younger slaves you could expect to get 4,500 perhaps 4800 at the most. However, the older would probably fetch 8,000 to 8,500 drachmae; but then he's in a special category." "I don't understand." Andy questions. "Why are the prices so low?" "As you are aware our northern neighbours are engaged in one of interminable border disputes with each other. This has resulted in outright warfare and many captured soldiers and civilian prisoners have been enslaved. A lot of these new slaves are finding their way south and are causing a glut in our slave markets. Perhaps you noticed a pen of these new slaves on your way through the livestock yards on your way here. They're up for auction this afternoon. Of course, as they are new to slavery, they are unbroken, wild slaves and won't sell at the same prices of your tame ones; currently they are selling for about 3,000 to 3,500 drachmae. But, let's get back to your slaves. Are you prepared to sell them in such a depressed market?" Quickly Andy downs the sums in his head and is dismayed to realise that the return from his three slaves won't cover the cost of the statue. Hesitantly, he replies. "I don't know. I really did expect to get higher prices for them than the ones you quote". Sensing Andy's disappointment, Matheson decides to change tack. "Look your slaves are in superb condition. The two blonds are fine specimens but unfortunately their strength works against you. They're not suitable for sale as pleasure slaves as their bodies are too muscular. Sold individually, I would think they'll be bought by one of the big construction companies for use as heavy labour on their building sites or in their stone quarries. However, you might consider offering them as a matched pair - that way they could appeal to an owner looking for handsome, strong slaves to tend to his gardens and grounds and at the same time provide eye candy as they work. Sold as a pair, at auction, you could get an extra 500 drachmae for each of them. What do you think?" Desperate to make up the shortfall, Andy replies "Let's do it. Now what about the other slave? Do you have any suggestions?" "Well yes I do. This slave is in a different category to the other two; he has a great body but isn't as bulky as the blonds. I believe his handsome features and finely honed body would have great appeal to a special client who sometimes buys a slave by private contract. I often draw his attention to slaves I think he might be interested in and I think your slave could appeal to him. If so, I'm sure I can negotiate a higher price than you'd get at auction". "Can I ask the name of your client?" "No. I can't reveal his identity at this stage. But I can assure you he's a genuine buyer and one of our leading businessmen. In fact, he's the proprietor of one of the city's top casinos and its associated pleasure palace. He's always on the lookout for handsome, tight-assed slaves to serve his exclusive clientele. Certainly with his good looks, strong body and that tight ass-hole your slave fits the bill. Should you be interested, I'm happy to act on your behalf. Shall I contact him?" "I don't know. My steward told me yesterday that the slave doesn't like to be fucked. I wouldn't like to sell him and for your client to feel he's been cheated." Dave Matheson laughs. "It doesn't matter what the slave likes or doesn't like -after all he's only a slave. You can take it from me that if my client buys your slave, he'll soon get used to being fucked; in fact that's all he'll be doing for most of his time." "I don't know." Andy demurs. "I don't feel comfortable subjecting him to such a life." "Your concern for the slave is admirable, Mr Trevorrow. But you need to remember that he is a slave and once you sell him his future life shouldn't concern you. Look, for the next few years he'll live a life of luxury; his only role will be to satisfy his master's clients. Eventually, of course, and once he has lost his appeal, he'll be sold on. As you are no doubt aware, all casino and pleasure house licences stipulate that the town council has first right of refusal on such slaves; they use them to staff the city's comfort stations. But that's in the future. Now, what you need to decide is whether you want me to negotiate a higher price with my client or take the risk of a lower price if he goes to auction. It's your choice." "I guess you're right." Andy decides. "Please contact your client." Aware that he is still short of the money needed to buy his statue; Andy desperately considers his next option. Reluctantly he asks: "You mentioned my steward's value could be as high as 8,000 - 8,500 drachmae. Could he really be worth that much?" "Indeed, he is an exceptional slave. His attraction is in his handsome features and magnificent body. Also, he is well endowed; he has large genitals and produces a prodigious amount of semen. All these attributes qualify him as suitable for breeding. I know of several clients who would pay handsomely to own such a slave. It's even possible that you would get more than 8,500 drachmae if they were to bid against one another. Are you interested in selling him?" "Reluctantly, yes I am. But tell me more; what will happen to him?" "My guess is that he will lead the pampered life of a stud on a slave breeding farm. His new owner would ensure that he remains healthy and that his body maintains its superb condition. No doubt he would be worked hard at some heavy duty labour to maintain his fitness; but, for him, this would be offset by the pleasures of being mated with his master's female stock." "I have to be honest with you." Andy tells Matheson. "He hasn't had any sexual contact with females. Would this make a difference?" "I wouldn't think so. His mating will be carefully controlled by his owner's stud-master who'll make sure he gets over any initial shyness. If you're thinking of selling him, then I suggest I contact those clients I know would be interested in him and invite them to privately inspect him prior to auction, The idea is to, whet their appetites' and then to let them bid against one another. What do you say, Mr Trevorrow?" "Alright go ahead with the sale of all four slaves. What needs to be done?" "All I need from you is your signature appointing me to act as your agent and allowing me to chastise your slaves if necessary." Noting the look of alarm on Andy's face, the dealer hastens to explain. "Don't worry; any punishment I need to administer to your slaves will be mild. There won't be any marking or damaging of their bodies. It's simply a requirement of all the insurance companies that slave-brokers are free to restrain a troublesome slave if the need arises." As Andy signs the necessary paperwork, the dealer re-assures him. "You can rest easy that I'll take great care of your slaves. After all, it is in my interests too; the higher the return to you, the greater the commission for me. I would prefer to sell them by private treaty, if possible, rather than see them go to auction alongside the wild, unbroken, northern imports. They are in magnificent condition and deserve to be sold as the prime stock they undoubtedly are. Anyway, tonight, I'll cage your four slaves, together, away from my other stock. That way they'll be able to support each other. I find that the first night in the pens is always the worst for a slave being sold. No doubt, they'll fret for their familiar surroundings and the loss of their old lives. Still I find if you give them adequate food and water and clean straw for their bedding they'll soon settle down. Strangely enough most slaves are resilient. When they wake up tomorrow they'll realise that their old lives are over and their new ones are about to begin." "I have one other question, Mr Matheson. If they go to auction when will they be sold? I'd like to be present at their sale." "Well today's Wednesday. What about Saturday's sale? There are more buyers at a weekend sale than a mid-week one. Also that gives me time to phone my special clients and invite to inspect the slaves before the sale. These inspections are also good for the slaves; it takes their minds off their sale as they are forced to concentrate all their attention on pleasing the buyers who are examining them." The two men shake hands as the dealer hands Andy his copy of the sales authorisation. "Well that's it then, Mr Matheson. Thank you for your help. I'll see you at the sale on Saturday." "Thank you for your custom, Mr Trevorrow. I look forward to seeing you on Saturday. I'll make sure your slaves are well presented at their pre-sale showings and on the day, should they go to auction, they will be clean, with their faces freshly shaven and their bodies oiled. I know they will do you proud." Walking back through the inspection yard, Andy looks resolutely ahead without making eye contact with the still kneeling slaves. Deliberately, he ignores Toby's questions of. "Master? Master?" He enters his rickshaw and as he prepares to drive away he closes his mind to Toby's anguished shouts of. "PLEASE, MASTER! DON"T LEAVE ME HERE! COME BACK, MASTER! PLEASE!" As he drives away from the slave-dealer's yard, Andy recalls the advice given to him by his father many years ago, but which he chose to ignore; namely that you treat slaves justly and firmly but you never become emotionally attached to them. As his father had explained, slaves are, after all, just another form of livestock. He resolves to remember and act upon this advice in future. He also recalls a story he'd read two or three years ago entitled "You Can't be Friends with a Slave." He reflects that this is sound advice from a wise author. Once out of the livestock market he turns his pony towards Antonio Varo's workshop. He is now in the happy position to confirm his purchase of the wrestlers and he'll still have money left over from the sale of his four slaves. Smiling to himself, he resolves to buy himself a young, newly, enslaved prisoner from the north while prices are so low. To be continued..................

"THE AFTERMATH" (Or What Follows Next) Chapter 8: "After Sales Service - The Fourth Slave" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years. Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) An archive of my stories can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christope_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect the integrity of this story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations of add pictures." Chapter 8: "After Sales Service - The Fourth Slave" PART 1: The Comfort Station The slave is in a state of shock and denial. Having just left Dave Matheson's, he can't, as yet, comprehend his sudden change of circumstance. It is hard for him to grasp that he has just been sold and that the previous life he'd known as a field slave at the Trevorrow farm is now over. He is acutely aware that he has been cruelly torn away from the only security and support he'd known in his slavery - the companionship and comfort of his two fellow slaves, the cousins- who remain locked in their pen awaiting Saturday's auction. He knows he will, most likely, never see them again. He is heartbroken at this knowledge and, as he trots alongside his new Master's rickshaw, he feels a deep sadness. He is besieged by an over-riding sense of dread at what his new life at the Patroklos Club holds for him. In his misery, he is at first oblivious to the scenes around him. He doesn't recognise that he is now a part of the unhappy tableau of slavery that lies at the core of the city's existence and prosperity. His eyes are shut to the almost countless number of slaves employed in a myriad of tasks for their owners. And he doesn't comprehend that this very existence of slavery is the heartbeat that keeps the city alive and slave labour is the blood flow that keeps it functioning. Dazedly, he is aware that he is trotting alongside the matched pair of ponies as they pull his new master's rickshaw through the congested city streets, He feels their re-action to Simon's whip as it cuts across their naked buttocks with the exhortation to. "HUP! HUP!" Obediently, they respond by breaking into a faster trot. The slave is compelled to keep pace with them. The slave feels the warmth of the afternoon sun on his naked body and as he runs he gulps in the fresh, clean air of the outdoors. Soon, the cloying smell of Dave Matheson's slave pens is gone from his nostrils and it is but a lingering, nasty memory. He is aware that he is perspiring profusely and feels the rivulets of sweat trickling down his body as he breathes in the pleasant, sensuous aroma of the two sweating ponies. Again, Simon applies his whip to the ponies and the three slaves find themselves moving even faster. It would appear his master is eager to arrive at his destination. Inevitably, the slave's mind begins to awaken to the sensations around him and he gradually emerges from the gloom of his self-pity. Whether this is because of the enforced exercise of running alongside the ponies or the pleasure of once more being outdoors - or perhaps a combination of both- the slave doesn't know. Now he begins to look about him and he is appalled at what he sees. Everywhere he looks, he sees slaves. Until yesterday, he'd been restricted to his former owner's farm. There, he knew only the forlorn existence of a slave; the hard, physical labour of the fields and firm discipline of the overseers' canes and whips. Quite deliberately, he'd been kept in ignorance of life beyond the boundaries of the Trevorrow property. There, within the narrow world of the farm, he'd toiled ceaselessly in his master's interests; indeed, as a slave, nothing else was required of him other than that he diligently serve the needs of his owner. However, he did know that slavery existed outside the confines of the farm; but he was ignorant of its manifestations. Now for the first time, he is seeing it in action. Between now and the time he enters into the Patroklos Club he will get many glimpses of what it means to be a slave in this city. He becomes aware of the gangs of naked or near naked slaves toiling under the direction of their overseers; driven to repair or maintain the roadways and footpaths and to clean the busy streets. Yet more slaves are employed on building and construction sites erecting the grand edifices that reflect their masters' business interests and wealth. And he is appalled to see slaves used for one of the most basic of human needs - transportation. The crowded streets are full of conveyances in many shapes and sizes and all are drawn by slaves in harness. Some of these conveyances, much like his new master's, are merely lightweight, one - person rickshaws powered by one or perhaps two ponies; others are heavier, larger and more ornate and are drawn by teams of four to six slaves. These wretched, naked slaves, all sweating profusely in the hot afternoon sun, strain into their harnesses as they transport their owners from one destination to another. And the slave is shocked to see the ostentatious use of a team of six tall, muscular slaves carrying a heavy litter on their shoulders in which reclines a grossly overweight man of effeminate and dissolute appearance. Moving into one of the city's many squares; Simon pulls back on his reigns bringing the ponies to a halt before stepping out of the rickshaw. The tired ponies are glad of any respite - no matter how brief - and now stand docilely in their harnesses gulping air into their tortured lungs. Gradually, as their breathing returns to normal, the quivering in their aching thighs and leg muscles lessens. The slave of course isn't as stressed as the two ponies; after all he had only to run alongside them without the weight of the rickshaw behind him. He wonders why they have stopped and looks to see what it is that his new master is doing. He is shocked to see they stand adjacent to one of the city's comfort stations. As he watches he sees his new master engaged in a jovial conversation with the city official responsible for the operation and maintenance of the comfort station. The slave, only too aware that this could be the fate that awaits him at some future date, is horrified at the sight before him. Kneeling on their hands and knees on a raised platform and with their heads securely fastened into stocks is a row of naked slaves, all aged between the mid-twenties and early thirties. Even as he watches, the slave hears the official order his two slave assistants to remove the recently used slaves and replace them with `fresh stock' that have been flushed out and re-lubricated ready for use by the customers. Standing nearby - and waiting impatiently - are three boys, in their late teens, who are mercilessly taunting the unhappy slaves; loudly boasting of their sexual prowess and warning the slaves of what to `expect'. Simon and the official smile indulgently at the teenagers' boisterous behaviour and, obligingly, the official instructs his assistants to. "Hurry up. Can't you see we have some very eager customers waiting?" Then, the slave watches as the three teenagers move slowly down the line of kneeling slaves choosing which ones to fuck. They don't hurry in choosing; rather they take their time and enjoy the obvious distress of the anxious slaves. The slaves suffer the indignity of having their genitals manipulated and their ass-cracks spread wide to expose their abused anuses. Mischievously, the young men use their fingers to tease the sensitive tissue around the puckering holes thus causing the slaves to buck. This bucking by the slaves rattles the head-stocks and is the cause of much laughter and ribald comment from the teenagers. Finally, having chosen their slaves, the teenagers, demonstrating the full vigour of their youth, enthusiastically thrust their rampant cocks into their respective slaves. The slave looks on in fascinated horror. He watches the vigorous thrusting of the teenagers' hips as their `ride' their slaves hard. He notes the slaves' heads, locked into the stocks, bobbing each time a teenager drives hard into him. He hears the panting and soft moaning of the slaves and as he looks at their faces he sees the bleak despair and hopelessness reflected in their eyes. Although he is overcome with fear for his own future, he can't turn away from the sight of the three slaves being mercilessly fucked by the energetic teenagers. He hears the teenagers' exuberant shouts of pleasure each time they drive deep into the slaves' bodies. Even Simon's ponies have stirred themselves and are watching with obvious interest. Their cinched cocks, unlike the slave's, are rock solid hard and sticking out at right angles from their bellies; his own is hanging limp from shock and fear. The slave wonders why Simon has stopped here. Is it to give him a glimpse of his own future? Could his new master be so cruel? Does his master hope that by letting him see that this is his future, then the slave will want to delay the inevitable and remain in service at the Patroklos Club for as long as possible? Will this fear of being consigned to a comfort station at some future date make him more willing to please and harder working at the Club? Suddenly, the slave realises his fear of the comfort station is greater than the fear of him working as a pleasure slave. Already, his mind is being conditioned to accept his new life at the Patroklos; reflecting on the hopelessness of his situation he weighs up his options. Now he determines to delay being consigned to a comfort station for as long as possible and to apply himself conscientiously to his new role as a pleasure slave. He is unaware that until recently several of the slaves kneeling on the bench had worked at the Patroklos Club. Upon becoming redundant, the city had exercised its right to buy them and place them in service at the city's comfort stations. Simon had learned that some of his former slaves were working at this particular station and, out of curiosity; he had stopped to watch them at work. The slave's thoughts are rudely interrupted by an exultant shout from one of the teenagers. As he ejaculates into his slave, the teenager continues to shout and triumphantly pumps the air with his clenched fist and then, finally spent, he collapses and lies on the slave's sweaty back. As he lies there, he watches as his friends continue to plough the slaves beneath them. Soon, they too are shouting out their ecstasy before they too collapse onto the backs of their sweating, panting slaves. Finally, when the three are sufficiently recovered, they pull out of the slaves and with a series of contemptuous slaps on the slaves' asses they thank the official for a `great fuck' and take their leave. Quickly, the humiliated slaves are freed from the bench and taken away by the slave assistants for cleansing. They are immediately replaced by three fresh slaves who must now wait, acquiescently, for the inevitable assaults on their bodies. Simon takes his leave of the official and climbing back into his rickshaw, he loudly slaps the reins on the ponies' shoulders with the instruction to. "WALK ON!" Skilfully he guides them through the crowded square before turning into a less crowded side street. Here, he applies the whip to the ponies' rumps with the order to. "Trot on!" Effortlessly, they increase their speed. The slave, fastened by his leash to the rickshaw must keep pace with them. They continue on for another fifteen minutes before arriving in front of a brick warehouse which bears a sign above its entrance. SAMUEL NORTON SLAVE CHANDLERS BRANDING & MINOR OPERATIONS INFIBULATIONS & OTHER AUGMENTATIONS A SPECIALTY SLAVES KITTED OUT All Work Guaranteed >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> PART 2: The Assessment SIMON! Good Afternoon. What brings you here so late in the day?" The slave's response to this loud welcome to his new Master is to steal a fleeting glance at the man walking across the enclosed courtyard towards them with his hand held out in greeting. The man has a large, powerful frame and is of an indeterminate age - the slave estimates this at somewhere in the forty-plus range. He has a bald, smooth head that shines with perspiration in the late afternoon sunlight. His round face is dominated by his piercing dark eyes and thin lips and is framed by a short black beard. He wears a sleeveless vest that displays a powerful chest covered with dense black hair; as do his forearms. A young, naked slave walks behind him. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting Simon." The man apologises as he vigorously shakes Simon's hand. "Has my yard porter taken good care of you?" He asks pointing to a trembling slave kneeling in obeisance. "If not, just tell me and he'll be punished." "Good afternoon, Sam. There's no need to apologise - after all I did call in unannounced, and yes, your yard porter attended to me with the utmost courtesy and efficiency, thank you." "It's just as well he did. He's out of favour at the moment." "Why, what has he done to earn your displeasure?" Simon asks. "He's been accused by some of my clients of showing disrespect and disinterest in his dealings with them. Only yesterday, I had one client complain bitterly about his surliness. And he's exhibiting bad temper towards my other slaves. As you'd appreciate these are all intolerable traits for a slave to exhibit. You can see from his back that I've had to punish him several times of late." "Do you know what's causing his bad behaviour?" "No not at all, Simon. Until lately, he's always been a well behaved slave and because of his good attitude, I gave him a responsible position as my yard porter. Up until now, he's always performed his duties efficiently and cheerfully. I don't really know what's gotten into him to cause him to display such bad behaviour. But I WON"T put up with it." The slave in question trembles as his master discusses his bad behaviour and he is grateful that Simon's comments have spared him further punishment. His back already displays the several layers of his previous punishments. At the bottom layer are the fading pinkish-red welts of his first punishment and superimposed on these are the welts from his two subsequent whippings - ranging in colour blue-black bruises to angry red stripes. The slave is fortunate in that his owner doesn't allow the skin to be broken during a flogging; nevertheless, the pain he feels is acute and he is now determined not to annoy his master. To this end he has resolved to mend his ways and to be a good slave. Suddenly, his feet are kicked apart by his master and he is ordered to. "DISPLAY PROPERLY! Spread your knees. Get your head to the ground. Raise your ass. NOW! " The chastened slave hastens to comply and now his heavily cinched balls swing freely between his thighs and his ass is open to scrutiny. "See what I mean?" Sam snaps angrily. I have to watch him the whole time to ensure he is doing as he is supposed to do. I don't know what it is about slaves; you treat them well but they always try to take advantage of your good nature. You'd think they would be grateful to have a considerate master, wouldn't you?" "There's nothing worse than a troublesome slave." Simon sympathises. "When I do encounter one, I usually cut my losses and sell him on. But it's not a problem I have to worry about too often. Most of my slaves are happy to delay being sold for as long as possible. They know that their next stop could well be at a comfort station. The fear of that's enough to keep them sweet tempered." Simon laughingly adds. "I've had this particular slave for a number of years now and you're right; perhaps it's time to send him to the dealers. I guess his age is around thirty and I would think his options at auction are limited; most likely he'll spend his remaining years as a heavy duty, work slave. Yes, I think that's what I'll do; I'll send him to next week's auction. In the meantime I can keep him in order by using my whip to tickle his back a bit more." The now panic stricken slave shuffles around spreading is legs further apart and elevating his rump even higher in an attempt to appease his Master. He begins to plead plaintively. "I'm sorry, Master. Please forgive me, Master. Master, I'll behave Master. Please don't sell me, Master." His pleas are ignored. "I'm sorry, Simon." Sam apologises. "I guess you're not here to talk about my troublesome slave?" Then, looking at Simon's new slave, he adds. "Let me guess, you have a new slave in need of processing. Am I right?" "Indeed you are, Sam. As you can see I've just taken delivery of a new slave and I'd like you to get him ready for service at the Patroklos Club". "He's a prime slave. How did you come by him?" "He only came on the market yesterday. Dave Matheson was handling his sale and he usually draws my attention to any slave he thinks I'd be interested in purchasing for the club. He told me about this one and once I'd inspected him I bought him immediately." "It would appear you have purchased well, Simon. He's top quality. What do you have in mind for him?" "He's to serve at the highest level as a pleasure slave and I need you to prepare him for his training." "So what do you have in mind - the usual? What you'd like is removal of his body hair, branding, collaring and ringing? I know you like to keep it simple. Fortunately for the slave, I won't need to skin him." "Yes, I think that's all that will need to be done. As you said - I like to keep it simple; just like my clients prefer." "I wonder Simon, if I could ask for your opinion on a new initiative of mine. As you possibly know, I now operate an after-sales booth at Dave Matheson's auctions and I'm keen to give his clients a proper level of service. I think it's important for them to see the standard of service I can offer. I've set up a couple of display boards where they can peruse all the services I offer. Could I ask you to look at one of my displays and give me an honest assessment? In view of your wide experience with slaves, I'd really appreciate your opinion." "Of course Sam, I'm only too happy to oblige. Let's see your display. Take me to it." "There's no need to Simon." Sam laughs. "The display is already here." Then, turning to the slave who had followed him into the yard he barks the order to. "STAND AND DISPLAY!" Once the slave is in the display position, Sam adds. "Here he is Simon. What do you think?" Simon is taken by surprise and runs a practised eye over the young slave's smooth, naked body and is pleasantly surprised. Aged about twenty, the slave is tall, well proportioned, with a pleasant appearance and has brown hair and eyes. His body is finely honed, with a clearly defined musculature and his tight, firm buttocks are delightfully curvaceous and held high. Simon believes he would be quite at home at the Patroklos Club; except for one thing. The slave's body is heavily adorned with slave jewellery; Simon thinks this decoration is overdone. But he now knows that it is done for a reason; the slave is in fact one of the walking display boards that Sam Norton proposes to use to show off his wares to his prospective customers. The adornments that this slave wears are made of highly polished, gold coloured metal that contrasts beautifully with his deeply tanned hide. Apart from the heavy neck collar, the slave is also fitted with large nipple rings, a navel bar, earrings and a snout ring. He wears amulets around both biceps and matching bands around his wrists and ankles. Prominent on his right pectoral is a large, ornamental, freshly healed brand and Simon can see it is more recent than the S seared into the slave's left flank. However, Simon's gaze is centred on the slave's genitals. The slave is extremely well-endowed with a long, thick cock and heavy balls that swing between his strong thighs. The cock and balls are gathered together in a three ring cinch that forces them into prominent display- Simon thinks that it makes for an extremely attractive package. It is the semi-erect cock, however that intrigues Simon. A heavy ring passes through the shaft of the circumcised cock just behind the knob- useful for leashing the slave - and running parallel down the underside of the penis is a Jacob's ladder or a series of small, frenum bars. Simon frowns at the slave's overall appearance; he believes it is spoiled by this overuse of body jewellery. But, for any owner wishing to decorate his own newly bought slave, the choice is made easier; he can actually view a slave whose body is already fitted with the adornments he is considering fitting on his new slave. Simon admires Sam Norton's ingenuity in presenting his prospective clients with such graphic examples of his handiwork. "Well, Simon, what do you think?" "Sam, I congratulate you." Simon laughs heartily. "I admire your advertising skills and I have to admit it's putting the slave to good use. But tell me - how many display boards do you plan to use?" "At the moment I'm only using two. However, I may expand on this number if it is warranted. The other slave is kitted out in silver and has different fittings to this one. As it's only a recent new idea of mine, I haven't had them on display yet. But I intend to introduce them to the public at Saturday's auction. My thought is to have them stand at display - one on either side of the entrance to my booth. Hopefully, their appearance might encourage customers to bring their newly purchased slaves in for augmentation." "Sam, I think it's a wonderful idea and I compliment you on business acumen. Having the slaves display your wares should prove to be very popular with your clientele. But will the slaves be available for close hands-on inspections? Will you allow any interested parties to handle the slaves and inspect their bodies and your adornments?" "I hadn't given any thought to that. Do you think that's necessary, Simon?" "Yes I do, Sam. Putting myself into the shoes of one of your clients, I would want to inspect the quality of the fittings you use - and I know from experience that you use only the best - and to inspect that the flesh of the slaves has healed properly after their piercings and other operations. I should think a potential customer would want to know how their new purchase will heal after branding or skinning. Anyway, I assume your other display board is as appealing as this one. If you allow access to them, then both slaves could prove to be powerful enticements in bringing customers into your booth." "Thank you for your suggestion, Simon. I see the wisdom in what you're saying and will act on your suggestion. But that's enough of my concerns. Let's get back to your new slave. With your permission I would like to start my inspection of him?" "Go ahead, Sam. That's why we're here. He's at your disposal." "STAND AND DISPLAY!" Sam barks at the slave. Now, with his feet apart, the slave is posed, for the second time today and ready for inspection. Standing rigidly erect with his broad shoulders squared, his chest thrust out and belly sucked in, he bows his head in submission. His muscular chest rises and falls and his powerful stomach muscles ripple and flex in unison with his laboured breathing. The slave feels the throbbing artery at the side of his neck and, as usually happens when under inspection; his body begins a nervous quivering. He is aware of the involuntary clenching an unclenching of his buttocks and he feels his anus squirming as he considers the possibility of a digital exploration. He feels his balls moving within the confines of his tightening scrotum and his cock, acting in anticipation of its own impending inspection, begins to gradually inch itself back into life. Slowly, Sam walks around the slave pausing to assess the body from each angle. The slave feels an occasional hand placed upon his body or a sharp finger pressed into his firm flesh. Then, finally, he is aware that Sam is standing directly in front of him. Gently, Sam begins to ruffle the hair on the slave's chest; the slave quivers at his touch. Sam smiles at the slave's reaction to this and continues with his inspection. Wrapping the slave's chest hair around the tips of his fingers he begins a gentle tugging. He is evaluating the hair's strength subject to its removal; he is, in fact, judging just how much depilatory solution he'll need to apply to the slave and the duration it will remain on the body before its work is done. The hair has a fine, silky texture and Sam assesses the slave will be easy to strip. He decides to use a weaker solution but nevertheless he will leave it on overnight allowing time for it to take effect. First, the slave will be hosed down and scrubbed clean before being chained, spreadeagled into a purpose built, and upright frame. This allows access to all parts of the slave's naked body making it easier to apply the depilatory solution. There, he will remain suspended overnight thus allowing plenty of time for the solution to do its work. Unfortunately, the slave will have an uncomfortable night - but that can't be helped. He can, at least, be thankful that he requires only a weak application of the solution; slaves with thick, coarse coverings of body hair have to endure the pain of the full strength solution. Sam always insists these slaves are gagged as he finds their cries of distress annoying and intrusive. Next, he turns his attention to the slave's nipples as he assesses them for their new rings. As he stretches and twists them, he is deciding how deep into the slave's flesh he needs to go. Sam always prefers to embed the rings well under the nipples; this allows the slave's user plenty of purchase for manipulation of the rings. Sam knows that this slave will be subjected to much vigorous handling at the Patroklos Club - the last thing that Simon would want is for his new slave to be damaged by having his nipple torn by an over-enthusiastic client. Still, the slave doesn't present any problems; both of his prominent nipples are delightful to the touch and, judging by the slave's squirming, they are also very sensitive. Sam feels they will prove to be popular with Simon's clients and will be much fondled. Now, using his index finger, Sam follows the slave's treasure trail down over the undulating abdominal muscles and into the thick, pubic bush - although recently trimmed - he knows he will need to apply a stronger solution just here. The slave's fully erect cock is standing out at right angles to the muscled plain of his belly and both balls are now held tightly in his scrotum. As Sam strokes the cock, he is rewarded with a dribble of pre-cum oozing out of the piss-slit. Obviously the slave is easily excited and Sam decides this will also work in the slave's favour at the Club. As he enjoys the slave's responses to his touch, Sam is also gauging the genitals for cinching. Of course, the slave is fully aroused and it isn't easy to gauge the size of the cinch ring that he'll need to use. But Sam has much experience in these matters and knows that the slave, even at rest, is extremely well-endowed and he will require a larger than usual cinch ring. He knows that Simon likes the cocks of his pleasure slaves to be on prominent show and for them to wear their testicles suspended well down in their low hanging ball-sacs. This slave should present well to the patrons of the Patroklos Club. "Is everything alright?" Simon asks suddenly. "The slave doesn't present a problem does he, Sam?" "No not at all, Simon. Why do you ask?" "It's just that you haven't made any comments and I thought possibly you'd found fault with him, Sam." "I'm sorry, Simon. My silence was just a case of me enjoying my work. The slave is a delight to handle. I truly envy your patrons once they have access to him. No, I was thinking it's a pity to strip him of his body hair. I think it's one of his finer features - but then I prefer my slaves to have a bit of meat on their bones and to have hairy chests." "I have to agree with you, Sam. I think the slave's body is enhanced by his chest covering and I'm attracted to the way his hair trails down over his belly to his cock. But my patrons like my slaves to be smooth bodied and I have to meet their requirements - otherwise I'd go out of business." "Personally I enjoy fucking a hairy slave; but that's just my preference. I've never been able to work out why some men will only use smooth bodied slaves. Perhaps, it's because a hairy slave reminds them of themselves and, in that, they have feelings of insecurity. I guess they think that if a slave has a smooth, hairless body, then he isn't a man and it's alright to use him. What they forget is that a slave - hairy or smooth - isn't a man and it shouldn't make any difference in fucking him. Well, that's my opinion, anyway." "And it's an interesting one too, Sam. Perhaps you're right? I know I've NEVER received a request for a hairy slave at the club. Obviously, my patrons like their slaves to have glabrous bodies and of course, I give them what they want." "You're right of course, Simon. We're both businessmen and we have to pander to our customers' needs. Even though my personal preference is for hairy slaves, a major part of my business is the removal of body hair from slaves, so I just do it and give the client what he wants. After all, he owns the slave and is entitled to do with it whatever he feels is in his own best interests." "That's a very wise attitude, Sam. And I'm relieved to know there isn't a problem with my slave." Suddenly, Sam orders the slave to. "TURN! BEND AND SPREAD!" The slave hastens to comply and with his feet spread wide and his head at knees height; he reaches behind and dutifully prises his buttocks apart. Now he is overcome with the humiliation that he always feels when ordered into this most degrading of positions. He feels the warm flush of his embarrassment burning in his face and his body trembles with the shame that engulfs him. Guiltily, he knows that soon he'll feel pleasure at the inevitable examination of the most private parts of his body. He shivers as he anticipates the intrusion of a finger into the deep, secret recesses of his being. He doesn't have long to wait. He quivers at the touch of a finger as it wanders up and down the crevasse of his ass; pausing to tease his sensitive anus. His knees tremble and his legs shake as the finger continues to excite him and he feels his already erect prick grow even harder. He looks back between his legs to those of the man who is standing behind him - the man who is gently teasing, tormenting and frustrating him. He sees his own balls swinging low between his thighs and he feels his cock bobbing up and down in tune with his rapid breathing. His churning balls are crying out for release and he feels the first, tiny precursors of pleasure as his pre-cum oozes out to moisten the tip of his glans. Suddenly he cries out as the finger rudely thrusts into him. He wriggles in enjoyable discomfort and he moans with pleasure as the finger massages his prostate gland. He whimpers softly as the finger slowly fucks him. He is lost in the enjoyment of the moment and feels the mounting pressure in his balls as they seek to unload for the second time this afternoon. He hasn't been given permission to discharge and it takes all his previous training to prevent this from happening. And, as always, he anticipates the inevitable frustration and disappointment suffered by all slaves - that of being denied a spontaneous ejaculation. He simply submits to these manipulations of his body; after all, as a slave, he has no other choice. "I have to say, Simon, you've got a winner with this one. He's tight and very responsive. I'm sure that he'll prove to be a popular addition to your stable of pleasure slaves." "I hope you're right, Sam. I'm looking to recoup my investment in him in the shortest possible time. Still, averaging it out over five years, he should pay for himself many times over; and like all my slaves, he'll be made to work hard." The slave gasps as, unexpectedly, his scrotum is pulled down and away from his body; he feels his balls being worked to the bottom of his sac. Almost lovingly, each is rolled between Sam's fingers before being subjected to a gentle squeeze. "The slave has a great pair of knockers". Sam volunteers. "They're a good size and his ball-sac has a silky smooth feel to it." "You really do enjoy your work don't you, Sam?" Simon laughs in reply. Now, he is aware of a hand reaching in under his belly and the slave feels a fingertip delicately stroking the underside of his penis with feather like gentleness. He responds by moving his hips backwards and forwards in unison with the finger still thrusting into him. Hungrily, his muscles grip the intruding finger in a tight embrace and try to draw it deeper into him. He feels the involuntary working of these muscles as they grip and then relax their hold of Sam's finger. The slave is in a delirium of delight and he suffers the exquisite agony of having the sensitive underside of his cock teased as, at the same time, his hole is fucked. The slave's mind is a tangle of confused and conflicting thoughts. He knows that his body is being abused against his will; yet, if he is honest with himself, he has to admit to enjoying this misuse of him as an object of pleasure. His enjoyment is stronger than any sense of shame that he currently feels. He considers his future at the Patroklos Club. He knows that he will be forced to submit to his new master's patrons and he now wonders if he'll find those experiences as rewarding as this one. He sincerely hopes so and shivers in anticipation. Perhaps, just perhaps, his life as a `pleasure slave' will have its rewards? Suddenly, Sam withdraws his fingers from the slave's body leaving it in a state of unfulfilled desire. His hole feels strangely empty and his prick twitches with disappointment. Now, as his hands roam over the soft, down covered cheeks of the slave's buttocks, Sam marvels at their warm, silky smoothness. He slaps the slave's hands away and prises wide the cleft to examine the hair growth around the puckering hole. He notes that some work will be required to meet the demands of Simon's clients. "Fortunately, the slave's ass isn't too hairy. He just has a light, fuzzy covering of baby down; quite easy to remove." Sam tells Simon. "However, I'll need to work on his crack; there's some longer, coarser growth in there, I'm afraid. It's a pity really - I do like a slave who has `grass growing at the entrance to the burrow'. Still we have to give your clients what they want." Then as Sam traces the outline of the S brand on the slave's left flank he adds almost as an after-thought. "Excellent, the slave takes the branding iron very well indeed. His brand is sharp and crisp and the outline is clearly defined - just as it should be." The inspection now finished, Sam slaps the slave on the ass and orders him to. "STAND! FACE THE FRONT AND DISPLAY!" "Simon, I have to say this is one of the best slaves you have had me work on. Look, I'll go further and say he is the BEST slave to date. My congratulations to you! When you have him up and running, I'll have to visit the Patroklos and sample him for myself." "Please do visit the club, Sam. And they'll be no charge; you can use the slave for free." "That's generous of you, Simon. But look.... I'm sorry.... I wasn't hinting for a free fuck. It's just that the slave has a very appealing ass and my comment was made in jest." "I know you weren't, Sam. Let's say this is my way of thanking you for looking after the special needs for my slaves." "Then I accept your kind offer and thank you, Simon. Now, when do you want me to begin work on him?" "Whenever, it's convenient for you to do so, Sam. The sooner the better as far as I'm concerned. I'm keen to start his training as soon as possible." "I have several other jobs underway at the moment, but one more won't make a lot of difference. If you like, I can make a start on your slave today?" "That's great; Sam and I really appreciate it." "Good! I'll get my slaves to take him away and make a start on him. He'll spend the night in a stripping frame and then in the morning we'll hose him down and clean him up. Then we'll collar him, fit his rings and cinch his genitals. After that, all that needs to be done is to brand him. I'll need your branding iron, however. Do you want me to send a `boy' over to the club to collect it or will you arrange to have it delivered here?" "There's no need for either, Sam. I came prepared and have the brand with me; it's in a bag under the seat of my rickshaw. I'll go and get it." "Stay where you are, Simon. My slave will fetch it; after all that's what he's here for. Anyway why keep a dog and bark yourself, I always say." Then Sam turns to the still kneeling yard porter and orders. "ON YOUR FEET! Run and fetch Master Jackson's bag from under the seat of his carriage. COME ON! MOVE YOURSELF!" The slave, anxious to please his angry Master scrambles to his feet and hastens to carry out his instructions. "RUN! I SAID MOVE YOUR LAZY ASS AND BE QUICK ABOUT IT! QUICKLY!" Sam shouts after the slave. The contrite slave hastily retrieves the bag and returns; he passes the bag to the young display slave as instructed and drops to his knees. He is ignored by his Master. "Simon, I notice your ponies are restless. They seem to be doing a lot of fidgeting." "Are they? I hadn't noticed, Sam. I suppose they could be thirsty; come to think of it they haven't had any water since lunchtime. Or it could be that they need to relieve themselves. I've trained them not to urinate in public." "Would you like my slave to give them water, Simon?" "Yes please, Sam. I suppose they do need a drink. It's a very hot day and they still have a lot of running to do. But would you instruct your slave not to overwater them. I don't want a lot of water sloshing around in their bellies as they run - it makes them too sluggish and slows them down. In fact, I always run my ponies on empty stomachs. I only give them a very light feed in the morning; they have to wait until evening when they've finished their duties for their main feed. I've always found that a pony performs best on an empty belly." "Back up on your feet and attend to Master Jackson's ponies." Sam instructs his porter. "COME ON! You heard Master Jackson - don't give his ponies too much to drink. Then get a bucket and help them to piss. QUICKLY! MOVE YOURSELF!" "Sam, I notice you refer to me as Master Jackson rather than Mr Jackson when speaking to your slave. Why is that?" Simon asks as he watches the porter hurry off to obey his master's orders. "Oh! It's just a matter of courtesy, really, Simon. I refer to all my clients as `Master' in the presence of my slaves. I believe it's important for a slave to see all free men as either a master or a potential master. It fixes in their minds that they are worthless slaves and all free men are their masters. After all, a slave really does need to know his true worth, doesn't he? I never miss an opportunity to impress that upon a slave." "That makes sense. But tell me Sam; when will my slave be ready for pick-up?" "We'll make a start on him immediately and scrub him down ready for hair stripping - that'll happen overnight. Then, in the morning we'll hose him down and then kit him out with his collar, rings and cinch. That won't take very long. Speaking of collars; do you want me to fit him with a new one or do you have a re-cycled one from the club I can use? I appreciate a platinum collar is very expensive and usually you do have a spare collar or two as you downgrade your slaves from platinum to gold." "No I don't have any spares at the club at the moment. So you'll need to use a new collar on him. I have two or three downgrades pending; but these won't happen for a few more weeks yet. I suppose you have a platinum collar in stock, Sam?" "Simon, I've always got a few spares, as I know you'll require them at some time. But what about his identification number? Do you know what it is?" "Yes Sam, I do. I checked before I left the club. His number is `327'. That's how'll he'll be known to the club's patrons." "Good! Then I'll have his number engraved on the collar before it's fixed around his neck. Now what about his branding? Naturally it'll be done last. Do you want to be present, Simon?" "I'm not sure whether I'll have time. I have several appointments I must keep in the morning. It's unlikely I'll be free until lunchtime, Sam." "Look Simon. If you like, I can hold back on his branding until you have time to be present. After all it doesn't take long to apply a brand - just a few seconds really. I can have the slave strapped down ready for when you arrive." "Thank you, Sam. I could be here shortly after midday if that's a convenient time for you?" "Then, I'll make it so, Simon. I think it's important for a slave to have his new owner present when he is branded. He needs to feel his Master's presence as the brand is seared into his hide. It helps to fix into his mind that the brand he now wears identifies him as belonging to his new Master. And I think it helps the Master to accept that the slave is now truly his. I always feel the Master's presence as a slave is branded is a bit like witnessing the birth of one's child." "That's an interesting comparison, Sam." Simon laughs. "I'd never thought of a branding in quite those terms. I'll bear that in mind tomorrow as I watch my new slave being branded. After that I can take him with me back to the Patroklos Club ready to begin his training in earnest." "Simon, you realise it'll take a few days for the slave to heal. You'll need to be easy on him for a start. He is after all a very valuable piece of property." "I know, Sam and I will start him off lightly, don't worry. For the first few days he'll be instructed in slave etiquette and good manners. He was only a field hand until yesterday and he lacks the basics of good behaviour I require of my slaves when serving the needs my clients." "Well then, Simon. Thank you for your custom and I'm sure you'll be pleased with the results when you take delivery of him tomorrow. I'll personally make sure he lives up to your expectations - at least in appearance. The rest will be up to you and your trainers." "I hope for his sake, the slave is a fast learner and doesn't try my patience. And thank you, Sam, for your prompt service. As always, I know I can count on you." The slave, soon to be known as `327' is now led away to begin his transformation into the newest addition to the stable of `pleasure slaves' at the Patroklos Club. As they shake hands, Simon adds. "Oh by the way, Sam. Good luck at Saturday's auction with your display boards. I'm sure they'll prove to be very popular." To be continued.............

Phillip's Story Chapter 5 "Phillip is taken to the Vet" This is a work of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): July, 2012 Read my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be reproduced without his permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures." Writer's Note: This is a fictionalized account of actual events that happened to my slave friend, "Phillip" - not his real name - very recently. Of course, it does contains some embellishments to make it more interesting to readers. "Phillip is taken to the Vet" All day in my office, the impending visit to the Vet is uppermost on my mind. My current work load is very heavy and requires all my concentration and yet, always at the back of my mind is this evening's visit to the Vet for my annual check-up. This morning, Master and I had left home together and driven just the one car to the railroad station where we caught the train and travelled into the city. Master's appointment with the Vet was for 6.00 PM and I had to leave work an hour earlier than normal and meet Master at Penn Station. We then caught the train back to our local railroad station where we picked up the car and drove to the Vet's consulting rooms. As I chauffeured Master to keep his appointment, I thought back over the reasons for why Master is taking me to see the Vet. Master is most fastidious about my welfare. My health and wellbeing are important to him and paramount to my good service to him as his slave. My Master typifies all Black Superiors who, from my experience, value their white slaves' health. After all, what Black Superior wants to worry over a sickly or unfit white slave? And of course, our inferior white status and our inherent physical weaknesses do give our Black Masters just cause for concern. They must be ever vigilant in their watch over us. As with any other white slave, my real worth to my Master is in my ability to serve him faithfully and well and to work hard to make his life as enjoyable as I possibly can. This is my reason for being. It is my true life's calling and my `raison d'etre'. I exist for one reason only and that is to serve my Master with all the love and devotion that resides within me. I have willingly given my life to my Master and it is his to do with whatever he chooses! Master lives on a secluded six acre plot made even more private by the large number of trees that screen us from prying eyes. We are fortunate that we have no neighbours to worry us and of course this allows me to work naked fulltime both indoors and outdoors. And this is as it should be; nudity after all is the natural condition for all white slaves who serve Black Superiors. Master's is a large, two storied house which requires much upkeep and it keeps me busy of an evening and at weekends. Master is a stickler for good housekeeping and I am kept busy with the usual household chores like cooking and serving meals, cleaning, polishing, laundry and the myriad of other things that go to make life pleasant for my Master. Master, takes a special interest in my work and always inspects what I have done. Sometimes Master will lead me by my cock on a tour of inspection of my works. At other times, I crawl on all fours at Master's heels as he moves around the house. If my efforts meet Master's high standards, then nothing is said. A slave doesn't need praise for doing his chores properly, does he? But if my work falls short of Master's requirements, then, quite rightly, I am castigated and justifiably punished. As with all aspects of my life, Master has worked out a program and a timetable for me. For example, every Friday night, Master calls me to him and presents me with a menu for the next week and a food and grocery list. Each Saturday morning, I rise early - well I wake early every morning - and I shop while Master is still in bed. When I return from my shopping, I serve Master his breakfast and I wait in the modified slave position as he gives me instructions for the day. The six acres of grounds include a swimming-pool, a cabana and a barbecue area that have to be maintained as well as the garden beds and shrubberies. And of course, mowing of the grounds is a major part of my duties. Naturally, all of these require my constant attention under Master's supervision. Master loves to entertain and it's not uncommon for him to invite his Black Superior friends to swim in the pool on a hot day and to enjoy a BBQ meal served by myself and the visiting Superiors' slaves. It's always gratifying to me - and to my slave brothers - to serve our Masters and to watch them frolicking in the pool on a hot day. What greater joy is there for a white slave than to see his Black Master spontaneously enjoying himself? As we slaves stand at poolside ready to hurry forward to dry our Masters of to serve them refreshments, we sometimes envy them their freedom to swim and enjoy a cool drink. But we never lose sight of our primary reason for being there. We are there to serve our Masters and our needs are of no consequence. Master insists that most of our vegetables are home grown and he has established a very productive vegetable patch that I must maintain - again under his supervision. This involves digging over the garden beds, fertilising them and planting out the seedlings followed by my nurturing of them as they grow to maturity. In winter there are open fireplaces to maintain; wood to chop and store and on occasions, I must clear the snow from the driveway and pathways. And throughout the year there are cars to be cleaned and maintained in the immaculate condition that Master expects and demands of me. I mention these things only to show why it is important to Master that I stay healthy. Master needs me to be fit to attend to the many chores that are a necessary part of my lot as his slave. My primary role - indeed my only one - is to spare my Master all unnecessary domestic activity and to allow him to relax in comfort and without undue worry. Accordingly, once a year, Master takes me to the Vet for a complete medical examination and usually I'm given my flu shots during those visits. If at other times, my health gives Master cause for concern, then he'll also take me to the Vet for treatment and a few months ago, Master was indeed concerned for the healthy state of my balls. Over the previous weekend, Master and some other Superiors had played a polo match where the slaves were used as the polo ponies. The game was a lot of fun and was played with great enthusiasm by the Superiors. The ponies were ridden hard and whipped even harder to get the very best out of them. Master, in an effort to encourage me to greater speed, used his crop on my low hanging balls. It has to be said nothing spurs a pony or a slave to greater effort that a sharp rap to the scrotum with a crop. I can vouch for that! Unfortunately, my balls had red welts afterwards and were very sore. Master kept a wary eye on them and eventually decided to take me to the vet for an inspection for any possible damage. Of course, I appeared naked before the vet and his female Black nurse. This is standard procedure and I'm sure the nurse is well-accustomed to seeing naked, white, male slaves. I'm sure she sees us as just another form of livestock and doesn't turn a hair at handling our bodies. The vet examined my balls and found they'd not been damaged. However, he did give Master a salve to use on them and over the next day or so Master applied it most fastidiously. My testicles mean a lot to Master. The vet asked Master how I came by my sore balls and Master explained that it had happened at a polo game. This interested both the Vet and his nurse and they asked Master more about the game. Both said they'd like to witness such a polo match where white slaves are ridden by their Black Owners and they showed much interest and asked to be informed if another game was ever organised. I think the nurse's interest was very genuine. I sincerely believe she'd like to watch Black Superiors using their white slaves as polo ponies. I have since learned that she and the Vet have been invited to watch a polo match scheduled for August. All that day, the thought of my return visit to the Vet played on my mind. Nervously, I kept looking at my watch and dreading the time when I must leave the office to meet Master at Penn Station. I do dislike going to the Vet. I guess for me it's the humiliation that I feel as I am presented for the Vet's inspection by my Master. I always feel there is little to distinguish me from a well-loved dog or other household pet. But inevitably, the time does arrive for me to leave my office and I meet Master. When we arrive, the clinic is closed for the day and Master, as arranged, uses his cell phone to call the Vet's receptionist and advise her of his arrival. The door is unlocked and I follow Master inside. There is a set procedure that a slave must adhere to before he is taken into the Vet's consulting room. Once through the door, Master waits as I shuck off my business suit until I am completely naked. Then, very carefully, I hang my clothes in a closet set aside for that purpose. As I do so, I see that there are other clothes hanging in the closet which indicates that I'm not the only slave present. I follow Master into the reception area and over to a desk where a Black Mistress - I estimate her age as being in her twenties - is working. Master approaches her and I assume the full display position with my feet apart and my hands behind my head. I stand silently and listen as Master and the receptionist discuss me. They talk about me but not to me. I am a slave and of no consequence. As Master's property, all details are left to him to finalise. The receptionist eyes rake over my naked body as she visually appraises me. Her gaze wanders from my head down over my nudity to my feet. Then she asks Master. "What is your animal's name?" "He's called `Phillip'." "And why is your animal here? What's the purpose of this evening's visit?" "I've brought him here for his annual check-up." "Has the animal's insurance changed since its last check-up?" "No!" "Is the animal up-to-date with all its current shots?" "Yes!" "In that case the animal's co-payment is $10.00." Master pays the $10.00 and is handed a receipt. "As you can see there is another Superior ahead of you." The receptionist tells Master. "If you'd like to take a seat and would you have your animal kneel at your side with its legs spread wide, please?" My humiliation washes over me and my nakedness burns red with my shame. But why should I be humiliated? I know that what the receptionist just said to Master is true. I am just a slave animal and an inferior white one at that. Master moves to a seat and sits down. I kneel at his side with my legs splayed as wide as possible so that my cock and balls are on full display and lower my head. As I do so, I catch a glimpse of another Superior and his slave. Like my Master this Superior is Black and he is aged about twenty, His slave is considerably older - I estimate his age as forty-five or there about. The slave is like me. Naked and kneeling at his Master's side with his legs spread wide and his head bowed. Like me his cock and balls are prominently displayed. Master looks at the young Superior and smiles his greeting. "Hi! How are you?" "I'm well thank you." The young Superior smiles at Master and tells him. "The vet has just taken a female slave in for an examination so I guess we have a little while to wait." "That's a fine looking slave you have there." Master compliments the young Superior. "Thank you! Yes he is a fine slave. He's just new to slavery and still undergoing training. "Tell me about your boy." Master invites "He's a fine property. How did you come by him?" "He fell into my lap so to speak. I'm at College and he is my college professor. On my very first day he hit on me; I played my cards right and it went from there. I soon had him eating out of my hand and before long he was my slave." The young Master slaps his slave's face to gain his attention and asks. "Isn't that right boy?" "Yes Master!" The slave answers respectfully. "So the slave is your professor during the day is that correct? And you are the Master at home?" "Yes that correct! Technically speaking he is in charge at College but in name only. Always in his mind, he must acknowledge me as his Master. If, during the day, he offends me by his speech of attitude towards me, he is punished at home that same night. As you can see from his back and ass, he's offended me a lot lately." "How long have you owned him?" "For only a few weeks. Isn't that so, slave?" Another slap to the side of the face prompts the slave to answer. "Yes Master, That's correct Master." "So he's still very much undergoing his basic, introductory training?" "Indeed he is. And it's proving very painful for him. But I never tire of working with him to make him the slave I expect him to be. What about your boy? Have you owned him for long?" "I have owned my boy for eleven years. Although we were apart for the past twelve months while I worked out of state. But that's behind us now and we are together again. I have to say he disappointed me when I returned. During my absence, he regressed so much and he had slipped back into his old ways and bad habits. As you can see I've had to cane his ass a lot." "Does he have a name?" "Yes, I named him Phillip." "You've owned him for eleven years! Wow, that's a long time. I wonder if my slave, Timtam and I will still be together eleven years from now." "I don't see why not. Treat him with a firm hand and train him hard and he'll serve you faithfully and devotedly. That's the great thing about owning a white slave. Once he accepts that his true status is that of a slave to the Black Race and that his only purpose is to serve a Black Owner he'll be forever grateful and reward you with doglike loyalty. But be firm with him. White slaves expect their Masters to treat them with an iron fist. In fact, white slaves thrive under harsh Black Rule discipline." "Thank you for your advice! I'll certainly remember what you have said." "You've named your slave Timtam? That's unusual?" "Well, in College he's known and looked up to as Professor Timothy D'Isle Carstairs. That's too flash a name for a slave. So to keep him absolutely focused on being a slave I gave him the more derogatory name of Timtam." "I love it." Master laughs. "Of course I don't call my boy by his given name. He's known simply as slave Phillip. But tell me why is Timtam here? Is he ill?" "No, he's in good health! As you can see he's a bit out of condition but we're working on that aren't we boy?" "Yes Master!" "Well don't be shy, boy. Tell the Sir what we're doing to correct things." "Sir, Mast...... " "Speak up Timtam. We can't hear you!" The slave's young Master delivers a stinging slap to the slave's face. Crestfallen, he obeys and speaks louder. "Sir, my Master has placed me on a strict no fat diet and I have to exercise daily to improve my fitness." "Good for him! Boy, I hope you're grateful to your Master for his concern for your well-being?" "Yes Sir, I'm very grateful to my Master. And thank you Sir for your interest in me." Both Masters ignore the slave's words and the young Master continues with his reasons for bringing his slave to the surgery. "This is my slave's first `getting to know to know the Vet' visit. The Vet wants to examine him and give him all of his tests before placing him in his list of patients. I booked him in within a few days of enslaving him but because of the time it takes to enter a new slave into the system, today was the earliest the doctor could see him. And I understand that the doctor wants to give him his flu and tetanus shots today." "Those are very necessary for a slave's wellbeing. After he's examined, Phillip will be given his shots too." The two Superiors continue to talk as I and the other slave stay silent and of course, as expected by our Masters, we remain perfectly still. This is one of the cardinal rules of slave behaviour - a slave NEVER fidgets or makes any movements that cause embarrassment to his owner. In my case, this isn't a problem. Master has trained me well and I am able to maintain complete stillness for indefinite periods of time. But it wasn't always this way. Master had to work hard to teach me that unnecessary movement on my part was unacceptable behaviour. Initially, I was punished but with Master's perseverance - if not his patience - I did acquire the ability to stand or kneel immobile for lengthy periods of time. No Master wants to be distracted by a `fidgety' slave. A slave needs to be always on hand ready to step forward to serve his Master but at all other times he must stand silently and motionless in the background. I now have this ability whether it is serving Master and his guests in the dining-room or at a poolside barbecue. I stand unobtrusively with my hands clasped behind my back and resting on my ass. Apart from my breathing, the only movements I make are with my eyes which are firmly fixed on my Master and his needs. I am ever vigilant and ready to step forward immediately to serve him without his prompting. There is one other movement I make that I was unaware of until Master pointed it out to me. One Christmas, I was driving Master to visit his parents and we were talking about a recent story I'd read where the principal slave character was described as having a cock that twitched involuntarily. Master told me that my cock also twitches. This surprised me, but I am now well aware that it does. Sometimes this is commented on my Master's guests. So while I have the ability to kneel motionless, the other slave doesn't. He is very new to his slavery and I recall back to my early days and how hard it was for me to stay still. I sympathise with the slave as I imagine his cramped muscles and the stress placed on his lower back and his splayed knees. Suddenly, he is slapped by his Master and ordered to. "Stop fidgeting! Stay still and kneel quietly!" The slap reverberates loudly around the room and causes the receptionist to look up from her desk. Approvingly, she notes that the Master has his slave under his control and she returns to her work. At that moment, an inner door opens as a Black Mistress leaves the Vet's consulting room. She is followed by the Vet and a naked, white female slave. Mostly, my exposure to other slaves is with males. But some Superiors in Master's circle of friends do own female slaves and I do come into contact with them. White, female slaves aren't all that uncommon and within my Master's family there are several female slaves. Master's parents own two white slaves - one male and one female. Indeed Master grew up in a household where white slavery has flourished for many years. As boys, both Master and his brother, Sir Lachlan were exposed to slaves of both sexes. And I know within Master's extended family there are other female slaves. Master's uncle has a slave couple who were mated and produced a male progeny who also serves with them. Essentially my sexuality is `gay'. But I should hasten to say that my sexual orientation is unimportant. As a slave it is whatever my Master wishes it to be. Should my Master decide to couple me with another male slave then that is his right? But should he wish to breed me to a female that too is his choice and any reluctance or anti-female bias on my part is absolutely of no consequence and wouldn't be tolerated by Master. A slave's sexuality - as with his body - belongs to his Master! All choices belong to the Master and none to the slave who has only one option open to him; instant compliance with his Master's commands. A slave's role is to obey immediately and without comment. The Vet farewells the Mistress and as she and her slave leave, he calls for the young Superior to follow him into the examination room. As the slave stands and follows his Master through the door, I see that his ass and back are horribly marked by the whip and the cane. The tell-tale stripes and the blue-black bruising tell me that the slave has suffered much at his Master's hands. It also tells me that the slave has a strict Master which augers well for the slave and his training. He will learn quickly or suffer the painful consequences for his lack of diligence and inattention to detail. As an inferior, white slave, I know we can only learn through constant, harsh training and firm chastisement. In this, we are fortunate for there are no better teachers than our Black Masters. The silence in the room feeds my nervousness. From previous visits, I know I have approximately fifteen to twenty minutes before the Vet calls for Master when it will be my turn to be examined. Suddenly, we are joined by another Superior and his white slave. Both Master and slave are in their mid-twenties and as the Superior talks to the receptionist, the slave stands as I did in the display position. I hear the receptionist as she repeats the questions she'd asked Master. "What is your animal's name?" "And why is your animal here? What's the purpose of this evening's visit?" "Has the animal's insurance changed since its last visit?' And. "Is the animal current on all its shots?" These questions are routinely asked of every Black Superior who presents his white slave for a medical check-up. And you'd think I would be used to them. But each time I hear them repeated, I am reminded of what I really am - a naked, white, slave animal in service to the superior Black Race. The Superior takes a seat facing Master and his slave kneels by his side. Obediently, the slave spreads his knees and places his cock and balls on show then submissively lowers his head. I have a chance to fleetingly look at the slave and there are several things that I notice. The first it that the slave - despite his youth - is completely hairless and the second is the pallor of his skin. Without any hair it is hard to say what colour that hair would be. But judging from his brilliant blue eyes, I would guess he is a natural blond. As I look at him I can't help but contrast his almost ghostly white colour to that of his Black Master. His colour is cold while his Master has a rich, warm appearance. I wonder if the Master deliberately keeps this slave so pale to act as a counterfoil to his own complexion. I think about this and I'm stuck by the slave's insipid appearance. I believe he epitomises the vast gulf that separates the Black Race from the inferior white one. To me Black Superiors always look so alive, so vibrant and so vital. We whites on the other hand appear weak and puny by comparison. And this slave emphasises these points most eloquently. As I look at the slave I see the inherent weaknesses of the white race. I see that we are genetically inferior to all Blacks and we lack their vigour and vitality. By comparison we are but mere shadows of their inherent greatness. This slave demonstrates my own inherited weaknesses to me. Through him, I recognise that I am in all ways my Master's inferior. And I am overwhelmed with gratitude that Master has given me an opportunity to redeem myself in his eyes and the chance to serve him and through him to honour, serve and obey the wider Black community. I have much to be thankful for. I wish I could break my silence and to kiss my Master's feet in homage and tell him of my feelings. But I am an obedient slave and maintain my position and my silence. Perhaps later tonight, at home, I will be able to kneel at my Master's feet and to kiss them and express my feelings of gratitude to him. The minutes tick slowly by as Master awaits his consultation with the Vet. I guess some fifteen minutes later, the young Superior returns with his slave to the waiting room. He approaches the desk and his slave assumes the full display position and stands silently as his Master makes another appointment with the receptionist. I wonder why the slave is to return to the Vet. Then, they return to the closet where the Master orders his slave to dress before leaving the clinic. Still we wait! Then finally, the receptionist calls out Master's name and invites him to. "The Vet is ready for you and your property! Could you please take your animal through for its examination?" As Master walks towards the consulting-room, I scramble to my feet and hurry after him. It is now my turn to be examined and despite knowing what is to happen, I am overcome with nervousness. I have been in this room many times before. After all, I have been a slave for eleven years and these annual check-ups are more or less routine. And yet, they still make me nervous. I know I shouldn't be and that I must trust my Master's good judgment and wise decisions. In his infinite wisdom, Master has decided these yearly examinations are for my own good and therefore I should be grateful to him for his thoughtfulness. And I should recognize them as an indication of how highly Master values me as his property. I know my Master is fastidious in all things. He maintains his home and its surrounds in immaculate condition and ensures all is kept in excellent working order. His cars are serviced regularly and I am charged with seeing that they are kept clean and polished at all times. Given that Master values his possessions so highly, why then wouldn't he apply those same standards to his slave and his upkeep. I am just another of Master's possessions - and perhaps it's bigheaded of me - but I like to think that he prizes me as highly as any other of his worldly goods. I should recognize Master's benevolence in bringing me before the Vet for my examination. He has gone to considerable effort to bring me here this evening. Indirectly, I have disrupted his work schedule and he has altered his plans to accommodate me. I walk to the center of the room and stand at the full display position as Master greets the Vet and his nurse. All three are known to each other and their conversation is friendly. I am ignored; my presence in the room is probably noted but beyond that it is as though I don't exist. The Vet questions Master about his long absence working out of state and how he is resettling back into his old position. Their conversation continues for several minutes during which time my nervousness intensifies. Then the Vet begins his examination of my body. I know the routine he will follow and I stand still as he explores my body. He works dispassionately as his expert hands run over my arms and legs pausing to squeeze them in a test for my muscle tone. He gauges my chest and pulls at my nipples to check my reflexes. His hands roam down over my belly pinching it for any flabbiness and a finger is inserted into my navel; a visual check shows that it's as it should be - deeply indented with no protuberance. Next, the Vet turns me so that my back is to him. He gauges the width of my shoulders and examines my spinal column. He takes an ass cheek in either hand and squeezes hard before parting my buttocks and running his finger up my ass-crack. As his finger makes contact with my anus, a slight shudder runs through me. He reaches between my legs and grabs my scrotum. Then, releasing it, I am turned so that I face him once more. He takes my balls into a cupped hand and jiggles them up and down as though weighing them. The Vet takes hold of my cock and stretching it out from my groin, he squeezes my piss-slit causing me to flinch. He approach is dispassionate and he ignores my discomfort. It is as though I am of no more importance than a family pet. Several times, he pulls my cock away from my body and allows it to `slap' back into its resting position. This first part of my examination is over and the Vet now questions Master. "How has the slave's general health been?" "I don't know of any problems." Master answers. "I did keep a check on him when I was working out of state and he wasn't sick at all." What about his bladder? He's urinating ok?" "Yes he pees ok and there no problems there!" "Good! And what about his bowel movements - are they regular? Have you noticed any problems with him excreting?" "No, none at all!" "That's excellent! I'll check out his cardiovascular fitness." Over the next few minutes, the Vet checks my breathing and heart-beat, he takes my blood-pressure and he is pleased with the results. He tells Master. "Your slave's in good shape. His heart and lungs are sound and his blood-pressure is as I would expect it to be." The Vet's interest in me now moves to my head. As he minutely examines my ears, he tilts my head from one side to another and inserts an Otoscope to check my outer and middle ears. He is pleased and tells Master that both ears are free of infection or any build-up of wax. My eyes are the next to be inspected. He shines a thin needlepoint light into my eyes and pulls down on my bottom lid as he comments to Master. "His eyes are sound. The pupils aren't dilated and there's no yellowing of the whites." Now my head is pushed back as the Vet examines my nose. He shines his torch up each nostril and declares them to be clear and free of polyps. Now for the first time, he speaks to me and tells me to open my mouth wide and to poke out my tongue. I obey and the Vet orders me to raise and lower my tongue as he examines both it and my teeth. Again, I pass inspection and this is conveyed to Master. To date my inspection is going well. The Vet is finished with me temporarily and the nurse now takes charge of me. She orders me to step onto a set of surgery scales to be weighed. Nervously, I look to see if I have gained weight. I'm sure Master would be most displeased with me if I had. Master carefully controls my diet and limits my food and liquid intakes to ensure that I retain my trim figure. I am gratified to see that I haven't gained any weight since my last examination. I weighed 173 lbs. then and that is my current weight. Next the nurse takes my body measurements and places special emphasis on my waistline. Again I am fortunate; my waist measurement is the same 34 inches it was at my last inspection. While I am being measured and weighed, Master and the Vet talk about me. The Vet asks Master very general questions about my health and fitness. Master outlines to the Vet that during his absence working out of state, I had become slack in my attitudes and that he is now working very hard to bring me back "into line". The Vet suggests to Master that he needs to take a firm hand with me just as he does with his two slaves. I shudder at his reference to a "firm hand". I know the Vet owns two, white slaves and that he is a very stern Master. He favours the whip over the cane and the strap and I know his slaves are regularly whipped. Now comes the part of my examination that I truly hate - the examination of my cock and balls and a digital inspection of my ass. Firstly, the Vet minutely examines each of my balls for any abnormalities by rolling them between his fingers and gently squeezing them. I know that this last test is common for men who present themselves to a doctor for a routine examination. But as free men they have this choice. However, I'm not a free man. I am a slave and I didn't come here of my own volition. My Master brought me here and I had no choice in the matter. Once more The Vet takes hold of my balls and orders me to cough. I do so and he orders me to cough again. He repeats his order several times and I respond by coughing louder and harder. Satisfied that all is well and I haven't any hernias, he instructs me to lean over the examination table with my elbows resting on its top. Then, I am ordered into a slightly squatting position and I'm aware that my ass is stretched open for his gloved finger. But before that, the Vet examines my anus and perineum for haemorrhoids or rashes. Establishing that all is well, I feel the cold stickiness as a lubricant is smeared around my anus. Experience over the years tells me that I should just relax to make entry into my rectum easier. But defensively, my sphincter closes and tightens itself as protection against The Vet's invading finger. The lubricant helps and the finger slips easily through my asshole and into my rectum where it palpates my insides. As always there is that pleasurable feeling as my prostate is found, examined and stimulated. My examination now reaches its climax as the Vet orders me up onto the examination table and to assume the `all fours' position. He asks the nurse to take my temperature and to `milk' me. I wait with my head bowed as the nurse uses a rectal thermometer to take my temperature. I feel its intrusion as the nurse allows time for my temperature to register and when she withdraws it, I experience the emptiness that one always feels after his ass has been penetrated and the intruding object has been withdrawn. The nurse places a surgical dish beneath my cock and begins to `milk' me. It takes five minutes of masturbation before I ejaculate into the dish. During those five minutes, I feel the utter humiliation of my condition. This is just one more example of my lowly status and it re-enforces the superiority of the Black Race over whites. This Black Mistress `milks' me with no regard to my manhood. Indeed, she wouldn't even consider that I am a man. And who can blame her. In her eyes how can a white slave ever be considered as a man? Dispassionately, she treats me as the animal that I am. The nurse hands the dish holding my semen to the Vet for assessment. Obviously, it pleases him and he comments favourably to Master about its quantity and quality. Then he hands the dish to Master to inspect his slave's cum. All that remains now is for the nurse to take some blood and urine samples. After drawing several vials of blood, the nurse hands me a container and orders me to "pee". Even here, I'm not afforded any privacy or allowed any dignity. I must piss in front of my Black Superiors. One would think I should be used to this. At home when I use the bathroom - and I must ask Master's permission to do so - I am forbidden to ever close the door. So my bodily functions are done in the knowledge that nothing I do is ever hidden from Master's sight. Even when I am working outdoors, I can't waste time by retiring to a bathroom. I just piss as I work. As the nurse takes my urine sample from me, she compliments Master and tells him that it's a pleasure to work on such an obedient, well-trained and docile slave. My heart is full of gratitude to her for her comments. By my good behaviour, I have brought credit and honor to my Master. I am proud that Master's training of me reflects well on him. A slave can hope for no greater compliment than to hear his Master praised for his slave's good behaviour. I am overwhelmed. My annual check-up is finished and the Vet tells Master that I am in fine shape and good health. He tells Master that he will be in touch when he receives the results of my blood tests. He accompanies Master out to the reception desk and they stand and talk for a few more minutes. I assume the display position and wait on my Master. As I wait, I'm acutely aware that I am under the scrutiny of the young Black Mistress who works as the Vet's receptionist. I lower my eyes respectfully to the floor under her steady gaze. The Vet takes his leave of Master and as I follow Master into the closet, I hear him call for the young Master and his pale, complexioned slave. Master orders me to dress quickly and we leave the clinic for the drive back to Master's home. In the car, Master tells me of his plans for projects around his home and grounds that I'm to work on over summer. From what Master tells me, my summer promises to be very busy. Master also tells he is pleased with the results of my examination. He tells me his is pleased that I have not gained weight and that my waistline is still a trim thirty-four inches. He is also pleased with my copious ejaculation. He tells me how pleasing it is to see that my cum isn't thin and watery but thick and sweet-smelling. I revel in my Master's praise of me! Then he tells me how proud he is of his nephew, Sir Jon and of his new found acceptance of Black Rule. He tells me that he has high hopes for Sir Jon now that he is at College. I listen intently to all that Master has to say about his much loved nephew. I think back to Sir Jon's eighteenth birthday when he was told of my true status as a white slave to his uncle. Since then I too have watched with pride as Sir Jon accepts his birth right as a member of the superior Black Race. He is in every sense a Black Superior and, in recent times, I have had reason to fear him. Recently, his father, Sir Lachlan acquired his own white slave who he has named Jem. And I am sure that Sir Jon's long summer break from College will allow him to hone his Master's skills on Jem. To be continued ..................

"THE AFTERMATH" (Or What Follows Next) Chapter 14: "Masters and Slaves" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult adults over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) An archive of my stories can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories Chapter 14: "Masters and Slaves" Part 1: Andy goes to the Sale I've always enjoyed going to slave auctions and I make it a practice to attend as many sales as possible. I attend for two reasons - business and pleasure. Over the years, I have been to the slave market many times to either buy or sell. Usually, on those occasions, I would take Toby with me in his capacity as both my farm manager and my slave. His knowledge and expertise at assessing another slave's capacity for hard work was invaluable. As I watched him go about examining any slaves I was interested in buying, I wondered at his complete indifference to them. It seemed to me that, as a slave himself, he should have some compassion for their plight but none was apparent. I have decided to sell Toby and today it is he who stands naked and in chains on the display podium; I wonder does he now have an appreciation of what those slaves felt as he minutely examined them on my behalf. I arrived at the market early so that I could register my interest as a buyer. I need to buy a replacement for Toby and there are two possibilities that attract my attention. There are two newly arrived slaves - former soldiers captured in the border skirmishes to the north - who interest me. Either would serve admirably as Toby's replacement in my bed. Of course, I can only afford to buy one of them; my finances are severely stretched and will remain so until the harvests are in and sold. Still, with the sale of my remaining three slaves - the first of these has already been sold - I have been able to purchase my statue of the wrestlers and I estimate there's still enough left to buy a new slave. My strategy is to bid for both of them; that way, should I miss out on the first one, then I will have a second bite of the cherry so to speak. The dealer, Dave Matheson attends to me personally and gives me my buyer's pass which authorises me to enter the auction yard and bid on my intended purchase and also to watch as my three slaves are sold off. I enquire about my three slaves and he is quick to re-assure me that all three have engendered considerable interest among prospective buyers and he expects that the bidding for them will be spirited. He tells me, most probably the two young blonds will end up being sold to two elderly, spinster sisters and will double up as heavy duty work slaves in their gardens and to pull their rickshaws. It would appear that Toby, on the other hand, is destined for stud duties with a leading breeder. He tells me all three of my slaves present well and are presently settling down in the display pens before being placed on the viewing platform. He assures me they are calm and accepting of their fates but advises me against having any contact with them. If possible, I should avoid being in their presence to prevent any unseemly disruptions in their behaviour. However, he explains, should this happen, his overseers will quickly restore order - they are well practiced in subduing a noisy or unruly slave. I decide, in the interests of harmony, to avoid contact with my three slaves and to ignore any pleas from them. Armed with my buyer's pass, I'm now free to wander around the display area and join in the activities while the slaves on offer today are placed on their viewing platforms. Who knows, I might even run into some of my arty friends who also like to frequent these sales and to evaluate the displayed livestock. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I truly love the carnival-like atmosphere of the slave-market. There is an air of excitement and expectancy associated with an auction; we who have slaves to sell - and today I have three listed - are hoping that we get a good price for our property. And of course, those who are buying have the pleasure of examining the displayed livestock on offer but then they face the dilemma of which slave or slaves to bid for. I take great delight in the sights, sounds and smells of the market; there is the ever-pleasing sight of the slaves as they are put through their paces by the eager buyers, the hoarse shouts of the spruikers drawing the crowds' attention to their wares and the delicious smells emanating from the various `fast-food' stalls set up to cater for the hungry. And then, there is the noise generated by the animated conversations of people clustered in groups discussing or arguing the merits of the displayed slaves. It all makes for a very lively scene. I'm easily caught up in the general excitement of these sales and I watch intently as the prospective buyers gather around the displayed livestock; it's always interesting to look on as the slave-handlers force the slaves to pose in positions that best display their bodies. And of course, I can always get a laugh out the ribald humour of the watching onlookers as they joke at the expense of some hapless slave. And I do enjoy watching the reaction of the slaves as they are teased unmercifully by the ever-present groups of laughing, jeering, teenaged boys. When I grow tired of watching the slaves, I visit the numerous ancillary stalls which are so much a part of these affairs and which add immeasurably to the fairground atmosphere of the auction. The majority of these stalls - set up on the periphery of the display area - sell all the accoutrements of slavery- the collars, restraints and instruments of punishment- that are so necessary for the good management of slaves. I join a group of onlookers as they listen to a stall-holder extolling the advantages of one of the newer, faster, electric branding irons. At heart I'm a traditionalist, and I much prefer to use the old fashioned, type of branding iron; one heated in the coals of my blacksmith's forge and which I still occasionally use at the farm. To my mind the use of such an iron is more visually dramatic and has a greater impact on the slave being branded. Watching and waiting as the iron heats up in the coals impresses itself on the slave so much more than the impersonal use of the clinical, electric brand. Still, I realise that there are owners who would see this new iron as progress and favour its use over the older style branding- iron. However, I'm a committed environmentalist and believe the use of electric power to heat these new irons is both unwarranted and unnecessary. Given the parlous state of our energy reserves, this use of electricity is completely unjustified and borders on the criminal; besides the almost inexhaustible supply of slave labour makes the use of our scarce, natural resources completely unnecessary. I'm of the firm view that it is far better to use slaves to `power' the machines of commerce and industry and to provide the `locomotion' for transportation rather than use these fast-dwindling, natural resources. Suddenly, I'm attracted to the sight of two, young, naked slaves standing one on either side of the entrance to a booth. Heavily decorated with the adornments of slavery; these two `display boards' stand with their heads bowed in humiliation as buyers examine the stall-holder's wares attached to their bodies. I'm fascinated and spend time examining them. I'm intrigued by the many trinkets available to an owner for the enhancement of his slaves. Personally, I don't like to see a slave over-adorned. My tastes are more ascetic and my slaves wear only neck collars, genital rings and, of course, their brands. I prefer to keep their bodies simple but, nevertheless, I admire the stall-holder's initiative in this innovative display of his wares and the consideration shown to his customers in having them mounted on his two slaves. As I roam around the display area, I stop to watch as the naked slaves stand helplessly in their shackles and meekly submit to the humiliation and degradation of their inspections. There is that special buzz of conversation as the slaves have their musculatures poked and prodded, their balls hefted and weighed and their cocks stroked to full erections. And it's always amusing to look on as a slave is made to bend over and display the most private part of his body to an interested client. But, what I wonder, can be more hilarious than the horrified look on that slave's face when he suddenly realises what uses his body will be put to by his new master? Now, my attention is drawn to a group of noisy spectators clustered around one of the slaves. I saunter over to investigate and discover that the slave is Lot 1. I remember the hapless slave from yesterday's visit to the slave pens. He is a convicted criminal condemned to lifetime enslavement and now he stands on his numbered platform weeping and vainly pleading with his tormentors to be left alone. Like all the other slaves, he'd been prepared for his display. His thin, greying hair has been cropped and it seems to me that his body hair has also been tidied up; it appears to be shorter than I remember from yesterday. He is marked with a large, black number one on both the left side of his chest and on the right flank of his sagging ass - the slave-dealer has mockingly given him pride of place in the selling order. His left flank is marked by the angry red letter S of his very recent branding. Like the other slaves, his naked body has been liberally coated with display oil; unlike them it does nothing to enhance his overall appearance. The oil gives the younger, fitter slaves the appearance of rude, good health and shows off the perfection of their strong, muscular physiques. Lot 1, however, appears to me to be even more grotesque than I remember. If anything, his coating of oil draws attention to his physical deficiencies and turns him into a figure of ridicule. The soft pectorals of his sunken chest appear to hang looser and his rotund belly, highlighted by the morning sun, appears bigger and flabbier. I am unimpressed by his less than impressive genitals which seem to have shrunk in size and I think to myself that he is suffering from stage-fright. Even as I listen, his cock and balls are the subject of much crude comment and laughter from the onlookers who watch as a group of youths have their fun with him. These youths are a regular feature of sale days and delight in ridiculing and tormenting the unhappy slaves on display. However, their presence is appreciated by both buyers and onlookers and they always have a following of admirers who are looking for laughs at the expense of the slaves. Lot 1 is the perfect subject for their ribald humour - the perfect butt for their lewd jokes. Playing to their audience, one of youths holds Lot 1's thin arms aloft and, in imitation of an auctioneer, extols his physical attributes whilst another laughingly attempts to tease the crying slave's unresponsive cock into an erection. Their efforts are rewarded with loud, raucous laughter. Futilely, the new slave struggles to free himself from the youths' clutches and his plaintive pleas are drowned out by the comments and laughter of the amused spectators. Then, turning the slave with his back to the audience, one of the youths cups the sagging buttocks in his hands as the other sarcastically invites the audience to appreciate the new slave`s "physical appeal." I'm highly amused by the humorous spectacle and add my laughter to that of the crowd. Then, I recall that yesterday, at my first sighting of Lot 1, I had felt sorry for him. His future is grim; as he is neither young nor robust he has limited appeal to a buyer. Unsuited to either field-work or a master's bed, he'll most likely end up working out the few, remaining years of his life at some menial task - perhaps chained fulltime to an assembly line in a sweatshop. Yesterday, I had pity for him; today however, all traces of my sympathy for the snivelling slave are gone. It is time for me to move on and I casually stroll down the long row of today's offering - each naked slave is standing at display on his individual and lot-numbered viewing platform. Taking care to avoid Lots 25 and 26 - my three slaves - I am seeking out the two slaves who interest me, Grigor and Axel. I pause to watch as a slave is forced to his knees to allow a buyer to examine his teeth whilst another is bent double and digitally explored. Eavesdropping, I listen in as these buyers discuss such things as `soundness' `and tightness'. The humiliation and shame felt by these slaves is obvious for all of the onlookers to see. Then, above all the noisy `hub-bub', I hear the angry, impatient shouts of the overseers as they loudly admonish an un-cooperative slave verbally and with their canes. Yes for me, a sale-day certainly does have all the colour, noise and excitement of the fair-ground. Suddenly, I'm greeted by a friend - well more of an acquaintance really - Obadiah Clements. Obadiah, a leading art critic and I move in the same arty circles where he is revered as the doyen of all things cultural. I can't say I really like him - in fact just the opposite; he is pompous, self-opinionated and largely intolerant of anyone else's point of view. And I particularly dislike the affectation of his speech and the mincing tone of his voice. Balding, overweight and perpetually perspiring he has the appearance of a lecher and under normal circumstances I wouldn't cultivate his friendship. Still many of my friends fawn over him and hang onto his every word - to them he is the arbiter of `good taste' - and it's impossible for me to ignore him. And the fact that he approached me first this morning shows that he accepts me as a member of the city's art community. I am flattered by his recognition of me. "Good morning, Andrew and what is it that brings you to the market on this fine morning?" He addresses me formally and uses my full given name - he has often expressed his annoyance at other people's use of the diminutive. I wonder, with amusement, how he'd re-act to being call Obi. Not favourably I would imagine. Still the thought amuses me and I suppress a silent chuckle at his expense. "Good morning, Obadiah." I reply. "I'm here because I have three slaves in today's sale and I'm also looking to buy a replacement slave for one of them. What about you?" "Oh! I'm here to fill in a few hours. I often drop in to see what's on offer. You never know, there might just be a comely, young slave that catches my eye." To be honest, I would feel sorry for any slave who `catches his eye'. He has a reputation among my friends as a hard master. "Well Obadiah, from what I've seen so far there are quite a few possibilities that might just catch you eye. Have you inspected any?" "No, not as yet, Andrew. So far, I've just strolled along the line, but I must say I've seen one or two who DO attract my interest. What about you, Andrew? Have you found any that appeal to you?" "Yes, there are two who interest me. They're two former soldiers who are new to slavery. The prospect of buying an untamed slave and breaking him has great appeal for me." "Indeed, I agree wholeheartedly. Breaking in a new slave is always a delightful diversion. But tell me, Andrew, are you buying him for business or pleasure?" "Purely for my pleasure, Obadiah. Purely for my pleasure!" "It's the same with me. I'm looking to replace my body slave. I've had him for some time now and I'm a bit jaded with him. A new slave would certainly give me a lift. As they say a change is as good as a holiday." "Have you used your body slave for long?" "For far too long, I think. I like to change over my personal slaves regularly. In fact, I change them almost as often as I change the sheets on my bed." Then he adds. "I'm only joking, Andrew - about the sheets anyway." "What will you do with your body slave when he's replaced with a new one? Will you sell him?" "Oh no, Andrew, He's a strong, powerful brute. No, I'll keep him and use him on my litter. That`s what happens to all my body slaves." Then he adds with a girlish giggle. "They all go from my bed to my litter" I recall that Obadiah uses a litter carried on the shoulders of eight, powerfully built slaves. This use of a litter is considered by some to be old-fashioned, ostentatious and indicative of the decadence of the nouveau riche - but in his case it is completely justified. Obadiah is monstrously overweight and it always seems to me that any physical exertion on his part is an ordeal for him. Even now, with just walking around the sale-yard, he is breathing heavily and perspiring freely. Suddenly, our conversation is interrupted by angry shouting and the sound of canes raining down on a slave's body; it would appear that a slave isn't co-operating with a buyer and he is being beaten into submission. I watch the slave's vain attempts to protect his body from the blows but with each loud thwack of the cane his howls grow louder and his resistance weakens. Soon, he is on his knees with his face pressed to the platform. It is then that I recognise him as one of the two slaves who interest me - Lot 16. "Oh dear me, Andrew! It would appear that one of the slaves is being naughty and is being punished. Most probably, he's a new slave making his final, futile protest. It's pointless really. It always perplexes me why they do that. One would think when they are actually chained to the display-stand; they should know any further resistance is useless." "You would think so, Obadiah. But he's subdued now." I don't bother to tell Obadiah that the slave is one of the two that interests me. After all, I don't want him to show any interest in the slave. With the slave now settled down, Obadiah loses interest and returns to our conversation. "But tell me Andrew. Is it true what I hear; that you have purchased an Antonio Varo bronze? The whole town is talking about you're new acquisition. It must have cost you a small fortune - Varo doesn't come cheaply, does he? Tell me about it?" "Yes Obadiah, it's true." I tell him boastfully. I'm delighted and proud to hear that people are aware of my purchase of the statue and are talking about it. "It's a bronze statue of two wrestlers and I bought it to place in my remodelled courtyard. It's to be installed next week and I'm planning a soiree to present it to my closest friends. I do hope you can come along and perhaps you'll do me the honour of unveiling it?" "I'd be delighted to do so, Andrew. Anything that promotes the arts has my fullest support. And you're to be congratulated on your acquisition of a work from such a fine artist." "Thank you, Obadiah and I look forward to seeing you at my introduction party." "Think nothing of it, my boy. The pleasure is all mine. Now, what are the lot numbers of your three slaves? I might just stroll along and have a look at them. You never know, one of them might just appeal to me." "They are half way along the line at lots 25 and 26. I won't offer to come with you, Obadiah. The dealer has advised me to stay away from them in case the sight of me unsettles them." "Why of course, Andrew. I do understand. It's better that they don't see their old master. As you say it could be distressing for them. But I`ll give them your love, shall I?" Then, as he sees the look of concern on my face, he laughs and re-assures me. "I'm only joking Andrew, only joking. Of course, I won't mention you to them. But should one of them end up in my bed, that's a different matter. Then, I'll be sure to remind him of his former master." Taking my leave of Obadiah, I stop to look back along the long line of displayed slaves and in the distance at the halfway mark, I spot my three slaves - I see that Toby is being appraised by a young man watched by two older men and a youth. As I watch, I think to myself that there is no more pleasing or erotic sight than seeing a long line of young, muscular slaves, oiled and in chains, standing prominently at display prior to being sold. I move on to Lots 16 and 17, Grigor and Axel; both slaves are shackled in place and available for my inspection. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Part 2: Grigor My life has assumed a surreal quality. My brain still can't process all that has happened to me. In the short span of just two weeks- or is it three, I don't really know - my life has spun out of control. I've gone from being a proud soldier to a naked slave about to be sold. I was captured by my country's enemies, enslaved, branded and sold on to slavers who brought me south to this slave market where, this morning I am displayed like a beast-of-burden and scheduled to be auctioned off to the highest bidder this afternoon. By today's end, I'll be owned property and I'll have a master. My pride and every fibre of my being rebels at the very idea of this. As I stand on the display podium, I look out over the thronging crowds and I rail against the injustice of my situation. I think about the fickleness of life that sees one man as a slave and another free. Who gets to decide this? What god or gods manipulated my fate with such capriciousness? Why have I become a slave while those walking around before me remain free? I've never given these matters any thought before - I've was never a deep thinker - but now, as I think of my present situation, they assume a new relevance for me. We have slaves in my country; in fact my family own many slaves who labour on our farms and work in our quarries. I don't know how many slaves my father owns - far too many to count. Their existence wasn't something that greatly concerned me; they were just `there'. Slaves were such an integral part of my former life and yet I disregarded them. They existed in my sight but remained invisible in my consciousness; I saw them but never acknowledged them. They lived on the fringes of my life and I was only aware of them when I needed to use them. Unlike the men of this country, I didn't use our male slaves for sex. I never felt the need for them and the mores of my country, unlike this accursed place, frown on the open and public sexual use of male slaves by free men. Anyway, we always had a number of attractive female slaves serving in our household and my indulgent father encouraged me to use them. My mother and sisters no doubt were aware of this, but tactfully turned a blind eye to my amorous activities. Until now, I'd thought of myself as proudly heterosexual; yet since my encounter with another slave in the showers earlier this morning, I now have nagging doubts about my sexuality. I'd felt disgust when he washed my body and cringed as his hands roamed over my nakedness. I was forced to wash him - driven to do so by the overseer's cane - and I found it to be strangely pleasurable and erotic. If I'm honest with myself, I did enjoy the feel of his firm, muscular body and despite my best efforts, my cock was aroused. I'd felt something akin to this when, as a soldier, I was in close physical contact with my fellow soldiers. This was especially so with my best friend Axel, who now stands alongside me as a slave. Am I alone in having these feelings? Did all the men in my unit feel this closeness as we wrestled, semi-naked, in simulated hand to hand combat? But of course, none of us would ever admit to these feelings. We'd have seen them as a challenge to our ingrained, heterosexual concepts of manhood. Now I begin to wonder? At first, I felt sickened when I was forced to wash the other slave`s ass. Until then, I'd never touched another man's body so intimately. But as my soapy hands moved over the hard curves of his rump, I experienced little shivers of something - I don't know what - move through my body. I found myself looking at the cleft between his buttocks and thinking about what was hidden in its depths. I tried to turn my mind away from such depraved thoughts but failed. I sensed the other slave's willing expectancy as he patiently waited for me to continue; eventually curiosity - and the fear of the cane - overcame my reluctance. As my finger moved into his ass-crack and began its probing search, he started to moan softly and I could feel his slight shivering. I was surprised and unexpectedly delighted at the effect I was obviously having on him. Emboldened, my finger now sought out his anus and he showed his approval by thrusting his ass back in an invitation for me to continue my exploration and to enter into him. How do I describe the incredible satiny feel of his soft, warm, pulsating sphincter? I am aware of the sensitivity of this area of my own body; after all it had been excited many times in my sexual encounters with my father's female slaves. But this touching of another man's anus for the first time was very different and feeling his involuntary re-action to my touch excited me. It was new territory for me and I found it exhilarating. I heard my laboured breathing and felt my cock throbbing in its own hardness. I continued to explore the slave's body and my own unfamiliar emotions. The slave was obviously enjoying what I was doing to him and as I looked at him I was struck by his beauty. I guessed he was slightly older than me but unlike me his body was smooth and free of hair. This only highlighted the magnificence of his strong, muscular body and as I gazed into his handsome face, I could see a look of sadness, of shattered trust in his eyes. Inexplicably, this aroused sympathy in me. This sympathy surprised me for it was the first time I had ever realised that a slave could feel emotion. Obviously, the slave was comfortable in his sexuality. This didn't altogether surprise me. Even before my own enslavement, I was aware that here, in this country, masters could openly use their male slaves for sex without fear of any recriminations. This slave, no doubt, had served his master well in that capacity. And I shuddered as I anticipated that this, most probably, is the fate that awaits me after today. I am confused by my conflicting new emotions. Until now, I'd only ever considered sex in the heterosexual context; sex between men was alien to my nature. It is something I'm aware of but have, until now, never personally considered as an option. Before my capture, the suggestion that I could be attracted to another man would have filled me with disgust and any homosexual advances would have been firmly rebuffed. Now I`m confused; my sexual attraction to the slave has left me bewildered. It has awakened within feelings and emotions I've been unaware of until today. I ask myself - are these feelings an indication of my true self? As I said, I'm not a philosopher. But I ask myself - do I have two natures; one heterosexual and the other homosexual? And if so, is one any more valid than the other? Or is my heterosexuality something I have learned as the result of `conditioning' by the culture and mores of the community that nurtured me? I wonder had I `acquired' it over my formative years and the true nature of my sexuality lay suppressed and hidden from me. My encounter with this slave confuses me but possibly it has shown me who I really am? I only know that I am exhilarated by my brief encounter with this slave whose name I don't know. He's awakened new emotions within me and has pointed to unknown but exciting horizons in my life. It's as if I have been reborn; but I'm also frightened by this and what the future holds for me as a slave. Slavery, by its very nature, reduces its victims to the status of objects to be owned, used and even abused by their masters. I am now such an object and I worry about who'll buy me and what uses or abuses I'll be put to. I know that there is every chance that I'll attract the attention of a master who'll want to use me sexually. I am after all, young and fit - I take pride in the appearance and strength of my muscular, soldier's body - and I have been told by others that I'm good-looking. Therefore, there is every chance I'll be used to satisfy my new owner's lust. I'm repulsed by the thought of this. It is one thing to indulge in mutually agreed sex - and how I'd love to explore my newfound sexuality with my shower partner - but it is another matter to be ordered to do so by a master knowing that I can't refuse. Even as I consider this, I see two men talking. One I recognise as the arrogant, young man who had inspected me in the pens yesterday and who had humbled me by the threat of punishment to Axel. How I hated his ruthlessness, but rather than see Axel tormented, I'd bent to his will. The other is an older man who is morbidly obese and instinctively I know he would abuse his slaves. The realisation that either of these two men could be my master within a few short hours is a frightening prospect. These thoughts are interrupted by a buyer who wishes to examine me. He orders me to flex but I stand defiant in my soldier's pride and refuse to obey. The sudden flash of anger in his eyes fills me with satisfaction. However, my triumph is short-lived; I don't see him beckoning to an overseer. "ON YOUR KNEES, SLAVE! NOW!" I'm unprepared for the overseer's shouted command or for his cane as it slashes across my shoulders. I yelp with the unexpected pain and I'm unaware that this overseer has been joined by another until I feel the bite of a second cane on my ass. As they continue to beat me, I struggle to protect myself but there's no avoiding the overseers' anger. They continue to order me to my knees and futilely, I continue to resist. Through the red haze of my pain, I'm aware that my howls of anguish have attracted an audience of onlookers who watch my chastisement with interest - apparently there are always those who enjoy watching as a recalcitrant slave is beaten into submission. As the blows fall upon my unprotected body, I hear the repeated shouts to. "DROP TO YOUR KNEES! NOW!" Slowly, my defiance crumbles and it is replaced by my compliance with the overseers' demands. I fall to my knees and obey the command to. "PUT YOUR FACE TO THE PLATFORM!" As I kneel with my face to the ground and with my naked ass, bearing the red stripes of my chastisement, elevated for all to gaze upon, I'm totally humiliated. Trembling, I listen as the overseer apologises on my behalf. "I'm very sorry sir, for the slave' disobedience. However, I think you'll find him more co-operative now." "Think nothing of it. The slave's wilfulness wasn't your fault overseer. However, thank you for your assistance." "YOU, BEHAVE YOURSELF - OR I"LL BE BACK!" I'm warned by the overseer who gives my buttocks one final, dismissive cut of the cane as he walks away. Subdued and humiliated, I wait for the buyer's instruction. "On your feet." Hastily, I scramble to my feet in obedience to his command and stand submissively before him. As I lower my eyes, I notice that my audience has drifted away except for a handful that is curious to see if I'll conform. "That was very stupid of you, slave." The buyer admonishes me "What did you hope to achieve by your show of defiance?" I'm confused by his question and not knowing how I should answer, I remain silent. He interprets this as surliness on my part and shouts. "ANSWER ME!" "I'm sorry, Master." I blurt out my confused apology. "I don't know, Master." To my shame, I hear myself use the word, Master - twice. My use of it has been involuntary; it has been done without any conscious thought or decision on my part. Of course, I don't realise that my use of this honorific, `Master' marks another step along the road into my slavery. Its use implies my acceptance of the concept of free men and captives - of masters and slaves. I am deeply shocked at how easily I have capitulated. What does my friend Axel think of my submission? Does he now hold me in contempt for my weakness in bowing down to our captors? Tears of shame sting my eyes. "Well, let's hope you have learned your first lesson; that a slave does as he's told or suffers the consequences. I take it that you are new to slavery - am I correct?" "Yes Master." How easily it now rolls off my tongue. "And have you learned your lesson, slave?" "Yes Master." I answer truthfully. "Good! Then let's begin again. STAND UP STRAIGHT AND FLEX!" Fearful of further punishment, I now comply with all the man's demands. I stand quietly as he inspects me. This is to be the first of many such inspections throughout the morning as I'm appraised by other potential buyers. Finally, the man is finished with me and he turns his attention to Axel who is ordered to "flex". No doubt intimidated by my beating, Axel hastens to obey. Watching as my best friend is appraised by the buyer, I think bitterly, how easy it has been for us to accept our new servile status. For the two of us, the journey from being proud, freemen to becoming docile slaves has been a short one. Now, I stand with my head bowed in humiliation and defeat waiting for the next buyer who wishes to appraise me. I know that I have lost my freedom and that I'm now a slave. I am acutely aware that I now inhabit a cruel world made up of Masters and slaves. Then, I'm aware that someone is standing before me. I feel a hand placed under my chin and my head is lifted until I look into the face of the man who had inspected me so closely in the pens yesterday. Our eyes meet for several seconds before I lower mine in to the ground in a gesture of deference and defeat. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Part 3: Andy confronts Grigor There is something about this slave that arouses me; something that gets my juices flowing. Even now, as I stand in front of him and allow my eyes to roam over his body, I am aware of my impending erection. He is a truly magnificent specimen; a worthy candidate for slavery. Reaching out, I slowly lift his chin until our eyes make contact. Through his tears, I can see the inner turmoil and fear reflected in his eyes. Then, as he recognises me, he lowers his gaze to the ground in a gesture of defeat. I'm pleased - he won't be too hard to break. Gone are the soldier's bravado and defiance from our previous encounter in Dave Matheson's slave pens. It had really been a stroke of genius on my part to use the threat of punishment on his fellow slave to bend him to my will. And of course, there had been his very recent encounter with the overseers' canes. I tell him to turn around so that I can examine their handiwork. I look at the angry red welts on his shoulders, back and ass and as I trace my finger over them, his wincing tells me they are extremely painful. However, he has only himself to blame for this and I hope that he has learned a valuable lesson in what is expected of a slave. Still, I hope there is some vestige of resentment left for me to beat out of him. I look forward to further bending him to my will. What was Obadiah's description of breaking in a slave? That it provides a `delightful diversion'. I look forward to my own delightful diversion with this slave. I shall enjoy taming him. I don't really need an in-depth examination of him this morning; that had taken place yesterday afternoon. Anyway, that is a pleasure I want to savour when he is truly mine. Tonight, with any luck, I will enjoy exploring his every `nook and cranny'. Still his muscular body is inviting and I can't resist running my hands over him while he stands quietly allowing me to do so. I'm surprised at how docile he has become, although I do note his deep crimson blush of embarrassment and shame as I take his cock in my hand. I remain fascinated by the feel of his prepuce and I slowly ease it back along the thick shaft to reveal the rosy tip of his glans. This foreskin is a novelty in a slave and I shall enjoy playing with it. Like his body hair, I will allow him to keep it for an indefinite period or until I grow tired of it; but that decision will be mine to make and not his. I notice his fellow slave apprehensively watching me as I arouse his friend. I will need to appraise him also in case I miss out on my first choice and he becomes my `second bite of the cherry'. As I stroke my first choice to a full erection, I'm amused by his tearful begging. "Master, please Master? Don't, please Master?" Of course, I choose to ignore him. But, I'm gratified - the slave still retains something of his old self for me to seek out and bend to my will. Yes indeed, this slave will make a superb replacement for my soon-to-be former slave, Toby. To be continued ........................ You can access the Jean-Christophe stories by joining the archive group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

"THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT" "A Short Seasonal Story" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years. Note: This is an interracial story! If the notion of blacks dominating whites isn't to your taste then you shouldn't continue to read beyond this point. Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) To see all my stories go to http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without my permission. Please respect the integrity of this story and don't rewrite" I love Christmas time. It truly is the season of peace and goodwill to all men. There is something about it that engenders the best in me; temporarily it fills me with good cheer and I see only the good in people. Briefly I overlook their shortcomings and the entire myriad of other things about them that annoy me for the other three hundred and sixty-four days of the year. I become generous of spirit and I lavish presents on my family and friends - perhaps to excess - and this year is to be no exception. Together with my parents, I have been invited to spend Christmas Day with my older brother, Talbot who lives with his son Max attended to by his two white slaves. Max has recently celebrated his eighteenth birthday and I am at a loss as to what is a suitable Christmas gift for him. My brother isn't a problem and I have already purchased his present. But Max presents me with a quandary - what do I give an eighteen year old? I live alone - well, strictly speaking that's not quite right; I do have my own slave Timmy - but he doesn't really count as a person so yes- I suppose I do live alone. Timmy is my long term slave who I have owned for the past ten years and he is as much a part of my home as my 3D LED flat screen television or my computer. I can't contemplate life without Timmy - he is always there at my beck and call and he lives to serve me. Would that all slaves are as loyal, devoted and loving to their Masters as Timmy is to me. Timmy is white - but then all slaves are. After all, we do live in the new era of Black Supremacy where the Superior Black man reigns supreme and the inferior white man serves him as a slave. Of course it wasn't always this way. Centuries ago we were the slaves and the white man ruled over us with fists of iron. But what goes around comes around and the white race now reaps what it had sown all those years ago. It has taken many, many long years since our emancipation from slavery to "turn the tables" on the white man but through the strength of our overwhelming convictions, an unshakeable belief in our Black Supremacy and the sheer weight of time, we have triumphed. The white man now lives in subjugation to the Black man and we now rule him with our own rods of iron. History tells us of the white race's arrogance and its erroneous belief that Black people were biblically pre-ordained to serve as drawers of water and hewers of wood. Now it is the white man who draws the water and chops our wood. He carries on his shoulders the heavy burden of Black expectations and exists only to serve our needs. I remain unmarried - Timmy is well equipped to satisfy all my sexual needs - and I have no family of my own. Thus I have no idea of the wants of a teenage boy or what to buy as a present for Max. I had thought about this for some time and being left without an answer, I was almost at the point of despair when - last night at dinner- I saw the answer standing before me. Timmy stood at the side of my dining table serving me and in a flash of genius I saw the perfect gift for Max. I will buy him his very own slave. After all, as a young Black man of eighteen it is surely time for him to have his own white, slave boy. I was quickly caught up in the excitement of my decision and I wondered - how does one go about choosing and buying a slave boy these days. It has been ten years since I bought Timmy and I am "out of touch". Vaguely I'm aware that there are weekly municipal slave auctions held every Saturday but I've never been to any of these. Over the years I have overheard work colleagues speak of attending these auctions and from what I recall the slaves to be auctioned are publicly displayed between the hours of 9.00 AM and noon every Saturday and then they mount the auction block between the hours of 2.00 PM and 5.00 PM. Today is Wednesday and I wonder - should I attend next Saturday's municipal auction? It is only a little over two weeks to Christmas and time isn't on my side. I really do need to move quickly or risk missing out on a suitable slave for Max. Then I wonder about the "quality" of the slaves on offer from the municipality. It occurs to be that they could be "low grade" stock- veritable beasts-of burden - suitable only for heavy duty work and quite unsuitable as house slaves. After all I want only the best for my nephew. The slave I require needs to be docile and possess a pleasant disposition to serve his young master. And he needs to be pleasing to the eye - this is most important. I certainly won't buy any "old rubbish" for my nephew. But where do I find such slaves. Surely there must be "upmarket" slave boutiques that offer a superior quality slave to the discerning buyer. Perhaps a quick search of the internet will help. For the next hour or so I sit with my laptop on my knees as Timmy continues to serve me coffee. As is my requirement, Timmy stands in the modified display position with his feet apart and his hands clasped behind his back. His gaze is firmly focused on me and my needs. After many long periods of painful training, he knows instinctively what I require and when I require it. I have no need to instruct him. Indeed if I did have to prompt him, he'd pay a high price for his dereliction of duty. I would order him into an "all fours" position upon the coffee table standing before me and I'd cane his lazy, white ass until it glowed bright scarlet-red and to such a degree that he'd find it painful to sit for at least the next week. Not that that this would matter too much. Timmy is forbidden to sit -ever - except on the floor at my feet when I require him to do so. But Timmy does distract me and from time to time I pause and I look up from the computer screen to gaze admiringly at him. Timmy pleases me and I have a real pride of ownership of him. I allow my eyes to roam from the top of his closely cropped head down over the smoothness of his chest and belly to his hairless crotch. This smoothness is a requirement of mine and I won't allow him to display body hair. I have always been repulsed by hair on a white man's body and so Timmy must keep himself smooth shaven and use a depilatory crme. Once a fortnight I take him to a slave barber to have his hair closely cropped to within an inch of his scalp. He has jet black hair which, if left to grow, is naturally curly and contrasts beautifully with his ivory white skin, the soft grey of his eyes and his full red lips. My eyes stop and linger on Timmy's genitalia. Nature has been kind to my slave and bestowed upon him a prodigious cock and a generous scrotum within which reside his two plump orbs. As is the case with all slaves, Timmy is circumcised and the large, mushroom shaped cockhead and its piss slit are both displayed prominently. His thick cock rests cheekily askew the top of his low hanging ball sac and as always I'm fascinated by its occasional "twitching". I am sure Timmy's twitch is involuntary and that he's not even aware of it. But it is one of his more endearing features and I find it quite charming. His age is indeterminate - after all a slave's birthday passes unnoticed and uncelebrated - but I guess him to be in his late twenties or early thirties. Altogether, Timmy is a beautiful slave and I suppose I have it fixed within my mind that he is the type of the slave I want to give to Max. But enough of Timmy and his distractions; I must return to the task in hand. Eagerly, I type the words "top quality slave boys + where to buy" into my computer and I am rewarded with a long list of slave dealerships all claiming to be the leader in their trade. This list is long and exhaustive and I take my time studying each dealer and weighing up their individual claims to have only the best quality slaves for sale. Eventually, one firm stands out and I press the "print" option on my screen. Within seconds I have the printed details and a location map for the firm of Darnell's Slave Emporium Purveyors of Top Quality Slaves We Stock only the Primest With it is an invitation to - "Drop by and leisurely check out our livestock in the luxurious surroundings of our discreet examination suites - We guarantee you won't be disappointed. Coffee, tea or beverages of your choice will be served as you view". How can I refuse such an invitation? And it is one I will accept tomorrow. Buying Max a Christmas present is becoming quite an adventure; one I now look forward to. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> My background is a humble one and in our society my parents would be considered `lower middle class'. They owned their own business - a hardware store out in the suburbs - and they had always provided well for their two sons. I appreciate the efforts they'd made in educating my elder brother, Talbot and I and I know of their struggle to find our college fees. Because of this I'd applied myself diligently to my studies and I was determined to make them proud of me and to eventually reward them for their sacrifices on my behalf. I've had exposure to slaves for most of my life. Initially, my father had two whitey `boys' to assist him in the business. I remember how as a child I'd considered it incongruous to hear my father address them as `boy'. To my childish way of thinking they were old - probably in their thirties at the time - and way past their boyhoods. I didn't realise this was the normal terminology for a male slave but over time I too started to disparagingly call them "boy". Thinking back on this, I wonder how they felt having me - a pubescent Black youth - referring to them in such a demeaning way. Always subservient, they'd respectfully referred to my brother and me as the "young Masters". As the business prospered, my father bought a third slave - a twenty-something "house-boy" ostensibly to assist my mother in the house. At the time my older brother - Max's father - was away at college and my sexuality was burgeoning. I later learned that my father, recognising this fact, had bought the young slave to assist me in my sexual awakening. He was meant to sleep on the floor alongside my bed but in truth he slept alongside me in my bed and it has to be said the slave was well used by me. My mother still has him as her "house-boy" and whenever I visit he is still pleased to see me - and I him. After graduating from college, I went to work for a firm of stockbrokers in the City. At first it was difficult in that I came from such humble origins and I lacked the `ivy league' background of my work colleagues. Essentially, I lacked their poise and easy self-assurance and even though they were always pleasant to me, they never fully extended the hand of friendship and this created a feeling of inadequacy on my part. Consequently, I never considered myself in their class and resigned myself to never rising to the same great heights within the firm's hierarchy that appeared to be their pre-ordained destinies. Then fortuitously for me the firm appointed a new vice-president, who for some reason took an interest in me. I am indebted to him for so many things and I owe him so much. He worked me hard and at first I was resentful of this - that is until I sensibly realised he was doing this for my own good. As my maturity developed, I understood that he was nurturing me and showing me my true potential. I learned so much from him and he introduced me to so many new and wonderful things. He took me with him on overseas, business trips and opened my eyes to so much. In every sense of the word he became my mentor and my friend and I have made a solemn promise to myself to NEVER disappoint him or to let him down. I live by that promise daily. Under his guidance, my confidence grew and my true potential shone forth. This surprised my colleagues and delighted the firm's principals who increasingly recognised my talents and used them constructively. Today I am the firm's `brightest light' and I contribute significantly to its profits. My efforts are recognised and are amply rewarded. I have just received my annual bonus payments and I am overwhelmed by my firm's generosity and I have planned to invest this money in "blue chip" stocks. Because of my humble background, I've always lived frugally and never squander my money. Today, because of my modest lifestyle and my carefully considered investments, I have a degree of financial security. It could be said I am a comfortably well-off. But, I see no reason to change the habits of a lifetime and I still live simply. But I did allow myself one extravagance. I had bought a young, white slave, Tim to keep my apartment in order and to look after me. Fondly, I recall the pleasure Tim has brought into my life. Now I want my nephew Max to know something of the wonder and excitement of owning his own white, slave boy for the first time. I will give him his very own white slave as a Christmas present. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> "Good morning Sir!" The young slave opens the door and as I enter, he dutifully drops to his knees and performs obeisance, "Welcome to Darnell's Slave Emporium. How can I assist you Sir?" They say first impressions are very important. And for someone as inexperienced as I am in looking to buy a slave, they are even more so. The first thing that impresses me about the Darnell Emporium is the good manners of its door slave. I can't find fault with him. One would have to say the founder of the firm, old Oswald Darnell - now deceased - had set just the right standards of behaviour for his slaves many years ago and it's pleasing to see that his son still applies these same standards. Some of my more `modern' contemporaries would no doubt regard this as "old fashioned" but I don't agree with them. There is something "old-worldly" about the courtesy and civility of being welcomed to the emporium by a comely, young slave kneeling at your feet and for the slave to sound as though he means every word of his greeting. I'm not to know that the slave's welcome is being discreetly monitored on CCTV and should it be anything less than satisfactory he'll be punished most severely. That too had been established by old Oswald Darnell. I look down on the naked form of the crouching slave and I decide to see more of him. "Stand up, boy!" "Certainly Sir!" The slave scrambles to his feet. "Does Sir require me to display?" "Yes I do!" I reply. The sharp intake of my breath is audible as I appraise the slave's body. The slave is white - this is in accord with the laws of our Black Society which states that only whites can serve as slaves to their Black masters - and he holds himself proudly erect under my scrutiny. He stands with his magnificent body drawn tautly erect, his fingers entwined behind his head and his feet apart. This has the effect of throwing his musculature into perfect relief and thrusts his banded genitals forward in an enticing invitation to examine them. The slave is handsome; he is as good looking as a whitey can be. I have always found it never pays to make too much of a comparison between a white slave and his Black master. I accept that ethnically we belong to two different worlds - as different as chalk and cheese and I know many of my friends regard their white slaves as being ugly. I don't and I have always been attracted to Timmy. There is something very appealing about this slave. Whenever he smiles -and I notice he does so a lot -his brown eyes sparkle and his even white teeth flash between his full red lips. This tells me he is a happy slave. He is sheer perfection and if he's meant to be an advertisement of what is contained in the emporium's holding pens then it works for me. I feel the first stirrings of my burgeoning erection. The slave stands at about six feet tall and I guess his weight at somewhere between eleven and twelve stones. Apart from his cropped brown hair, his body is hairless and his skin is a flawless, milky white and has a luminous sheen reminiscent of the finest porcelain. His powerful chest is adorned with two large, rose-red nipples and his deeply indented navel rests in the centre of his hard, flat belly. But it is his prodigious genitalia that attract my attention the most. The slave is well endowed; his cinched balls hang heavy between his muscular thighs and his thick, meaty cock is rampantly erect. He is irresistible and I step forward to take his throbbing cock into my hand. Eagerly the slave thrusts his hips forward in an effort to make my inspection easier. I am impressed by the slave's willing co-operation. As I said, I'm unaware that we are being watched on the CCTV but the slave knows and understands what is expected of him. The slave is circumcised - as I said earlier, this is mandatory for all white slaves - and I run my index finger around the still red marks of the foreskin's removal. This tells me this is a new slave possibly no more than a few weeks into his servitude. To confirm this, I order the slave to "turn around" and examine the comparatively fresh brand on the left flank. Lovingly I caress the delightfully rounded cheeks of the slave's ass and I'm instantly smitten by their silky smoothness. I'd come to the emporium today to buy a slave for my nephew; now I have found the slave I want and really I don't need to continue with my search. I WANT this slave. "What's your name, boy?" "Sir? I'm a slave Sir. I don't have a name. That is for my master to bestow on me should he decide I'm to be given a name." "Well then, what were you called before you became a slave?" "Benjamin, Sir. I was called Benjamin." "Well then Benjamin. Are you for sale?" "I don't know Sir. You'd have to ask that of my owner." The slave's manners are flawless and I am impressed. "Who owns you? What is your owner's name? "Why Sir! I belong to the emporium. Mr Darnell Junior is my owner." Well then boy, where do I find Mr Darnell Junior?" "Right here, I'm Richard Darnell," I turn to see who is speaking, "and you are?" I'd been so engrossed in questioning the slave and I hadn't noticed Richard Darnell's entry. Richard, on the other hand had been monitoring my interest in the slave on the CCTV - and sensing a possible sale - he'd decided he should intervene. "My name's Luther Thomas. I take it you are Mr Darnell Junior?" "Indeed I am Mr Thomas. Can I be of assistance?" "I hope so. I've come to buy a slave and I've taken quite a fancy to this boy. " "He's exquisite isn't he? Quite beautiful. Only recently enslaved and I have to say one of the sweetest tempered slaves I've ever come across. I can well understand your interest in him." "How old is he? Why was he enslaved?" "I'm not sure! How old are you boy?" "Twenty-six, Master." "Why were you enslaved?" "Master, I got into debt and couldn't repay my creditors." "It's as I thought. The slave isn't violent. As I said he's very good- natured." "Is he for sale?" "All our slaves are for sale, Mr Thomas. It's just that some are ready for sale sooner than others. However this boy isn't for sale - just yet! I hope to hold onto this boy for a while longer. We've trained him to welcome our customers to the premises. I think you'd agree - he does this well. I wouldn't like to lose him quite yet." "I'd like to buy him if that's possible. He's exactly what I had in mind when I came through your door." "As I said Mr Thomas, this slave isn't for sale. But please, allow me to show you some of our other stock. I'm sure you won't be disappointed. We have just received a new shipment of young whiteys - all prime stock and there are some real `lookers' among them. It's worth your while to at least look at them. You never know - you might see a good-looking, white boy that appeals to you more so than this slave." Even though I have no real interest in inspecting his stock, diplomacy dictates that I should humour Richard Darnell. He has said he is reluctant to sell the slave, Benjamin (I think this name is far too pretentious for a slave and should I be allowed to buy him for Max, it'll be abbreviated to "Ben" or Benji") and so I suppose I must at least show some enthusiasm. The deep plush carpets deaden our footsteps as we pass through the main building out across a rear courtyard and into the slave-holding pens. These are drab, utilitarian buildings made of grey, unpainted, concrete blocks and stand in sharp contrast to the luxuriously appointed showrooms and inspection booths we have just left. This difference is necessary of course. The shopfront needs to have visual appeal to the emporium's clients while the pens must be functional and easy to manage. As we enter through into the pens, I'm impressed by their cleanliness. It is obvious Richard Darnell runs a hygienic establishment and at first glance, I see that the pens are spotless and the slaves have fresh, clean straw to lie on. Yet despite his best efforts, there is that faint, animal smell you always associate with white slaves permeating the building. I conclude this is unavoidable and a natural consequence of having so many slaves incarcerated in such a confined space. The slaves are all whiteys- in our society there are no coloured slaves only white ones - and I am impressed. All are spotlessly clean, appear to be well-fed and in good health and they seem to be happy. As we enter, they rouse themselves from their lethargy and move to the front of their pens and stand hopefully holding the bars ready for my inspection. I am impressed and I have to agree with Richard Darnell's earlier description of them as young, prime stock. He is correct; many of them are real `lookers' and I find that I am indeed interested in subjecting them to closer scrutiny. "Can I ask you, Mr Thomas? What exactly are you looking for? What is your purpose for buying a new slave?" "Yes, Mr Darnell! I'm looking to buy a slave as a Christmas present for my nephew." "What a lucky young man to have such a generous uncle. Can I ask your nephew's age, Mr Thomas?" "Yes, he recently turned eighteen. I feel the time is right for him to have his very own slave." "Indeed it is! And do you have any special requirements of the slave you wish to buy for him?" "Essentially, I'm looking for a good looking, all-purpose boy - one capable of maintaining his master's home and looking to his needs, Mr Darnell. Does such a slave exist?" "That depends, Mr Thomas. I always say there's a slave to suit every requirement. But tell me - what are your nephew's needs? What specifically do you think your nephew will expect from the slave?" "Well for a start, loyalty and devotion to his master and a willingness to serve and please him, I guess. That's my first requirement." "Is there anything else, Mr Thomas?" He asks suggestively. I detect the innuendo in Richard Darnell's question. It is possible that Max will want to use his new slave to pleasure him in bed. In fact, it's highly probable. I know Max is a hot blooded, young man and I would think he is full of raging hormones. I imagine Max will have a lot of sexual energy to expend and consequently, he'll need a slave with considerable endurance and "staying power". However, I'm not willing to discuss Max's sex life with Richard Darnell. "No! As I said I'm looking for slave who'll give his complete loyalty and devotion to my nephew and of course he'll need to possess an unerring willingness to make Max's life easy and pleasurable." "Then you've come to the right place, Mr Thomas. But given your nephew's tender age, I would recommend an older, more experienced slave rather than a young, unbroken one. It would make it easier for him to control his new slave." "That's a good point, Mr Darnell. And yes, it's one I'll consider as I make my choice. But I'd prefer that he isn't too much older - or experienced. That would deprive my nephew of the chance to experiment with his new slave. Do you have such a slave, Mr Darnell? "Of course we do! Lots of our slaves will meet your requirements and as you know white boys do make ideal slaves." "Why is that, do you think, Mr Darnell? Why do whites make such good slaves?" "I don't really know, Mr Thomas. I just know they are happiest at being slaves. I suppose it could be part of their genetic make-up. When the white nations controlled the world they were by and large unhappy. They were competitive and aggressive in all their dealings with others and they believed they had a right to the major share of the world's riches to the exclusion of all inferior races. Their communities were unsavoury places; riven with violence. If you consider their unhappy history they were the cause of most of the world's ills. Now that they have been stripped of their authority and reduced to lives of service to their superiors the world is a much happier place. No more wars and the planet has become more civilised without their disruptive behaviour." "I suppose you're right. As you say the world is now so much safer. But I do wonder at white `acceptance' of the new world order. They appear so peaceable and it's almost as though they welcome their new status." "I believe they do welcome it, Mr Thomas. It's hard for us to fathom the mind of a whitey but I believe they have accepted the inevitability of their fate and see Blacks as their Superiors. I like to think they have come to accept that their true destiny is that of a subservient people and in that they find true peace and contentment. There's no doubt in my mind that the whites like to be controlled and directed by their Black Masters. Certainly in my experience I believe they are happiest when they serve us as our slaves." "Yours is an interesting theory, Mr Darnell. And you argue it with a strong conviction." I turn my attention to the holding pens. The long building is divided by a central passageway running down its entire length. There are twenty pens on either side of this passage with each comfortably holding twenty-five slaves. Richard Darnell tells me this is the optimum number for each pen although he adds that whenever there is a "glut" in numbers each pen can hold thirty. But humanely he does his best to avoid this overcrowding to lessen the stress on the pens' occupants. Today only about a third of the pens are occupied and subsequently the slaves, each hoping to be sold quickly, eagerly wait for my inspection. The front of each pen is enclosed by strong iron bars which give me an unrestricted view of the imprisoned slaves who now stand expectantly with their naked bodies pressed hard against those bars. I am impressed with the slaves' willingness to display themselves for me. And I'm charmed at the sight of so many cocks raised in manly salute to me. This is my first visit to the slave pens and despite my initial reluctance to accept Richard Darnell's invitation to inspect his stock, I now find the experience is an enjoyable on. Without exception, all the slaves are prime examples of young, slave flesh and this prompts me to ask. "Tell me Mr Darnell. Where do these slaves come from?" "Why, from all over Mr Thomas. Currently, the majority are local boys; however we have a few imports from other parts of the world. What we try to do here at Darnell's is to present our clients with as wide a choice as possible. My late father was a strong believer in diversity and giving the buyers a chance to purchase the unusual and he started importing slaves from other regions many years ago. I've continued with the practice." "So which are the imports? Are they mixed through the pens with the locals?" "No we keep the exotics segregated from the locals; they're in the last pens further down. While all our boys are peaceable we find it works better if they are separated from one another." "Tell me about the imports? Where are they from?" "We received thirty-five from the European zone, and I think - I'm really racking my brains here -seventeen from the Southern Americas. Oh! Yes we even have four from the Australasian zone. Now they are rare and quite exotic." "Why? What makes them so special?" "It's the distance, Mr Thomas. It's very expensive to bring them all the way from "down under" as you'd appreciate. The only other slaves more so are the Afrikaners' - but they tend to be exported to the adjacent Black, African countries. Like the Australasian, they are extremely rare and horrendously expensive over here. Also you have to add the additional costs to their prices - the import duty on these slaves is high and then there are charges for keeping them in quarantine for two months. But from time to time, Darnell's do manage to import a few Australasian and Afrikaner slaves- too few unfortunately. For every one we sell there are at least ten buyers." "Can I see them, please?" "Of course you can! They're in the far pen at the end. But I have to warn you - they are very expensive." As I walk down the passage way, I'm besieged by the earnest pleas of the imprisoned slaves to. `Please sir, look at me" or "Sir, I'm a good slave. Please buy me sir." I'm surprised at their efforts to sell themselves and I do my best to ignore them. But I can't ignore the rampantly erect cocks being thrust out through the bars at me and the enthusiastic invitations to. "Sir, feel me sir. Feel how hard I am, sir." There is only so much that flesh and blood can withstand and I do pause to examine the odd cock that takes my fancy. I'm touched by the responsiveness of their owners. They smile beguilingly through the bars at me and begin to suggestively thrust their hips forward in the hope that I'll like what I'm seeing and touching and buy them. But they are doomed to disappointment for I have made my choice. I would like to buy the slave Benjamin if I can convince Richard Darnell to sell him to me. And looking at these boys, I do agree with Richard Darnell; the natural condition for a whitey is that of a slave. They are living proof of this truth and, having lost all vestiges of white pride, they now seem overly eager to serve a Black Master or Mistress. When we finally reach the final pen holding the Australasian slaves, I'm halted in my tracks. The pen holds four slaves of impeccable beauty. But there is one in particular who attracts my attention. He stands shyly with his body pressed close to the bars and I see he is trembling. I wonder- is he trembling from fear or emotion? I sense vulnerability in this slave and for some unknown reason I find myself drawn to him. He is young - I guess his age at somewhere in his late teens and his body is a thing of beauty. He is of a similar height, weight and muscular development as the other slave Benjamin. However the similarity between the two slaves ends there. This slave has long, unruly, blond hair and a couple of bangs hang down over his forehead making him appear younger than he is. The medium-gold colour of his hair contrasts beautifully with the light bronze tan of his naked body. However, for me there is one jarring feature in the slave's perfection. It is the smooth whiteness of his midriff made more glaringly so by the tan of his legs and upper body. Obviously the slave had worked semi-clothed in his previous life. His face is boyishly handsome with an aquiline nose, full red lips and strong white teeth. His eyes are intensely blue - I've not seen eyes as blue as these - and as I look into them I see an incredible sadness. Strangely his sadness affects me. He stands in sharp contrast to the slave, Benjamin who wears his happiness so openly. What is causing this slave's unhappiness? Hadn't Richard Darnell and I just concluded that white boys make happy slaves? This slave gives the lie to that perception. I look into his eyes and see tears forming as he lowers his gaze; does he lower them out of respect for me as a Superior or is he embarrassed because I have glimpsed some deep, inner hurt. Perhaps it's the trauma of being enslaved and transported so far from his home environment to this alien country and city that has made him sad. I suppose the loss of family and all that is familiar to him is devastating. I feel for his melancholy and this disturbs me. Really, I shouldn't feel pity for a slave; it's unbecoming for a Black Master to feel sympathy for a white slave. I try to rid my mind of this unwelcome intrusion and gruffly, I instruct him to raise his eyes and to look at me. It is then I see his pain reflected in them. This boy has suffered much and I want to know why? He has about him a boyishness that is disarming and quite out of character with his strong masculinity. Inexplicably the description `man-child' flits through my mind and with startling clarity I see he is indeed a man-child. "What's your name boy?" Startled by my question, he looks to Richard Darnell for direction. "Answer the question boy. Be quick about it and show respect." "Sir, my name is Kurt." I like this slave's name. It's a good name for a slave in that it's short and direct. I believe a slave's name should be simple and without embellishments much like you'd give to a family pet. Indeed, those owners who do name their slaves prefer names of one syllable. But usually a slave remains unnamed and is referred to simply as "slave' or more frequently as "boy". However, in my case, I called my slave -"Tim". Although I do at times affectionately refer to him as Timmy. "Where are you from and how old are you?" "I'm from Australasia, Sir and I turned eighteen last year." I am perplexed by the slave's zone of origin. If I'd been asked to hazard a guess I would have said he came from the European zone and that he is of German extraction. Certainly his features are Germanic as is his colouring. Still, I suppose before Black Ascension there had been white migration and interaction between Australasia and Europe much as there had been here. "Why were you enslaved?" "My parents handed me over to the courts with a request that I be enslaved, Sir." "Why did they do that? On what grounds did they have you enslaved?" He fights back his tears and struggles to answer. Richard Darnell is annoyed by his slowness to respond and is about to chide him but for some reason I indicate to Richard to let the slave answer in his own time. Finally, he regains his composure and through his tears he blurts out. "They did so because I am gay, Sir. They told the court I was depraved and unfit to live as a free man in our community. My parents were so ashamed of me that they publicly disowned me and said if I wanted to engage in homosexual `slave-sex' then I should become a true slave." I wait as his sobs subside and my heart goes out to him. The pain I see in his eyes is for the loss of family love and the cruel rejection by those whom he'd loved. I am surprised at my feelings for this slave -and annoyed with myself -that I, a Black man can feel sympathy for a whitey. Nevertheless, I do feel a need to reach out to this slave. "This slave interests me, Mr Darnell. Is it possible for me to inspect him?" "Of course you can Mr Thomas. I'll have one of my assistants take him to a private viewing suite. The slave will be ready for you in about fifteen minutes. In the meantime, let's adjourn to my office and wait as he is prepared." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Richard Darnell is the perfect host. As we sit waiting in his office, He tells me more about the operations of his emporium and I listen with interest to more of his homespun philosophy about slaves. What comes out of this conversation is his strong antipathy to the white race and it's evident that he sees them as vastly inferior to our own racial group. He tells me he is a firm supporter of "keeping the whiteys in their proper place" which I gather is at the lowest level of society. Whilst he dislikes some other ethnic groups, he nevertheless sees them as superior to white Caucasians and in his view they rest at various levels somewhere between the subjugated whites and the triumphant Black race. These views are well known to me - indeed they are part of our school curriculum and they were instilled into me from my first day at school and continually re-enforced by my parents. I don't have an argument with them; in fact I recognise and accept them as a fact of my life. Whites are inferior and it's necessary for the Black race to rule them with an uncompromising firmness. Rules for the whites are absolute. They have no rights whatsoever - only obligations to their Black overlords. Denied all access to any form of political expression, they are governed by Black viceroys who decree where they are to live and work. Freedom of movement and all forms of transport are forbidden to them and they must remain within the boundaries of their segregated communities. The penalties for breaking these simple rules are harsh - instant and mandatory enslavement for life. However, in our own interests, we do allow them a small amount of latitude. We permit them to live within their segregated communities and we provide them with basic employment. Admittedly these are the most menial of jobs that no other ethnic groups will perform but this work serves to give their lives some purpose and keep them busy. My parents always regarded the whiteys as lazy and shiftless `ne'er -do- wells' who must be kept busy. My mother is fond of quoting -"idle white hands make for the Devil's mischief". She is a firm believer in this and her strap makes sure her white house-boy is never idle. But all aspects of their lives are rigidly controlled by us. Consequently they are poorly paid and we deliberately keep them at subsistence levels by paying them just enough wages to house, feed and clothe them without any luxuries. We are dispassionate in our regard for them and we view them simply as units of labour and vital components in our booming economy. It is the whiteys who provide the muscle that keeps the wheels of our commerce and industries turning. Generally speaking whiteys are poorly educated with many bordering on illiteracy. They are given the basics of education and are taught the rudiments of reading, writing and arithmetic - but no more than these - and they are forbidden access to higher education. Because of their "simple" minds, it's necessary for us to direct all aspects of their lives and we rule them with iron firmness. Given their historical belligerence and tendency to warfare, we have adopted zero tolerance of any bad behaviour among them and any misdemeanour - no matter how trivial -sees the offender automatically enslaved for life. The subjugated whites have a very high birth-rate - disproportional higher than any other ethnic grouping - and this works in our favour. The higher number of births among them and our zero toleration policies ensure that our slave-pens are always full and that the ever increasing demand for white slaves is met. I listen patiently to Richard Darnell's diatribe against the whiteys but I really have no desire to debate the subject with him. However we do agree on one thing - white boys make wonderful slaves. Our conversation is interrupted by a phone call to say the slave Kurt is ready for inspection and is waiting for me. Richard Darnell shows me the way to the viewing suite. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> They say presentation is everything and the wise merchant will go to great lengths to make his wares irresistible to his clients. This is very much the case with Darnell's Slave Emporium. The private viewing suite to which Richard takes me is luxurious in the extreme. The decor of the room is neutral and the walls are decorated unobtrusively in soft shades of pastel grey and lemon as a suitable backdrop for displaying his livestock. The expanse of the deep piled, grey carpet is broken by a raised marble plinth on which the slave Kurt now stands in chains nervously waiting for my inspection. Overhead spotlights shine down onto the slave's naked body and highlight his superb musculature to perfection. Obviously the heat from these lights is affecting his body which glistens under a sheen of perspiration. As I look at this beautiful, white slave, I am stirred by my lustful thoughts. My hearts beats furiously with my chest, and a lump of desire catches in my throat. My cock grows rock solid hard and `tent poles' in my pants. I look at the slave and I am affected by his air of vulnerability. He arouses me in ways that I don't quite understand. And then, I remind myself that I'm not buying this slave for me. He is to be a present to my nephew, Max. Strategically placed in front of the display stand is a lounge setting grouped around a coffee table and Richard invites me to sit a while, to take my time and to visually scrutinise the slave before I begin my examination of him. On the table is a silver pot of freshly brewed coffee as well as a plate of Danish pastries. The delicious aroma of the coffee reminds me I haven't eaten for some time and I gladly accept Richard's gracious invitation to partake of his refreshments. As a young, attendant slave - again a creature of incredible beauty - pours our coffee; I'm impressed by this small gesture of hospitality. It speaks volumes about the type of firm I'm dealing with. As we sip our coffee and munch on our pastries, Richard asks me. "Well, Mr Thomas. First of all, let me compliment you on your good taste. This slave is exquisite - one for the connoisseur isn't he? And he's ready for your hands on inspection. Does seeing him standing before you make your choice any easier? "Yes indeed! Mr Darnell. Looking at the boy makes my decision almost too easy. He'll make the perfect Christmas present for my nephew. " "Can I make an observation, Mr Thomas? And perhaps even a suggestion?" "Please do! Anything you say will be appreciated." "I think you do need to keep in mind that his boy is an imported exotic and a very expensive one too. Bear in mind that there are transportation costs, importation taxes and quarantine service fees to be added to price of this Australasian slave. Are you prepared to pay them? Think carefully on that Mr Thomas." "I take your point, Mr Darnell. And thank you for your candour." "And my suggestion is that you should inspect the boy very carefully before committing to buying him. Buying an expensive slave such as this one is very much a case of `caveat emptor', I'm afraid. We pride ourselves on the quality of our product and as you have just seen from your inspection of our livestock we deal only in the primest specimens. Once you have made your choice there'll be no going back. We don't offer a refund or exchange on a slave once he is sold. So think carefully before you make your final decision." "Thank you, Mr Darnell. I'll bear that in mind." "Then in that case I think it's better if I leave you alone to carry out your inspection of the slave without any undue pressure from me." "Thank you for your consideration, Mr Thomas. I appreciate your courtesy. But look..... I've got to ask......how far I can go in my inspection of the slave. I'll be frank with you.....it's been ten years since I last examined a slave." "Then in that case, you're in for quite a treat. There's nothing quite as satisfying as examining a slave who interests you. In the trade we call this fingering the slave. I'll leave that one to your imagination however. With regards to how far can you go in your fingering? There's only one restriction we apply. We ask that you don't sexually penetrate the slave. Otherwise he is fair game." "So apart from that one restriction - which by the way hadn't occurred to me- I am at liberty to fully explore him?" "Indeed you are. Mr Thomas. Let me just clarify the restriction we speak of. You're perfectly welcome to digitally explore him and you'll find he has been lubricated for your convenience. Of course you'll want to test him for soundness and tightness. I wouldn't want you to buy an untested slave - so please feel free to poke around as much as you want and examine him intimately. He mightn't like it and he'll squirm a lot but that doesn't matter. Although from what he said earlier about his sexual preferences he might enjoy the feel of your finger." "Thank you, Mr Darnell. There are no other restrictions?" "No! Feel free to milk him or if you're not up to doing that you can have him masturbate for you. That's always interesting to watch. Now, as to discipline, I don't think the boy will give you any trouble. As you can see he is chained to the podium but if he does prove unco-operative or displeases you in anyway then simple press this buzzer," Richard points to an alarm sitting on top of the coffee table, "and an overseer will be with you within seconds. I'll have one wait just outside the door with a strap in case you need him. Do you have any questions, Mr Thomas?" "No, none at all, thank you, Mr Darnell. You've thought of everything." I glance at the young slave as he waits apprehensively for me to begin. I wonder what thoughts are racing through his mind. As far as I can tell this is to be his first examination by an interested buyer and, if this is so, then he is a novice to inspections. As he sees me looking at him, he shyly lower his eyes to the floor and his body is suffused with the crimson red flush of his embarrassment. Or is it shame? Perhaps even humiliation? Before leaving the room, Richard Darnell issues the slave with final instructions on how he is to behave in my presence. "Now boy, listen carefully! Behave yourself and do everything Master Thomas tells you - quickly and without question. If you don't then you'll be punished. There's an overseer waiting just outside the door and if you misbehave in any way he'll put his strap to you. HARD! When he's done with you you'll have very sore ass. Do you understand?" "Yes Master." The slave replies in a soft, subdued tone. "I DIDN'T HEAR YOU! LOUDER! Do you understand me? LOUDER!" "YES MASTER!" The slave shouts. "Good boy! That's better. He's all yours, Mr Thomas. I'll now leave you alone so that you can examine him at your leisure. Take your time and should you need me I'll be in my office. And remember the overseer's just outside the door. Good Luck!" Finally, I'm alone with the slave and my heart beats faster within my chest. I pace slowly around the podium and assess the slave from every angle. Kurt is superb. He quivers in his nervousness -or is it anticipation of what is yet to come. I understand his nervousness for I share it also. I am trembling and as yet I haven't placed a hand on him. This is my first inspection of a slave I wish to buy since Tim and in my inexperience I ask myself - what do I look for in him? What qualities should he possess? I stand behind him and survey his rear. The slave is broad shouldered with a strong, muscular, V shaped back that tapers down to a trim, narrow waist. His pert, shapely ass is truly delightful and gingerly I reach out to test its firmness by taking an ass cheek in either hand. At the touch of my hands, the boy tenses and as his young body tightens allowing me to better appreciate the solid, rounded mounds of his buttocks. I'm delighted at the smooth, silky feel of his ass; it truly is a sensual sensation. I find my hands lingering for longer than they should as I gaze lustfully at the deep dividing cleft of his ass cheeks and I wonder what hidden delights are buried within its dark recess. I can feel the boy's nervous trembling and perhaps it's my imagination but I sense Kurt is readily responding to my touch. I remember that the Australasian slave had declared his gayness to us and perhaps Richard Darnell is right in suggesting this slave does enjoy the touch of another man's hand. Certainly, his movements, while subtle, are indicative of his readiness to oblige. Intuition tells me Kurt will prove a ready source of pleasure to his new master. And equally, I'm sure Max will find Kurt very easy to handle. I think back to when I had bought Tim and his initial training. I'd found I needed to persist in my efforts to break him and he'd suffered many canings and one or two whippings before he yielded to me - his master - what was rightly mine. But that was long ago and now Tim is both eager and at times very demanding of my favours; sometimes his expectations of me border on the sluttish. But good master that I am, I do try to keep him satisfied. I find this adds to his happy disposition. Fondly, I recall the fun I'd had with Tim as I broke him in and I want Max to experience this too. On my way into the showrooms, I'd noticed an annexe wherein the new buyer can purchase all the accoutrements of slavery. It is my intention to call in and buy a shiny new collar for Max's present. I'll even have his slave's name engraved on it in fancy, cursive script. And while I do this, I'll also purchase a selection of restraints and canes to assist Max in the training of his new slave. Why, I'll even throw in a whip for good measure. Still....... my hands linger on those two delightful ass cheeks and I'm reluctant to let go. In my mind's eye, I see Kurt lying across Max's knees with his ass upturned and waiting to be spanked. Up until this moment, my cock has been rumbling like some dormant volcano but the thought of Kurt's milky white ass being reddened by Max's hard spanking brings it roaring into life. I'll need to tread carefully if I'm to avoid a Vesuvius strength eruption. But then...... who can blame me for Kurt's ass is sheer perfection and if I'm honest it even surpasses Timmy's. I am entranced by it and momentarily, I visualise Kurt lying over my own lap with his beautiful ass wriggling and squirming as it awaits my firm hand or my paddle. At the thought of this, my cock jerks within the confined prison of my under briefs and fires off two warning shots of an impending cataclysm. I really do need to take things slowly or face an embarrassing situation. Forewarned, I call a halt and reluctantly remove my hands from the slave's ass. But I can't resist one final gesture. Playfully, I slap that beautiful ass and order Kurt to turn and face me. He does so and presents me with an unexpected, delightful surprise. The young slave is massively aroused! There is no longer any doubt and my mind is made up. This is the slave I will give as a Christmas gift to my nephew. All that remains for me to do is to finalise my purchase. Oh! And to visit the gift shop and buy Max the training aids he'll need. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Richard Darnell is delighted that I am buying one of his more expensive slaves and he moves quickly to finalise the transaction. He makes a quick call to my bank to confirm that I have sufficient funds and then he accesses the "Registry of Slaves" through his computer to register my new purchase. I marvel at the ease with which he does this. I think back ten years to when I had registered Tim. That had involved a personal visit to the Registry Office, accompanied by Tim. There, he'd been measured, weighed and scrutinised for all distinguishing features such as hair colour, eye colour and any birthmarks or scars - fortunately he was and still is without blemish - before I filled in the numerous documents required to register him as my property. I can't help but compare the tediousness of that occasion with the ease with which Kurt is registered. But ten years is a long time and we have progressed much during that period. I ask Richard Darnell to record that the slave's name is "kurt" - I have decided the slave is to keep his name - and that his owner is my nephew, Maxwell Charles Thomas. My nephew is unaware of it but he is now officially the owner of his first slave. Richard obligingly accompanies me to the accessories shop to help me choose the restraints and training aids that Max will need to train his new boy. Clever salesman that he is, he also tells me that Max might need to loosen and open up his new slave before use and I should buy some dildos of varying sizes for this purpose. Very kindly he gives me a fifteen percent discount on all my purchases and even makes a gift of a neck collar and a matching genital cinch for Kurt. I consider his gift is good public relations. I am a new client and today I have spent up big and no doubt Richard Darnell is keen to see me return to his establishment in the future. Still the collar and cinch are his top of the range models and quite expensive. Made of stainless steel with a tasteful, matt finish, they are quite beautiful in their eloquent simplicity and so unlike the gaudier, over ornamented, faux silver and gold ones so much in favour these days. They are similar to the ones that Timmy wears - I'd always eschewed ostentation - and I fondly remember the day I had fitted them on him. That was ten years ago and they have never been removed from him in all that time. Richard then tells me he'll even arrange to have the neck collar engraved with the name "kurt" and the slave's new registration number 964-172-390. Then as one final gesture of his goodwill, he kindly offers to keep Kurt here at the emporium until Christmas so there'll be no chance of Max seeing his present before I'm ready to give it to him. I am relieved at his generous offer; it had been at the back of my mind as to where I'd hide Kurt until Christmas. And in true Christmas spirit, he'll arrange for Kurt be shaved and groomed, fitted with his newly engraved collar and cinch before he is gift wrapped in a box and delivered to my brother, Talbot's home early on Christmas Day for placement under the Christmas tree. Generously Richard Darnell waives all extra charges and Kurt will be gift-wrapped, packaged and delivered for free. Once I have expressed my very genuine gratitude to Richard Darnell, I take my leave of him to return home. I walk away from Darnell's Slave Emporium a very happy and well satisfied client. I'm gripped by a sense of elation. It is ten years since I last bought a slave and during that time I had forgotten the thrill of the purchase. Today, I have re-experienced that pleasure; my interest has been rekindled and I'm determined to become a regular visitor to the city's slave holding pens and auction houses. Richard Darnell - in a clever marketing ploy - has invited me to call into the Emporium whenever I feel like it to peruse his livestock and to conduct a hands-on, no obligation to buy inspection of any slaves who catch my eye. I'll certainly take up his kind offer in the not too distant future. I feel so empowered by all this. But then I remind myself that I am a Black Superior and it is my birthright to inspect and buy a white, slave boy. And looking to the future, I have even asked Richard Darnell to inform me when he is ready to sell Ben. Graciously, he has given me the right of first refusal on that slave. The End.

CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES A Sequel to "A Reversal of Fortune" Chapter 41: "Taken to the River" Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) Chapter 41: Taken to the River Running alongside of Honky proved an enjoyable experience; I really relished the exercise and the fact that I could stretch out my legs and take long strides. My body - and my muscles - had been conditioned on the water-wheel but that was to strengthen my cardio-vascular system and to build up the strength in my upper body, thighs and legs. And it had succeeded, for I felt better than I had ever done. I knew instinctively that I would be proud of the body that lay beneath the grime which encrusted it. And while the wheel had served its purpose most admirably, the pace of my circular perambulations had been slow and had varied very little. That morning, as I ran, I felt the power surge through my body. My heart beat with a steady rhythm, my breathing was deep and even, my corded legs and thighs coiled and uncoiled with clock spring precision and I felt the power surge through my body. In truth, I felt good and I knew this augured well for my future role as one of my Master's ponies. I had run alongside Norge on several occasions and I'd always enjoyed the close proximity to him. But that day, as I ran alongside Sir Regis's pony, Honky I had time to scrutinise and admire him. And I liked what I saw. Honky's physique was that of a true pony. Tall and long-legged, it lacked the bulk of the heavy duty draft animal and, in fact, I had several opportunities to make that comparison for myself as we briskly trotted past the slow, lumbering drays hauled by their teams of twenty, sweating and straining slaves. Their wretchedness and their suffering took on new meaning for me; for I was on my way to join such a team. Soon, the wooden yoke-beam would rest heavily across my shoulders and my naked back would be exposed to the whips of my dray's supervisor. Even though Honky lacked the bulk of a draft, he nevertheless impressed with his physique. His superb musculature was highlighted by the taut leanness of his body and he exuded absolute power and strength. He moved with easy grace and I matched my steps to his as we ran in tandem. I was surprised by my ability to do this. In the past, whenever I'd run with Norge, I'd been hard-pressed to pace my steps to his and often I'd lagged behind. I'd simply tried to keep up with him - not always successfully - and perhaps I'd even slowed him down. Certainly, I recall that our Master had frequently resorted to the whip to spur us along. That morning, I realised my training on the water-wheel had helped prepare me for this and there was a measure of satisfaction in knowing that just six weeks of preparation had raised my fitness to such levels as to allow me to run effortlessly with Honky. Paradoxically, I even felt a sense of pride in my new found ability. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> After Claymore Jackson and Colton had taken their leave of them, Sir Regis and Sir Conn examined my back. As they did so, I sensed a degree of concern on Regis's part. Obviously, he'd been obliged to carry out Claymore's order that I be whipped. So in a sense the responsibility for any whip damage done to me would rest with the chief overseer and not with his junior. But, Sir Regis was well aware of my Master's instructions that I wasn't to be permanently marked - and I was aware that all La Fort's overseers knew of this - but I wasn't aware of their resentment at my `special treatment'. I didn't know they saw me as a spoiled slave whose Master was mollycoddling him. Of course the real reason for their resentment was that they were denied access to my charms. Any new slave brought to the plantation is welcomed as a diversion - to be used sexually - by both the overseers and the older hands among the slave herd. And, by my Master's strict instructions, they had been denied that with me. Indeed, I had seen Pollux sorely abused by my fellow slaves until he fell under the protection of a dominant slave. This was fortuitous for Pollux as, from then on, he was spared the multiple raping that was the hallmark of his first, few nights in the stables. However, I was unaware that Pollux had also been much used by the overseers. Pollux's initial appeal to them was understandable. When he'd first arrived at La Fort, he was a most desirable slave. Unmarked and unsullied, he'd presented an agreeable sight and his cleanness was in sharp contrast to the unkempt appearances of the longer serving field slaves. Who then could blame the overseers for using his mouth and his ass for their gratification? When first I'd set eyes on Pollux in the slave-pens as my Master examined him, he'd stirred me. I still remember my Master laughing at my obvious erection and his admonition to "steady on there, Rafe". I'd burned with embarrassment but I couldn't deny my lustful attraction for Pollux. The sight of him provocatively wriggling his ass through the bars of his prison to arouse my Master's interest had also worked its charm on me. Later, I'd had time to study Pollux more fully and I never doubted for one minute that, had I been his owner, I would have fucked him hard and often. And I'd wondered if, in fact, our Master had done so. Those first few days in the slave-gang must have been taxing ones for poor Pollux. As I knelt at the feet of Sir Conn and took his cock into my mouth or toiled on the water-wheel, I didn't know that somewhere out in the fields an overseer, in need of urgent sexual relief, would withdraw Pollux from his labours and order him onto his hands and knees, to spread his legs and to open his body for an impatient, rampant cock. Mercifully, as Pollux's body became begrimed by the sweat and dirt of his labours and he acquired the animal smell of a common work slave, the overseers soon lost interest in him and he enjoyed a measure of relief. Yet, I knew from my time as the owner of La Fort, there were many occasions when an overwrought overseer, no longer able to suppress his need, would select a comely young slave from a work-gang and take him to the river for cleansing. Once the slave had washed away the accumulated filth from his body, there on the riverbank, he'd then be used sexually. How did I know this? Always, as I drove around on my daily tours of inspection, I would notice some slaves were cleaner than others and had obviously been - in one of the many euphemisms of the overseers - "taken to the river". Claymore Jackson had confirmed this practice to Lucien Barrois on several occasions declaring it to be a perk of the job. As Lucien, I had found this to be perfectly acceptable and had never raised any objection. And I had no doubt the overseers would have treated me no differently to Pollux had my Master allowed it. That he'd placed me under sexual quarantine had obviously piqued the overseers. I suppose the prospect of fucking the man who'd once employed them had some particular appeal and my Master's edict against them doing so probably frustrated them. However, as relieved and thankful as I was to my Master for his decision to keep me free of sexual molestation there was an underlying question that nagged at me. Were his reasons altruistic or was there another more selfish reason for my preservation. Was he to exercise his Master's entitlement under the "ius primae noctis" law - the law of the first night - and take me into his bed and be the first to fuck me? As a former Master, I knew this to be a distinct possibility. My French heritage reminded me of the ancient concept of "droit de jambage" whereby a lord had the right to take the virginity of his vassals. Somehow, I knew that Guy Maratier would take my virginity - after all, in his position I would do the same. And as distasteful as this prospect appeared there was however, some solace in it for me. After my Master grew tired of me and caste me from his bed, I would be free to submit to Norge and open up my body to him. Sir Regis examined my back and commented to Sir Conn. "No lasting damage has been done to the slave. Mind you, he'll have a sore back and he'll wear the stripes for a few days. But he'll need to get used to that. That's a slave's lot. Still I'll play safe and rub some salve into the welts." Sir Regis was correct; my back was indeed sore. That morning, I had experienced both the cane and the whip. Which was worse? I had felt the intensity of the cane's pain as Colton, the major domo had applied it to my shoulders, ass and thighs. The pain was immediate and terrible to experience. Yet, its intensity was concentrated on my body's surface and gave way to a dull ache that quickly faded from memory leaving just the angry red welts as visible evidence of my caning. And over the next few days, these changed - to blue-black bruising. The whip's pain was more intense than the cane's; it was deep seated and longer lasting. And I was to find that it lingered far longer in the mind than the body. The physical pain travelled deep through solid muscle and flesh and yet it was the emotional pain and the anguish which embedded itself permanently into my consciousness. As Lucien, I had heard old hands say that the memory of the lash never fades and that it lingers forever. That morning, I learned that was true. The memory of my whipping will be uppermost in my mind for the remainder of my days. Mercifully, my whipping had been a light one of only five strokes but its intensity served to focus my mind on avoiding any future whipping at all costs. I would, in future, apply myself diligently to all instructions given to me by my overseers and I would work hard to please my Master. Over the past six weeks, I'd suffered the occasional blow from Sir Conn's whip and thinking back on this, I realised that he'd treated me lightly. True, there had been some pain as his whip fell across my exposed back but it primary purpose was to rouse me from my inattention to my duties and startle me into action rather than to punish me. However, there was a distinction between the occasional cut of the whip given by Sir Conn and the whipping I'd received from Sir Regis. I won't exaggerate and call my punishment at Sir Regis's hands a flogging. That would be to diminish the suffering of all those of my fellow slaves who have experienced severe flogging. What I'd experienced from Sir Conn's whip was an incentive to do better; what I'd suffered under Sir Regis was punishment and there was shame and humiliation in this for me. Over the coming days, the whip's pain will diminish but it will be replaced with a feeling of deep shame. Perhaps that is the whip's true legacy. At society's instigation, a slave lives a degraded life! It is one of unremitting hard labour over long hours, strict discipline and harsh treatment. These are the outward manifestations of slavery and they are there for all to see. But what's not obvious to the disinterested observer is the slave's inner suffering. Within the tumult of his emotions there is the sense of his own worthlessness at his lowly status together with the deep depression caused by his condition. And superimposed over these is the forced acceptance of his utter helplessness! And a slave's helplessness is never more apparent than when he is tied to the whipping-post and ritualistically beaten at his master's behest. After my whipping, as Sir Regis applied the soothing salve to my welted back, it served as a balm for my pain but not for my soul. I knew the pain would disappear along with the stripes. But my feelings of shame and humiliation occasioned my whipping were deeply imbedded into my psyche and would remain with me throughout my slavery. It can be said that, for a slave, the whip's pain is a lesson learned but its true aftermath for him is in the further diminishing of his humanity. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> After the more or less sedentary nature of the water-wheel, running alongside of Honky proved to be an enjoyable experience. It felt so good to stretch out and to pace myself to his speed. Of course, he is an experienced pony and his running was effortless. I felt the surge of his power and I tried to match it. But of course, he was the one in harness and all the work fell on his shoulders. But it was an insight into my own future. Within a few months, I would be in harness, running alongside Norge as we pulled our Master's trap. That morning, I can truthfully say I looked forward to that day with all my heart. Uppermost in my mind was my need to be re-united with my beloved Norge. But that was in the future; I still had two more phases of my pony training to complete before I was considered worthy enough to serve as one of Guy Maratier's personal ponies. The fact that the two overseers were taking me into the fields to begin the second part of my conditioning weighed heavily on my mind. Very shortly, I would be placed in a team of twenty, heavy-duty drafts and I would spend the next six weeks learning to work as a member of that team. The prospect of this appalled me not least because I was powerless to stop it. As Honky and I stepped out, it seemed that both Sir Conn and Sir Regis were in high spirits. I didn't hear their conversation over the steady pounding of our feet and the scrunching of the cart's wheels in the gravelled surface of the track leading out into the fields. But their laughter was enough to tell me that they were in high spirits. For my part, my attention was focused on what was happening in the adjacent fields where the harvest was now underway. I watched as the slaves were bent to their labours and I heard the load shouting of the overseers and the sinister hiss and crack of impatient whips as they sought out and found the back of any slave not giving of his best effort. But of more interest to me were the flat-top drays slowly lumbering to and from the fields delivering the harvest into the central mill. I saw the straining, stressed bodies of the wretched drafts as they hauled their impossibly heavy loads out of the fields and into the mills and I noted their brief respite as they quickly trundled the empty drays back out for a return load. And I fully expected that Sir Regis would soon draw Honky to a halt and harness me into one of those teams. But the overseers had one more stop to make before that happened. Temporarily, I'd forgotten that Honky and I were to provide them with `relief' in some quiet secluded spot. After running for some twenty minutes, I noted the gradual slowing down in Honky's pace; almost as though we'd reached our destination. I hadn't heard Sir Regis instruct him to "slow down" and it seemed to me that he'd acted on his own initiative. If I'd been familiar with the pattern of Sir Regis's and Honky's first run of the morning, I would know that this was a regular occurrence for them. And as I glanced sideways at Honky, I detected an air of eagerness in his demeanour; almost one of anticipation. We had reached a secluded spot by the broad river - isolated from the work gangs - and one obviously well known to Honky. He and Sir Regis were frequent visitors and had spent much time here. Honky turned of the roadway and stopped in a cleared grove of tall, stately willows lining the river bank. The spot was idyllic. The overhang of the trees caste dappled shade onto the lush green grass of the river-bank. Here, all was silent save for the gentle rush of the flowing water, the bird chorus high up in the overhead, green canopy and the honking of waterfowl as they splashed and fed in the rushes growing at the river's edge. I could see that Honky was in a heightened state of excitement. His chest heaved from his accelerated breathing and his body quivered in anticipation of his driver's use of his body. Earlier, I'd overheard Sir Regis's offer to allow Sir Conn to use Honky's ass for his sexual gratification. In return, Sir Regis was to use me. However, by my Master's orders, my ass was inviolate and so Sir Regis could only use my mouth. Fondly, I recalled the secluded spot close to the water-wheel where Sir Conn had taken me each morning and where I had honed my skills of giving him oral sex. At first, I'd resented being used in this way but my opposition quickly evaporated in the face of the intense pleasure I received from servicing Sir Conn's cock. Very soon, I'd looked forward to those clandestine moments away from prying eyes when I could pay homage to him. Now it appeared I was to pay similar homage to Sir Regis. I had mixed feelings about this. After all I'd only ever used my mouth to give pleasure to few others. Among these were Sir Conn and of course Norge. Sir Regis was new to me and I'd met him for the first time that morning and I was in fear and awe of him. And less than an hour ago, he'd whipped me. My concern was that somehow I would disappoint him and make him angry. Both overseers tumbled out of the trap and quickly stripped naked before plunging into the river. As they splashed playfully in the cool water, Honky and I could only watch enviously at the freedom our overseers enjoyed but which was denied us. I remember how as a boy, a youth and a man, I had once enjoyed the sheer delight of stripping naked in the heat of the day and cooling down in the waters of this same river. I watched as Sir Conn and Sir Regis splashed and frolicked in the water and it highlighted the bitter loss of freedom I had suffered the day I became a slave. All the spontaneity had been taken from me and I was made totally dependent on my superiors for even the most trivial things that free men don't give second thought. Their noisy cavorting scattered the waterfowl and stilled the birds in the tree canopy but their joy of life was so evident. It was a joy that neither Honky nor I shared. After a while both men grew tired of their water frolics and climbed out onto the river-bank and as I watched, I was reminded of two water gods emerging from the ocean's depths. Briefly they stood side by side and shook the excess water from their bodies. The sun caste dappled shade on their water glistening bodies and their magnificent torsos gave the impression they were carved from the exquisite black marble so popular with Renaissance sculptors. I felt the first stirrings of my erection and a quick look at Honky showed that he was already rampantly erect. Obviously, both overseers were comfortable in their common nudity; there were no signs of any inhibitions on their part. Of course, they ignored us and we had no part to play in their sensibilities. Honky and I, as slaves, were non-persons and so they thought no more of disporting naked in front of us than they would in front of a family pet or any other of the domesticated livestock on the plantation. Honky waited expectantly; always this was a scheduled break in his daily routine with Sir Regis and one he eagerly anticipated. However this morning, there was to be a change in this routine. Sir Conn - and nor Sir Regis - was to fuck him. But the overseers were in no hurry to use us and we were left to stand quietly as they boisterously wrestled with one another. I stood entranced by the activities of both Black overseers. Their nude bodies twisted and writhed in one another's strong embrace as each tried to get the upper hand. The contortions of their water gleaming bodies and the intertwining of their limbs playing out before Honky and me were reminiscent of an erotic Olympian tableau on some ancient Grecian urn or an ornament carved from shining ebony. Together Honky and I watched the play of their strong muscles rippling under the warm mahogany of their skins and the flexing of their powerful buttocks as each sought to secure his footing against the thrusts of his opponent's upper body. And as they duelled, I caught tantalising glimpses of their straining asses and of their pendulous balls swinging freely between their strong thighs. I'm not sure how long their jousting continued. But it finished as quickly as it had begun with neither declaring himself the winner. Both Sir Conn and Sir Regis collapsed laughing onto the grass and lay side by side to recover from their exertions. Both rested with their bodies outstretched; Sir Regis reclined on his back using his elbows as support and Sir Conn on his front with his folded arms serving as a cushion for his head. This gave Honky and me an unimpeded view of Sir Regis's prodigious cock lying at rest on top of his balls and an exquisite view of the rounded orbs of Sir Conn's curvaceous ass. I was enthralled by the erotic spectacle of these two proudly naked Black overseers who were quite obviously my physical superiors. Lying side by side, their conversation was interspersed with ribald laughter and I wondered if Honky and I were the subjects of their humour. Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted by Sir Conn's startled cry of surprise as Sir Regis playfully slapped his ass and I heard his comment. "Right then, Conn! Let's have you up on your feet. It's time we attended to these two white boys and give them what they're both panting for." Hastily, Sir Conn scrambled to his feet and with Sir Regis, he walked towards Honky and me. As they approached, my eyes were transfixed on their cocks which showed their burgeoning interest in the two of us. Regis wasted no time in unfastening us. As he was unharnessed, Honky, as though he was acting on cue, fell to the ground, placed himself on all fours and positioned his ass ready for his coupling. Obviously, his driver had trained him well. Unsure of what to do, I stood hesitantly and waited for Sir Regis's instruction. As he surveyed me, His nose wrinkled in disgust at the unsavoury condition of my body. "You stink to high heaven, boy! Get into the river and clean yourself up." I needed no second bidding; I ran to the river and took a high, flying jump into the water. Eagerly, I splashed around - oh how good it felt - but my high-spirits earned me a stern rebuke from Sir Regis. "Stop fooling around, Dumbass. I told you to clean yourself up. Now get to it." Subdued, I stood waist-deep in the water and washed my body. I used my hands both as soap and sponge and washed away the accumulated sweat, filth and other detritus of the past six weeks. Several times, I plunged beneath the water, resurfaced and rubbed my hands through the stubbled hair on my scalp. I palmed my hands down over my chest and belly and I paid particular attention to my genitals and ass-crack. How pleasant it felt. Momentarily, I had a sense of the freedom I'd once enjoyed and taken for granted. As I cavorted in the river, I was like a small boy or an exuberant youth and I was content to luxuriate in the almost sensuous feel of the water's coolness against my naked flesh. Once more I was called back to the grim reality of my day by Sir Regis's angry shout to. "Get out of the water, NOW!" Sheepishly, I scrambled out of the water and up the steep incline of the river's bank to where Sir Regis stood waiting with his cane in his hand. As I crawled onto the grassy verge Sir Regis playfully swiped my ass with his cane and ordered me to my knees. As I knelt, I looked to where Honky was crouching. His ass faced towards me and I could see his low hanging balls suspended between his strong thighs. Expectantly, his head was turned to his rear waiting for developments. "What are you waiting for Conn?" Sir Regis asked. "Can't you see Honky is ready and rearing to go? It's time for you to get stuck in!" I'm not sure if Sir Regis comment about "getting stuck in" was a deliberate play on words or the first thing that came to mind. But Sir Conn needed no second bidding and he took Sir Regis's injunction ... literally. I watched - with just a touch of envy - as Sir Conn positioned himself behind the kneeling pony and placed the head of his cock at the entrance to Honky's body. Honky's response was both enthusiastic and immediate. He relaxed his body as he pushed his ass back against Sir Conn's engorged member and his willingness to take it into the warm recess of his body was clearly evident. Sir Conn's enthusiasm equalled that of Honky's; he dispensed with all niceties and with several mighty thrusts of his hips his swollen cock was soon buried deep within the pony's rectum. Honky's initial gasp of surprise at this invasion of his body soon gave way to appreciative grunts and softs moans of pleasure. I was envious of the sight being played out before me and I was jealous of Honky. Each morning for the past six weeks, I'd knelt before Sir Conn and I'd taken his prodigious member into my mouth. In some foolish way, I felt I had some claim on my handler's cock and I was resentful of it being used on Honky. To date, I'd only ever taken it into my mouth but that morning I wished I was in Honky's place. As I watched Sir Conn fucking the pony, I was fascinated by the co-ordinated play of his back muscles, the thrusting of his powerful hips and the flexing and tightening of his ass-cheeks supported by the two columns of his corded thighs. The early morning sunlight filtering down through the trees caste dancing shadows on his body and his sex induced sweat beaded on the rich mahogany of his skin. I heard Sir Conn's heightened breathing and the slapping of his hard, black flesh against the pony's yielding, white ass and enviously, I heard Honky's vocalising of his mounting passion. I was entranced by the erotic spectacle of their rutting and all my attention was focused on Sir Conn's powerful riding of the slave beneath him. The young overseer's demeanour was one of total disregard for the slave. Leaning forward, he took hold of Honky's grotesque mane and used it to steady the pony's body against the increasing violence of his thrusting. All of this distracted me and I'd forgotten why I was on my knees. However, Sir Regis hadn't forgotten and his sudden cuff to my right ear re-focused my attention on him. He tapped the side of my mouth with cock and ordered me to. "Open your mouth, boy! You have a job to do. Stay focused and don't concern yourself with what's happening to Honky." My world was centred on Sir Regis and I gazed with awe at his cock. Even in its flaccid state it was impressive. His was only the second black man's I'd ever seen and yet I wasn't altogether a stranger to black cock. After all, I'd been servicing Sir Conn's on a daily basis for the past six weeks. As I knelt at Sir Regis's feet, the thought uppermost in my mind was about the enormity of the task in front of me and how fortunate I was to have had those six weeks of practise. Without them, I doubt that I would have been equal to the task. I remembered back over those six weeks and how difficult it had been at first for me to take Sir Conn's cock into my mouth. I recalled my initial inability to do so and of my desperate struggles against the unaccustomed invasion of my throat. Sir Conn was annoyed with me and he'd cuffed my head before grabbing hold of my ears and using them as handles to hold my face against his groin. There was no escaping his insistence and yet I struggled in his firm grasp. I recalled my gagging and spluttering as I tried desperately to meet his impatient demands and of my panicky belief that my air supply had been choked off. My desperation was matched by Sir Conn's impatience and it would have to be said my first attempts at giving oral satisfaction to a Black man was a dismal failure. Certainly Sir Conn believed so and in his frustration, he berated me and told me I must do better or suffer the consequences of my disobedience. Consequently, the remainder of that first day was filled with trepidation for what awaited me the next morning should I fail to give Sir Conn the satisfaction he demanded from me. But it has to be said that all things can be mastered and with perseverance and my determination to do better, I did improve to such an extent that Sir Conn often affectionately referred to me as his "white cocksucker". Sir Regis was impatient for me to start and he pushed my head down onto his cock. Yet I did have time to do a quick appraisal of his prodigious genitalia and his cock even exceeded Sir Conn's in both length and girth. This was confirmation of a thought that had been running through my mind these past few weeks, namely - "were all Black men as well-endowed as my handler?" Sir Regis gave an eloquent answer to my question. Indeed they are! Sir Regis was circumcised - as was Sir Conn - and I wondered if that was accepted practice among the Black Race. But the question was academic and I wasn't there to consider such matters. Sir Regis required more urgent and practical things of me. Even in its semi-aroused state his cock was notable for its length and thickness. As I noted the swelling of the heavy veins on the surface of the blue-black shaft, I felt a stirring in my own loins and the flaring mushroom shaped glans beckoned for my attention. Eagerly, I leant forward and began to caress it with my moist tongue. As I did so, I felt a slight shiver run through Sir Regis's body and I heard his soft sigh of anticipation. Emboldened, I ran the tip of my tongue down along the underside of his shaft to his scrotum where I paused long enough to take each ball into my mouth and suckle on it. I savoured both the scent and taste of his manhood and my own cock responded in the only way it could. But Sir Regis was becoming impatient and he grabbed my head to guide my mouth to his cockhead. Once more, he used his prick to tap the side of my mouth and once more I was commanded to. "Open wide Dumbass! Take my cock into your mouth." As I looked hesitantly at Sir Regis, it wasn't my ability to satisfy him that worried me. Rather it was my ability to take his massive, thickly veined prick into my mouth and throat. I tried to obey but I struggled to take the massive organ into my mouth's embrace. Over the past six weeks the muscles of my jaws and throat had been exercised extensively by Sir Conn and they were relaxed. Yet, try as hard as I might to accommodate Sir Regis, I failed. And I failed dismally. Sir Regis held my head in a vice-like grip and forced my head down on to his cock. Then with a powerful thrust, he rammed it deep within my mouth. I battled during those first few moments; the bulbous cockhead filled my mouth and my throat muscles closed up in an attempt to stop any further intrusion. Impatiently, Sir Regis grabbed hold of my ears and slammed into me and berated me for my poor performance. He called me a useless, worthless white slave and told me of the great honour he - a Black man - was paying me in allowing me to suck his cock. And as he scolded me, he continued to box my ears as ordered me to. "Try harder, dumbass or I'll whip your sorry white ass. Now open up and take it all!" He ignored my gagging and my spluttering and through my struggling panic I heard him tell me to relax and breath through my nose. Mercifully, he paused with his thrusting long enough to allow me to settle into a pattern of deep rhythmic, nasal breathing. With each breathe, my panic subsided and the muscles of my throat relaxed enough to allow me to swallow a little more of his cock into its depths. Dutifully, I applied myself to giving Sir Regis the pleasure he demanded of me. I drew on my past experiences with Sir Conn, Norge and my Master's guests at his soiree and worked hard to please the Black overseer. And I had to admit to myself that it felt good. Very Good! It was becoming more pleasurable for me and I hoped it was proving so for him. And it was soon obvious that I was pleasing him. I felt the tightening of Sir Regis's body, the arching of his back and the clenching of his ass as he continued to thrust into me. I listened to his soft moans of pleasure and noted his rising passion. My bobbing head kept time with the to and fro thrusts of his hips and we were lost to all around us. And yet, vaguely, in the background, I did heard Honky's loud, appreciative grunting as Sir Conn plunged deep into him, but I paid them scant attention. Temporarily, I forgot that I was a slave and that Sir Regis was my superior. Then, I began to feel the first small bursts of his impending ejaculation and to taste the sweetness of his essence. With our rising ardour, we quickened our pace. Simultaneously, my mouth siphoned and my throat muscles massaged his cock; stimulating and coaxing it into a final, climactic eruption. Once more, I felt the arching of his back and the tight clenching of his buttocks; my ears rang from his loud, exultant cry as the floodgates of his passion opened to overwhelm me. Wave after wave filled my mouth to overflowing and in my eagerness to please him I swallowed hard. I owed it to him not to allow one drop of his precious semen to spill on the ground. I waited patiently as his cock wilted in my mouth and for our laboured breathing to subside. I looked up into his face and I was rewarded with a pat on the head. I saw the beads of sweat trickling down his chest and over his belly and I found the heady scent of his perspiration intoxicating. I remained on my knees and maintained a respectful silence as I waited for Sir Regis's next command. I watched intently while Sir Conn continued his hard riding of Honky and I heard his loud, exultant cry of satisfaction as he climaxed inside the pony's quivering body. Breathing heavily, he lay prone along Honky's sweat covered back as his cock wilted and his breathing returned to normal. Obviously, Honky had pleased Sir Conn. By way of satisfaction he gave Honky a series of hard slaps on the ass as he expressed his thanks to Sir Regis. "Man! That was so good! Regis, your pony is one helluva fuck!" "I told you he was, Conn. I said you'd enjoy him. And your boy is a great cocksucker by the way. We'll have to do this again if you're up for it?" "YES! YES! Please Regis. Tomorrow?" "Conn! Your enthusiasm shows your satisfaction with my pony. I'm glad Honky gave you a good ride. I've never had a complaint with him. He's always ready and rearing to go. What a pity we can't use Dumbass here. I'd love to find out if his ass is as half as good as his mouth. It's a pity his ass is out of bounds." I listened as the two overseers discussed Honky and me. It was obvious both were pleased with our performances. I wondered whether these interactions would become a regular feature of my day and would they continue to use Honky and me for their sexual gratification. Then I remembered that I am to work in a team of drafts and that most likely this would limit Sir Regis's access to me. Still, I hoped that somehow he'd find a way around this. I hope so! "Tell me Regis. Did dumbass satisfy you too?" "Yes eventually. But he started out badly though. Coughing and spluttering as though he was choking. But a few cuffs to the ears soon brought him into line. However, once I got him started I had no complaints. I have to hand it to you, Conn. You have trained him well. I love his tongue action by the way. Did you train him or does that come naturally?" "Dumbass is a natural cocksucker, Regis. It's one of his better features." "I'd have to agree with you on that Conn. Are we are both satisfied with the two slaves? If so, do you think we should reward them? What do you say Conn? Have they earned it?" "Well I'm happy with Honky's efforts and obviously Dumbass pleased you. But what type of a reward do you have in mind Regis? I would think allowing them to service our cocks is reward enough for them." "It's nothing too generous. I thought a portion of apple would show that we are pleased with them. I sometimes give Honky a slither of apple as a reward after I've used him. He's always very appreciative and I think it makes him perform better the next time in the hope for further reward." "I'm ok with that Regis. Look, I'm sorry to break up the party, but shouldn't we be moving on? I mean we need to get Rafe out and into a team before Claymore shows up. I think he'd be unhappy if Dumbass isn't in harness and hitched to a cart on his next round of inspection." "You're right Conn! We should get a move on. Look, will you hitch Honky to the cart and secure Rafe? I'll cut an apple and they can chew on it as they run." To be continued.............

CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES A Sequel to "A Reversal of Fortune Chapter 40: "The Major Domo" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) Read my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures." Chapter 40: "The Major Domo" Despairingly, I waited for Claymore to declare who'd won the toss. But, unexpectedly, I was to enjoy a brief reprieve as Colton, the major domo drove his trap into the yard and reined his hard-pressed pony to a sudden halt. The pony was obviously distressed. Driven hard, his body was lathered in sweat; his powerful chest heaved, his nostrils flared and his mouth gaped open, as panicky, he gulped air into his tortured lungs. His knees sagged and only his harness stopped him from collapsing to the ground. His back and ass wore the angry, red, whip marks of his driver's impatient haste and despite my own dire predicament; I felt pity for the abused pony slave. Once I wouldn't have been concerned with the pony's distress. Indeed, to my eternal shame, I had abused Norge in similar manner and never given it a second thought. But that morning, I knew my future was to serve as my Master's pony and all this took on special relevance for me. That morning, as I looked at Jake, Honky and Colton's nameless pony, I saw with clarity what awaited me between the shafts of Guy Maratier's new, two ponies' trap. I too would be driven hard to the point of collapse and whipped to maintain my speed and endurance. The thought terrified me and the only redeeming factor in this was that I would run alongside of Norge and share the burden with him. As I knelt before the overseers and fearfully contemplated my imminent whipping, my thoughts turned once more to Norge. As always, when I am at my lowest ebb, I think of Norge and draw strength from him. And that morning, I needed his support more than ever. Colton's arrival took the three supervisors by surprise; it was completely unexpected. Normally, at this time of the morning, Colton would be busy with the affairs of the house and its gardens. I recalled from my days as the master how, at this hour, he'd have been busily haranguing the house-servants and the gardeners and applying his cane to more than one dilatory ass or pair of shoulders. Colton is an exceptional major domo. As Lucien Barrois, I'd always regarded him as without peer. As Lucien, I'd always demanded that peace and harmony prevail in my home and Colton had always achieved this and how he did so was of no concern to me. I knew him as a stern disciplinarian and that he was ruthless in his control of the house and garden slaves. I knew this because I'd often inadvertently witnessed him chastising a slave. And I knew of the secluded, punishment courtyard discreetly hidden away behind the outbuildings - euphemistically abbreviated to and fearfully spoken of by the slaves as `the yard' - where he handed out the more severe canings and chastisements. It was a place I never visited; as the master I'd considered it beneath my dignity to go there. I'd given Colton `carte blanche' in the management of my slaves and he reigned supreme in the house, its gardens and `the yard'. As Lucien, I'd known that all my house-slaves routinely visited `the yard' and I always knew by the stripes on a slave's back when this was so. A visit to the yard worked wonders in a slave's demeanour. It made him more willing to serve and it certainly sweetened his disposition. La Fort's house-slaves were always diligent, hardworking and possessed pleasing manners. Above all they met all the hallmarks that I, as Lucien, had demanded of my slaves; they went about their duties with quiet efficiency and unfailing courtesy. And as Lucien, I gave credit where credit was due. I'd acknowledged Colton's efficient stewardship of La Fort's stately home and gardens and each year I had expressed my indebtedness to him with a more than generous bonus payment. So like the three overseers, I too was puzzled by his sudden, unexpected visit. What had brought him to the stable so early in the day? "Good morning, Colton." There is a note of surprise in Claymore's question. "What brings you out here so early in the day?" Good morning, Claymore. Good morning, Regis. Good morning, Conn." Colton acknowledged all three overseers but ignored me. But he gave me a cursory glance and I wondered if he recognised me. I doubted it. How could he recognise the filthy, dishevelled creature kneeling in the dust of the stable-yard? "What brings me here at this ungodly hour?" As he answered there was an edge to the major domo's voice and I understood why his pony was so stressed. Obviously, he'd been on the receiving end of Colton's bad humour. "It's those friggin' Maratier's ... that's who. The more I come into contact with them the less I like them." "Colton, what's put you into such a bad humour? What have they done to upset you?" "Guy Maratier - he's turning into a real prick you know - was in touch with me last night. He tells me his grandmother is to visit La Fort soon and he wants everything in perfect order for her stay here." "I see!" Claymore's curiosity had been aroused. "I suppose it's inevitable that she would want to visit. Actually, I'm surprised she hasn't honoured us with a visit before this. I've been half expecting it for some time." "I don't know about that. It could have to do with her moving into the new home that her grandson has bought for her. On his last visit, I overheard him talking with his lawyer; I forget his name ......" "Simon Barrow!" "Yes that it. Thank you, Claymore. Now there's another upstart for you." "Colton, calm down and tell me what has Simon Barrow done to upset you? "It's just his arrogant manner. Whenever he visits, he swans around the place giving orders to the slaves and takes it upon himself to chastise them. This ignores me and the fact that I am responsible for their discipline. He undermines my authority with the slaves and Guy Maratier does nothing about it. " "I can see why that would upset you. I've only ever spoken briefly with the lawyer whenever he's toured the plantation with Guy Maratier. And it seemed to me he asked a lot of questions about the farm and its operations. I did wonder what business it was of his. But I thought perhaps it was all part of his brief as the Maratier's lawyer." "I don't know about that, Claymore. But I do know he's a frequent visitor and he and Guy Maratier are as thick as thieves. I don't trust the lawyer. He strikes me as cunning and devious. From my observations, he now has his feet under the Maratier table and he's using this to his advantage. Guy Maratier seems to be relying on him more and more for advice." "Well whether or not his advice is sound is something that only time will show, I guess. But you mentioned that Guy has moved his grandmother into her own home. Tell me more about that." "Well, I wasn't part of the discussion. I only overheard Guy and Simon Barrow talking. But it seems that Guy Maratier bought a house and has set his grandmother up with her own household. I got the distinct impression that he was glad to see her move out of his home. Apparently, her stay with him was very disruptive; she re-organised the household to her suit her needs and instituted a newer, stricter regime for the house slaves. Apparently, she took quite a shine to Guy's body-slave and she has taken him with her to serve as her house steward." "And now she wants to visit here. Colton, I suppose it will have all the hallmarks of a triumphal return to the ancestral home. I guess while she's here, we'll just have to put up with "la Grande Dame" and her demands." "That's alright for you, Claymore." Colton's reply still reflects his bad humour. "You're out here. Unfortunately, I'll be in the house with her. I understand she likes to take over the running of the household. I wonder how that will affect me. And remember she was responsible for Cato being sold." "True, Colton! But remember - Cato was a slave. You're a free man and she can't sell you." "You're right of course, Claymore. But she can make my life uncomfortable while she's here, can't she? And I suppose she could persuade her grandson to fire me and hire another major domo should I displease her. " "I doubt that will happen, Colton. You're too important to the efficient running of the house. But tell me when is she coming and for how long? Do you know?" "No date has been fixed yet but I believe the length of her stay is flexible. She'll make up her mind when she is here." "Well then, obviously we have a role to play in all this otherwise you wouldn't be here. What can we do to help?" "Guy Maratier wants the house to be a showplace and the gardens to be in immaculate condition for the `royal visit'. That's not a problem and I'll ensure the slaves work hard to meet his requirements." "That sounds reasonable enough. I would think Guy wants to impress his grandmother especially after all her years in family exile. I suppose it will be a bitter-sweet home-coming for Charlotte Maratier." "Well, I don't know about the sweet part of the homecoming but I'm sure there'll be a lot of bitterness. I understand she has a very sour disposition and is a bit of a harridan. But as you suggest, I guess the Barrois made her that way. Still that doesn't help me. I will have to put up with her and see how it all works out." "Colton, stay calm and remember that it could be worse. She could be coming to live here permanently." "Claymore, that doesn't even bear thinking about and you're right. I shouldn't allow myself to become so worked up over her visit. It's still some way off yet and I have a lot to attend to before then. Anyway, she mightn't like it here and decide not to stay long." My curiosity was aroused and I listened intently to this conversation between Claymore and Colton. Although the affairs of my Master shouldn't be my concern, I was interested to hear these details about him, his family and his business interests. Slaves are denied intellectual stimulus. We are denied access to books and newspapers and whatever happens in the wider world is non-existent save for what we overhear from our masters. For us, no world exists beyond the boundaries of our owners' properties and we are forbidden to ever stray beyond the borders they impose upon us. Consequently, a slave's world is confined to that of his master's household or his landholding and so all that happens within this very limited world assumes great importance to a slave. Slaves are notorious gossips - a fact I was well aware of as Lucien Barrois and I'd never discussed my private and business affairs within a slave's hearing. I knew there was always a kernel of truth in any rumours circulating among my slaves and that they were embellished with each retelling. The truth contained in the first telling of a rumour had little resemblance to the exaggeration of the latest. But this discussion between Claymore and Colton wasn't mere gossip or slave tittle-tattle. It was genuine and I was eager for more news. The fact that they openly discussed these matters within my hearing showed their complete disregard for me. It was as though I didn't exist. I was interested to hear that my nemesis, Charlotte Maratier was now presiding over her own household and that she'd taken my former bed-slave, Ben with her to act as her steward. Ben had certainly soared high in the hierarchy of slavery. Recently, I'd caught glimpses of Ben's ambition - an ambition he'd hidden from me when I was his Master. Or it could be that Ben had always been ambitious and he'd used me too and that I had never seen this side to his character. Ben had played his cards right and he now enjoyed the privileged life of an old woman's pampered pet. In a way I envied him. How much easier his life is when compared to my own. I wondered if I would see Ben again. Will Charlotte Maratier bring Ben along on her visit to La Fort? I supposed there was every reason to believe that she would. Then there was the reference to Simon Barrow; again a source of interest to me. I knew what Colton said about his growing friendship with my Master was true. I had seen it developing in the days before I came to La Fort and I'd seen it whenever the two had visited me during my time on the water-wheel. As Lucien, I'd always kept Simon Barrow at arm's length. I didn't do this out of any sense of my superiority over him. It was simply a matter of sound business practice. My grandfather had always impressed upon me that business and pleasure don't mix successfully and that business acquaintances should stay just that and never becomes friends. In Lucien's experience it had been sound advice. I also agreed with Colton that Simon wasn't to be trusted. I supposed some of my business astuteness remained with me even though I was a slave. And thanks to my grandfather's training of me, I remain a good judge of character and I saw Simon acting very differently towards my Master than he ever did with me. In my observation, he was insinuating himself into Guy Maratier's life but to what extent I didn't know. Later, I will hear that my Master had appointed Simon as the CEO of the Maratier business conglomerate with sweeping authority. I will wonder if my Master had acted wisely in doing this and it would never have happened on my watch. But I reminded myself that I had been raised to lead the businesses that now belong to Guy Maratier. My whole life had been geared to that end whereas my Master had led a precarious hand to mouth existence which most likely had given him a natural cunning but little else. But cunning isn't business acumen and this is something Guy Maratier still lacked. And I supposed it was natural for him to look to Simon for advice and guidance. After all, Judge Matthews - on the day of my enslavement - had ordered my former lawyer to assist Guy Maratier in assuming control of the Barrois estate and assets. So in a sense, Simon was simply following the instructions of the court. And it has to be said that Simon does possess a keen intellect and sound business judgement. However, there is a certain irony that, in me, my Master possessed a slave eminently suited to assist him in his enterprises and I wondered had this ever occurred to him. Or had his need for revenge and his hatred of the Barrois name blinded him to the reality of my true worth to him. By that stage, I had progressed far enough into my slavery that I would have served him faithfully in any business capacity of his choosing. But rather than use my business talents he preferred to squander them in making me serve as his pony. It appeared he'd allowed himself to be inveigled by Simon Barrow into appointing him as his right-hand man. That day, as I listened to Claymore and Colton discuss Simon Barrow, I never considered the consequences of my Master placing so much trust in my former lawyer. But then I wouldn't have cared. My Master had made his bed and he must lie in it. I cared for neither man. One was abusing and humiliating me as his slave while the other never lost a chance to taunt me about what I'd lost and that I was now owned property. Whatever ill-fortune awaited either man didn't interest or concern me. "Colton, you haven't told us why you are here. How can we help you?" "Guy Maratier wants all the walks and pathways in the gardens re-gravelled with white quartz. As you can appreciate this is a big job and will require a lot more labour than my garden slaves are capable of giving and I need to have the gravel carted from the quarry. I did point this out to him and suggested all this was unnecessary as the paths are always maintained to a high standard." "What was his re-action to that?" "It was like pouring water on a duck's back. He wasn't listening. He snapped that is what he wants and told me to get it done. And that is why I'm here." "Then what do you need from us, Colton?" "Well I'll need a dray and a team to cart the gravel from the quarries to the gardens and I'll need an additional gang of slaves to spread it over the paths." "Damn the man! This couldn't have come at a worse time. With the harvest in full swing we need every slave out working in the fields." "I know that, Claymore and I hate asking. But what can I do?" "I know Colton. It's not your fault. But if that is what the boss wants then so be it. I'll check the paths with you later this morning and we can decide on how large a gang of slaves you'll need to spread the gravel. And Regis will place a dray and team at your disposal. When do you want to make a start on this?" "The sooner the better I think Claymore. Is tomorrow too soon?" "No! We can work around that, can't we Regis?" "No problem Claymore. I'll organise a dray and team for first light tomorrow morning." "Well there you are Colton. Problem solved." "Thank you Claymore and thank you too Regis. That's a load off my mind. But I am sorry that you have to take slaves away from the harvest. That is more important than spreading gravel around the garden paths." "Don't worry Colton. The other slaves will have to take up the slack. Their overseers will work them that much harder." "Thanks again Claymore. Still this just shows up Guy Maratier's lack of experience and understanding of how the plantation works. But you'd expect this from him. At least the former owners would never have made such demands during harvesting." "That's true Colton but then they were better attuned to life at La Fort. They had a better understanding of the place." "And they had more class. I'll say that for Lucien Barrois - he knew how to conduct himself with dignity. The Maratier's will never have the class and style that he had. But I suppose that isn't doing him any good as a slave." "Well judge for yourself, Colton." "I don't understand Claymore. What do you mean; judge for myself" "Don't you recognise the slave kneeling before us? It's the former owner, Lucien Barrois. And you're right. He doesn't possess any dignity. He's just a naked slave waiting to be whipped and then put to work." To say Colton was taken by surprise was an understatement. As he looked down on me, I heard the audible, surprised intake of his breathe. The question flashed through my mind - had I changed that much that he'd not recognised me. But then, I suppose he'd not paid any attention to the filthy, bearded slave crouching naked at the feet of the four overseers. His glance at me would have been cursory and I wouldn't have registered in his consciousness. And why would I? To him I was just another slave. Once over his initial surprise, Colton showed me more attention. Slowly, he circled my huddled form like some predator seizing up a possible meal. Then, he ordered me. "Get your nose to the ground boy?" I hastened into position and waited. Once more I felt the shame of my nakedness. How many times had I been ordered to debase myself like this? I had lost count. To obey an order does get easier - as Norge had said it would - and I re-act instantly to all commands given to me. But the shame never diminishes. Always I am aware that my body is posed obscenely to a freeman's scrutiny. And so it was that day. Colton had seen me arrive at La Fort naked and running alongside Norge and Pollux and he'd watched as Pollux and I were collared and branded at the forge. And he'd even visited me during my time on the water-wheel to gloat and taunt me. But he'd never seen me in such a position of abject shame. As always, I was very aware of my naked vulnerability. I was conscious that my ass was elevated and positioned for whatever Colton decided on next. Once or twice, as the master of La Fort, I'd stumbled across Colton castigating one of my house slaves. The wretch was in exactly the same position that I found myself in and I'd watched as Colton harangued him before laying into him with his cane. That morning I wondered - was that to happen to me? I waited in nervous anticipation. I didn't have long to wait. Colton was without his customary badge of authority; the cane he usually carried attached to his belt. Instead that morning, he had a driver's crop which he'd used to cruel and devastating effect on his suffering pony. Part of me knew what was coming and so I wasn't totally unprepared. But even so the fury and the passion of his beating of me took me by surprise. I don't know how many times he applied the crop to my upturned ass - I was too distracted by the pain to count - but it has to be said Colton's thrashing of me was full of pent-up emotion. Was Colton giving vent to his anger at Guy Maratier instructions to make the house and gardens ready for Charlotte Maratier's visit? Or was there another element at play in his punishment of me? My yelps disturbed the early morning calm of the stable-yard and echoed back from the surrounding buildings. The three, tethered ponies re-acted to my pain-filled cries by fidgeting nervously and shuffling their feet. The other three overseers watched silently as Colton continued to beat me. Then as suddenly as he'd begun, Colton had finished as though his anger had been satiated. The four overseers stood silent for several moments and Claymore Jackson was the first to speak. "Colton, what was all that about? There seems to be a lot of anger at play with you?" "There is." Colton spat out the words. "Claymore, you have no idea for how long I have waited to do that." "Do what, Colton?" "Thrash the living daylights out of Lucien Barrois. I've wanted to do that ever since he was a snotty-nosed brat. How I hated having to kowtow to him. Old Jean-Claude and Henriette Barrois spoiled him rotten and denied him nothing. I've lost count of the number of times I had to bite my tongue when I'd rather tan his ass for him. Today, for the first time, I have been able to do just that. How satisfying that is." "Well you finally got that out of your system, Colton. And the way you tanned his ass - as you put it - I'm Rafe sure will be very sore for the foreseeable future." "I hope so Claymore. The young brat was always a pain in the ass. Just like the Maratier kid. I'd like to take my cane to his ass too." "Well, Colton, young Lucien might have been a pain in your ass. But now it is Rafe who has the pain in his ass. So you've evened the score. And you might need to temper your feelings towards young Etienne. I know how you feel. Conn feels very much as you do. So I'll give you the same advice I gave him. Be patient!" "I know! I know! But it is hard at times putting up with Guy and Etienne. And now it appears I'm to deal with the old girl as well. But tell me what is going to happen to Rafe now? Is he to work in the fields too?" "No, Colton. As you know he's to become a pony for Guy Maratier's use. We've built up his strength and cardio-vascular system on the water-wheel. Now he's to join a draft team to learn to pull and work in unison with them. This is important as he is to be paired with his Master's other pony. They are to work in tandem." "I see. Can I inspect him, Claymore?" "Of course you can, Colton." "Get to your feet boy and display!" Hastily I scrambled to my feet and stood at display in accordance with the major domo's instruction. Slowly he circled me before stopping just inches away from my face. He looked distastefully at me and wrinkled his nose in disgust. "You stink, boy!" I wasn't sure if I was meant to answer. Already that day, I'd answered unwisely to an overseer's remark and I didn't want to repeat that mistake and earn additional strokes of the whip for insolence and so I remained silent. "I said you stink, boy!" There was a tone in Colton's voice that warned me I must answer. My answer was brief but humbly worded and respectful in its deliverance. "Yes Boss! I stink, Sir!" I'd played doubly safe by referring to Colton as both "Boss" and "Sir". Sir is the usual honorific that La Fort's slaves use when answering or addressing their overseers and so Colton is entitled to be addressed as "Sir". But from my time as Lucien Barrois, I knew the house and garden slaves also referred to him as "Boss" a title he'd self-appropriated to differentiate him from the ordinary field overseers. As Lucien, I'd always known that Colton saw himself as standing several rungs above them and on an equal footing with Claymore Jackson but I'd not worried too much about that. As long as my home operated along the lines I demanded then I didn't care if Colton gave himself a few airs and graces. As I have said, Colton was an excellent major domo and I valued that too much to upset him over so trivial a matter as an honorific. But that day, I humbled myself and ingratiatingly, I called him "boss". My gamble paid off and whilst this seemed to please him, it didn't dissuade him from further abuse of me. "Yes you do, slave. You stink to high heaven. In fact, you're putrid!" "Yes Boss!" He turned from me and spoke to the three watching overseers. "How the mighty has fallen. It's almost impossible to recognise this sorry specimen as Lucien Barrois. He was always so fastidiously clean and now he's no better than a filthy animal." "Well I suppose in a way that is what he is." Claymore replied. "And he'll stay that way while he works in a team." "As Lucien, he showered twice a day," Colton continues, "and he used the most expensive soaps and deodorants. He only ever used a special blend of Sandalwood soap which was made to order for him. I know because it was one of my duties to ensure there was always a supply of the soap on hand. I always knew when he'd used it; I could smell it on the slave who'd showered with him. It was very subtle and very expensive. The Maratier trash only use the cheap, over-perfumed, propriety brand soaps one picks up in a general store. I'll say this for Lucien; he had impeccable taste. The Maratier's on the other hand, have absolutely no class or finesse." "Well it's a long time since Rafe has used soap let alone washed. Most probably he's not washed since he left the city. And it will be a few weeks yet before he's cleaned up and made ready for the final part of his pony training. "Is that true boy?" Colton asked. "When was the last time you washed?" "Boss! Sir Claymore is correct. I haven't washed since my Master brought me to La Fort." "Then it's no wonder you stink! I bet you'd love a long, hot shower and some Sandalwood soap to clean yourself with. And a soft, fluffy, white towel to use afterwards. Do you miss those things, boy?" Colton's questions were insensitive. In fact, they went beyond that; they were extremely cruel. Of course, I missed those things as surely as I missed all the other things that were once an accepted part of my former life. But all that had been taken from me and to remind of what I'd lost cut deep into my psyche. . I was bewildered by Colton's treatment of me. My ass throbbed from his beating of it and my feelings were lacerated by his callous comments and questions. But more hurtful than those were his comments of how much he'd hated me as the boy and later the man, Lucien Barrois. That, I didn't understand. He'd never shown his true feelings towards me until today. Until I was enslaved, I'd apparently lived in a cocoon of my own smugness insulated from the poor esteem with which I was now generally held by those around me. It's true, I wasn't the most gregarious person and I chose to live simply without any social pretensions. I much preferred to live the quiet, rural life of the country squire at my beloved La Fort rather than that of the powerful big city businessman and to leave the city to its own intrigues. But was that sufficient enough reason for people to hate me with so such vehemence. I'd never intentionally hurt another and yet the hurt that had been heaped on me would suggest that I was universally reviled. Lucien had never experienced any evidence of this hatred. Quite the contrary was true. People had sought him out and fawned over him and he'd wisely held them at arms' length. This was in accord with his grandfather's training of him. He'd been taught to be polite to all people, civil in his dealings with them and never to be abusive. Additionally, his grandfather had also impressed upon him to never take a person at face value and to probe deeper before giving his trust to another. Consequently, Lucien had many acquaintances and few true friends. And even those he'd considered were his friends and whom he'd loved as brothers had repudiated the slave, Rafe. Only one, Miles had shown me any kindness. As I thought on these things my heart grew heavy and tears welled in my eyes. That morning, as Colton taunted me, I was so alone. But Colton had asked me a question and I had to answer or be judged as insolent and wilful. "Yes Boss! I do miss those things. I miss them very much, Sir!" And there was much truth in my words. I did greatly miss all those things and much more. I missed my freedom but more than anything, I missed Norge. Colton continued to scrutinise me. As he did so he wrinkled his nose in exaggerated distaste to further humiliate me in the presence of his fellow overseers. And to emphasise his disgust at the state of my body, he used the handle of his driver's crop to pry my cock away from my balls and to lift it high for his visual inspection. His actions were a less than subtle hint that I was unclean and that he wouldn't soil his hands by touching my person. I suppose I should have been grateful that my condition prevented the major domo form giving me a hands' on inspection. Certainly, he used his crop to good effect as he I examined my genitals. Finally after much looking he delivered his verdict on me. "Claymore, if one looks beneath the dirt and grime coating the slave, one can see that he has an impressive body. He has a good solid build and well defined muscles. I suppose the water-wheel is partly responsible for that. Yes indeed, he's an impressive slave." "I think you're right, Colton. The water-wheel has made a big difference to Rafe. He's barely recognisable from the raw slave who first came to us just six weeks ago. His muscles are firmer and his lung capacity has increases enormously. And his legs and ass are those of a true pony. Yes, I have to say I'm pleased with his progress. But really, credit for his progress must go to young Conn's supervision. He worked Rafe on the wheel and never allowed him to slacken." "And six weeks working in a draft team will add to his fitness I should think. I imagine continually pulling a heavily loaded dray will benefit him no end." "Right, Colton! Rafe will learn to pull which will serve him well once he becomes a trained pony." "But it seems to me he falls down in one important area." "What's that, Colton?" The chief overseer's question reflected his curiosity. "He's not as well-endowed as I thought he'd be." Colton spoke contemptuously. In fact, his tackle is downright puny. I'd always imagined that Lucien Barrois would be well hung with a big cock and low hanging balls." "I suppose there is some truth in what you say, Colton. But I don't see that he's any more deficient than most white boys. To my mind they all fall down in that area. Anyway, I don't think Rafe is in the mood this morning to get it up." "I see he's been circumcised. It's a nice, neat job and a clean cut. Sometimes, done by an amateur, a skinning can be botched." "Guy Maratier told me he'd had a vet skin Rafe and that they'd not used the knife. He considered Rafe was too valuable to subject him to the trauma of the scalpel." Claymore Jackson speaks the truth. My Master did indeed spare me the scalpel and for that I am most grateful. When I'd first overheard my Master and Cato discussing my circumcision, I'd been terrified. Obviously, I knew what was involved - after all, I had l arranged for Norge to be done - and the prospect of my own skinning filled me with both horror and revulsion. How easy it is for a freeman to casually decide to have a slave so treated. Apart from the horrendous pain associated with circumcision by the scalpel and the aftershock, there is also the shame of having one's manhood vandalised. Removing the prepuce from a slave is a potent reminder to him that he is no longer a free man and is now to all intents and purposes a mere chattel. So the morning, just days into my slavery, when I was removed from my assigned labours and taken by Ben to the stables where Guy Maratier waited with the veterinarian, I feared the worst. As Ben led me by my neck chain into their presence, I was overcome with fear and fell to my knees and begged my Master to spare me. Gruffly, he ordered me to my feet and told me to remain silent. The veterinarian was also charged with examining me for any defects and it has to be said he was most thorough. Already, I had been examined by the court officials, Major Swanston, Simon Barrow and the odious slaver-dealer, Lionel Schuster and there had been an element of voyeurism in those inspections. But the vet's inspection of me was very different. It was cold, impersonal and he was completely detached. To him, I was no more than a dumb animal and he treated me as such. Not once did he speak to me. Whenever he required me to change position, he wordlessly posed my body to meet his needs. He manipulated my cock and balls and declared them to be in `good working order'. Then he bent me double and kicked my ankles apart before parting the cheeks of my ass to check me for any defects. He found me to be both sound and tight and told Master that I was a virgin. Dispassionately, he checked my ears, my eyes, my nostrils and finally my mouth. I gagged as he pinched my nostrils, forcing me to breathe through my mouth which made his examination of my teeth and the health of my tongue that much easier. All were declared to be in excellent shape. During his examination he commented to my Master about the condition of my body, offering suggestions and giving advice as to how I could be improved upon. He asked Master if I'd had my shots for influenza and tetanus and Master said these were given at the court on the day of my enslavement. The vet concurred. "Of course, I forgot it is now a requirement that the newly enslaved are immunised before they leave the courts' precinct. But he will need to be given his flu shots each year." Then he turned to real reason for his visit - my skinning. I listened in fascinated horror as he discussed with Master the two available methods of circumcision - the knife and the bloodless clamp. He outlined the advantages of both systems and as I listened I hoped earnestly that Master would choose the clamp over the scalpel. For his part, the vet left no doubt that he favoured the knife. In his words - yes it is messy but it is quick - and while there is pain and discomfort for the slave it is more humane. He boasted proudly that he'd never lost a slave to either the knife or any infection. Under Guy Maratier's questioning, the veterinarian grudgingly conceded that there is less trauma caused to the slave by using the clamp. True, there is some suffering for the slave as the clamp slowly strangles the prepuce but once the nerves are `dead', the pain ceases and then it is simply a matter of waiting - usually from seven to twelve days -for the dead foreskin to fall off. After much discussion, Master instructed the vet to use the clamp method. But this wasn't done out of consideration for me or to save me from suffering. The reasons for his decision were far more pragmatic. The vet conceded that sometimes, the knife can incapacitate a slave and prevent him from working for several days. Guy Maratier wasn't prepared to allow me the luxury of any time away from my labours as I convalesced. And so, to my intense relief, the vet fitted me with a clamp. The procedure was quick and without pain. But there was some resultant pain as the clamp cut off the blood supply and strangled the superfluous flesh. After that, there wasn't any pain and I simply waited for the atrophied flesh to fall away. And I was left with a red cicatrise encircling the shaft of my cock to show where once I'd possessed a foreskin. Colton drew attention to it by his reference to my skinning as `a nice, neat job and a clean cut'. And he used that to taunt me even further. "Tell me boy! What do you think old Jean-Claude Barrois would make of you being skinned?" The mention of my grandfather wounded me deeply. Colton knew of our close attachment and his question rubbed salt into a raw wound. My grandfather would have been heartbroken at what had befallen me and I was glad that he'd not lived to see me as a naked slave and his proud name sullied by my shameful birth. "Boss, my grandfather would have been heartbroken at what has happened to me. I am just glad that he didn't live to see me as a slave." I was unprepared for Colton's stinging slap to my face or the vehemence of his words. "You forget yourself boy! Jean-Claude was never your grandfather. You were slave-born and never entitled to regard him as a relation. The fact that his son sired you with a slave woman doesn't allow you to claim any kinship to the Barrois family. How dare you?" The truth of Colton's words cut deep. How he must have hated me for all the long years he'd known me as Lucien Barrois. And yet somehow, in his repudiation of me, I detected a measure of support for the Barrois family. And it wasn't just my imagination as Claymore picked up on it too. "Colton, you sound as though you have some sympathy for old Jean-Claude. Am I reading you right?" "Indeed you are, Claymore. I liked Jean-Claude and Henriette. They were civilised and treated me like I mattered to them. They never spoke down to me. Not like these new Maratier upstarts. " "I agree with you and I share your regard for both Jean-Claude and his wife. But I fear we are out of step with community feeling. Everybody now hates the Barrois name with such intensity." "Well, what would the community know?" Colton snorts in indignation. "They never knew them as we did. We knew them as a very genuine, likeable couple." "Colton, I have to agree with Rafe. I'm glad that neither of them lived to see their proud name disgraced and him enslaved. I think the shock of both would have destroyed them." "Well, they did wrong in presenting Lucien as their grandson and heir - I won't argue that. But I believe they were victims of circumstance. Lucien was the progeny of a slave woman but he was sired by their only son and they desperately wanted a grandchild. The pity is that the slave woman conceived. It would have been better for all concerned if Lucien had never existed." Colton didn't know how his words resonated with me. If Lucien had never been born then Rafe, the slave wouldn't exist. How I wished that was so. But I was gladdened to hear of the affection that both Claymore and Colton still felt for my beloved grandparents. It spoke well of them that they were still held in high esteem by their two senior overseers. I whisper my heartfelt gratitude to both Colton and Claymore for publicly declaring their true feelings. I loved my grandparents with such passion and the hardest part of my slavery to date had been to stand mute as they were reviled by everyone. I knew that I was blameless in all of this - if blame needed to be apportioned then it should be heaped onto the head of my sire, Phillipe Barrois. The guilt was his and for a few lustful moments of carnal pleasure, I and my grandparents have paid a terrible price. "So what is to happen to Rafe now?" Colton's question changed the subject and vocalised my thoughts and I listened as Claymore answered. "Well shortly Regis and Conn will take him out into the fields and place him in a team of drafts. I'm not sure what he'll actually be pulling. It could be delivering grain into the mill. Or it could be carting hay into the sheds. I'll leave that to Regis to decide." "Could I make a suggestion, Claymore?" "Certainly! What is it Colton?" "Why not have him placed in the team that is to fetch the gravel to the gardens. As you know it is quite a distance to the quarries and it would be good training for Rafe to having to haul a heavy load all the way back here. It'd really test him. What do you think?" "Colton, I think it's a great idea. I'm sure we can arrange that can't we Regis?" "Of course we can Claymore. That won't be a problem. I'll organise it myself. And I think Conn here is more that capable of supervising the team. That's so isn't it, Conn?" "Yes, I can do that. No problem." "Well then that's settled, Colton. You have your team and they'll begin first thing tomorrow morning under Conn's supervision. You can liaise with him." Thank you, Claymore. And thank you Regis and Conn. You have taken quite a load of my shoulders." "Colton, you worried too much. No problem is insurmountable. We'll have the gravel spread over the pathways long before Guy Maratier's next visit." "That is a relief. Thank you all so much. So what happens now? Do you take Rafe out to the fields to begin work?" "Yes! But first he is to be whipped." "You mentioned this before. Why? What did he do to earn a whipping?" "He was disrespectful to Regis and he is to receive five strokes of the whip." "Is that all? Only five strokes for such an offence? You're treating him leniently. If I had charge of him I'd string up in the `yard' and flog him soundly. But it's your call, Claymore. Do you mind if I stay and watch?" "No, not at all, Colton. You're most welcome to watch. Regis, I suggest we get on with it." "Claymore, haven't you forgotten something? There was just a hint of mischief in Claymore's reply to Regis's question. The question and its answer were obvious even to me. Who was to whip me? Would it to be Sir Regis or Sir Conn? "Have I? What have I forgotten Regis?" "Which of us is to whip the slave? Is it me? Or is it Conn?" "OH, that! I forgot I haven't told you who won the toss. And..., the winner is," There was a longish pause before Claymore announced in a loud voice, "............. REGIS." I stole a glance at Sir Conn and I saw the look of disappointment in his eyes. Did he really want to whip me that much? But then I reminded myself that I was his `slave' and that he had control over me. But my offence was against Sir Regis and so I supposed there was a sense of justice in that he was the one to punish me. Claymore saw Sir Conn's disappointment and offered him a consolation prize. "Conn, would you do the honours and fasten Rafe to the whipping post?" As Sir Conn prepared to lead me over to the whipping post, I lose my composure and I begin to beg for mercy. Once more, I kneel before Sir Regis and apologise to him. "Sir, my answer was a slip of the tongue. I meant you no disrespect. I'm truly sorry Sir. Please don't whip me. Forgive me please." My pleas fell on deaf ears and they were ignored. For my troubles, I earned the contempt of my former major domo, Colton. Sneeringly, he commented. "It's hard to believe that the slave grovelling at Regis's feet was once the high and mighty Lucien Barrois." Colton's words were a circuit-breaker for my emotions and his contempt a catalyst for recovering a little of my self-esteem. Suddenly, the picture of me grovelling at the feet of the four overseers filled me with disgust at my actions. Colton was correct; it was hard to equate the miserable, wretch pleading for leniency - leniency that he knew wouldn't be given - with the once proud man I had been. The realisation of this overwhelmed me with self-loathing and I drew on some deep- seated, inner strength that I was unaware of. Temporarily, I regained something of the manhood that had been taken from me at my enslavement and I determined to accept my punishment if not with eagerness then at least with dignity. I scrambled to my feet and waited and as I did so I looked towards the whipping post which stood ominously in the middle of the stable-yard. Its construction - a stout, tree trunk buried deep in the ground to give it stability and rising some nine to ten feet in height - was simple and yet there was an air of sinister foreboding about it. Its surface had been worn to shining smoothness by the friction of so many naked bodies writhing in its strong embrace and it surface was darkened by the fear induced sweat of its countless, hapless victims. And the cobblestones around its base were stained by the blood and urine of those same victims. As Sir Conn led me the few, short steps to the post, I tried to walk tall in my new found courage. But my body was wracked by my fear and I trembled violently. My overriding concern was that my legs would fail me and I would collapse to the ground thus inviting further scorn and ridicule from Colton. However, this didn't happen and there was a grim ritual yet to be played out before my whipping. Sir Conn positioned me with my body pressed close to the surface of the post. I was surprised to find the post felt marble-cold against my chest and belly and a chill of apprehensive fear rippled through me. I responded to his order to raise my arms above my head as my wrists were bound together and the rope pulled through a pulley to stretch my body to its fullest height. Claymore Jackson approached me and ran his hands down over my upper body testing for its tautness. I was well aware that the whipping of a slave was a regular feature of life at La Fort, yet I was unaware of the preparations in making the victim ready. I'd always thought it was simply a matter of tying the slave to the whipping-post and applying the whip to his back. However, Claymore's comments proved me wrong. "Conn, would you please pull down on the rope? We need to stretch him further yet. Of course, you're not to know but it's important to have the slave just right for his whipping. Stretching his arms high above his head centres his weight in the region of the shoulders. And you need to have his feet barely touching the ground with him standing on his tiptoes. That way the skin on his back is stretched tight and makes the pain more acute. So be a good lad and pull down on the rope." I grunted as my arms were pulled even higher above my head and to ease the tension I raised myself onto the tips of my toes. And Claymore was correct. I did feel the stretching in my back and I had every reason to believe the part of his statement that said I would feel the whip's pain more acutely. I couldn't begin to describe my feelings. I knew that my punishment was to be a light one - it was merely a whipping and not a flogging - and that I'd been dealt with very leniently. Nevertheless, as I waited on Sir Regis, the thought uppermost in my mind was of my utter helplessness. I was fastened to the post in such a way that I knew I couldn't move away from the lash as it laid itself across my back and that my body would absorb the whip's full impact. There was something primeval about the way I was prepared for my whipping. The callous indifference of the four overseers shocked me. That one man had the absolute power to inflict such degradation and suffering on another overwhelmed me with its awfulness. As Lucien, I had been the reluctant spectator of such whippings. That day, as the slave Rafe, I was the hapless victim of the brutality of a very public one. Once more, Claymore ran his hands down over my torso to my ass and declared me ready. Fearfully, I turned my head to look back over my shoulder: I watched as Sir Regis unclipped his whip from his belt and with a deft flick of the wrist, he uncoiled it across the cobblestoned surface of the yard. Momentarily, he let it rest there like a sinuous black snake - a snake whose venom I was soon to feel - before he snapped it into life. I heard the whip's sibilant hiss and crack as Sir Regis exercised his whipping arm. Time stood still and I listened as he limbered up. With each loud crack I was convinced that the whip would find its mark on my exposed back. Involuntarily, I flinched in anticipation and at one stage I even cried out. As I waited for the first blow, my chest heaved from my ragged breathing and my stomach muscles knotted up with fear. My belly turned to water and shamefully, my bladder emptied itself against the whipping-post and my piss pooled around my feet. I hung suspended in a limbo of fearful expectation and uncertainty. The seconds passed with inexorable slowness; with each crack of the whip I braced my body for the cruel bite of the lash on my naked back only to heave a great sigh of relief when it failed to materialise. Behind me I heard the gentle hiss of the whip and felt its cooling caress on my flesh as it stopped just short of making contact with my back. I knew that Sir Regis was playing a cruel game with my raw emotions. I feared the whip and yet surely its pain was more preferable than the torment of the cat and mouse game he played with me. As he toyed with me, Sir Regis played havoc with my fraught nerves. I lost count of the number of times I prepared my mind for the whip's bite only to have it not materialise. Then, behind me I heard the whip and its sound was ominously different. The whip's sibilant hiss had become a fearful whine as it travelled through the resistant air. Instinctively, I knew, this time, it would make contact with my body and I braced myself. And as best as I could I prepared my mind for the resultant pain. My wait was interminably long! And then, I heard the loud, distinctive `thwack' as leather struck naked flesh. And the naked flesh was mine. There was a brief interlude between the actuality of the whip falling across my shoulders and the reality of the pain I suffered. Then, suddenly that pain exploded throughout my body. Unless you feel the whip for yourself, it is hard to actually describe its pain and I suppose the experience of that pain can vary from victim to victim. Some would be better equipped to deal with it than others. But I would think its intensity remains the same for all. In the past, I have seen various re-actions from slaves as they were whipped. Some younger slaves cried for their parents while others vainly begged for mercy. Most slaves were resigned to their fate and simply accepted the inevitability of their punishments. But sometimes, older hands would adopt an attitude that bordered on boastful defiance; bragging to their fellow slaves that the lash held no particular fear for them. How wrong they were! From my observations, all slaves break under the lash. That is inevitable and the only question is how soon will a slave surrender to his pain and vocalise his torment. I have seen slaves stoically suffer with no more than a series of grunts until the pain becomes too much for them to bear in silence. In reality, I suppose it's a slave's strength and resolve that determines when he cries out. And to my shame, I cried at the first stroke of the whip and with each of the following four. To my mind, the pain of the whip was akin to having a keen edged knife, superheated in the red-hot coals of a brazier, cut into my flesh. Well that is how it seemed to me and I was sure that my shoulders had been lacerated and that the sweat I could feel trickling down my back was, in fact, my blood. But I was wrong. Sir Regis was aware that my Master had said there was to be no lasting damage done to me and so he'd held back ensuring that my skin wasn't broken. He'd started at my shoulders and very carefully, he laid each subsequent stroke lower down on my back so that they ran parallel to each other and didn't intersect. Time stood still and was measured by the presence of the whip's searing pain or the dull ache as I waited for the lash to fall once more. My back was aflame with my torment and detachedly, I could hear my incoherent babbling and pleas for mercy. Futilely, I sought relief in my wild writhing but I found that once secured to the post there is no escape. Behind me I heard Sir Conn - I think it was he - count out the strokes. "One"..." Two"..... What an eternity there was between each stroke ... "Three" ... would the pain never end? ..." Four".... mercifully one more to go ...."Five." At last my whipping was over. My body sagged as far as the rope binding me to the post allowed and I sobbed incoherently both from my pain and my shame. I had been publicly whipped and that was indelibly imprinted into my consciousness. Within days, the angry red stripes on my back would fade and disappear but the pain and the humiliation - like that of my first caning - will stay with me forever. Once more, Claymore Jackson inspected me. I winced as his hands moved over my back. "Good! There's no lasting damage done. I'm sure the slave has learned his lesson. Isn't that so, boy?" Through my tears and pain I managed to blurt out. "Yes Sir!" "Yes Sir, what?" "Yes Sir, I have learned my lesson." "And what did it teach you?" "Sir, that I must always be respectful to my overseers." "Good boy, Rafe! Then your punishment has served its purpose. It's taught you to be a better slave." Acting on the chief overseers orders, Sir Conn unfastened the rope and lowered my arms before untying my wrists. Subdued - no, it was more than that for I was now totally subjugated - I awaited instructions. But I was ignored as the four overseers conversed briefly. Their business at the stables concluded, it was obvious that both Claymore and Colton were anxious to return to their duties; Claymore to depart on his round of inspections and Colton to return to his supervision of the house and garden slaves. In my misery, I looked to where the three ponies were tethered. It was obvious from their nervous fidgeting and shuffling of feet that my whipping had unsettled them. I was aware that Jake was looking in my direction and I could see his concern for me reflected in his face. Claymore and Colton bade farewell to both Sir Regis and Sir Conn and I watched as they climbed into their r respective traps. Suddenly, Claymore's shouted instruction startled me into action. "Rafe, get over here and untether the ponies. C'mon, Move your sorry ass!" I ran to obey and quickly untethered Colton's pony first. As I did do, I looked into his eyes and saw his despair. He'd barely recovered from the inhuman run from the house to the stables and now he was to carry the major domo back to the house at a similar break neck pace. I'd barely handed the reins to Colton before he slashed his whip across the pony's rump with the imperious order to "Giddup!" Even before they were out of the stable-yard, the wretched pony felt the sting of the whip on his ass and shoulders twice more. Next, I moved to untether Jake. As I did so, he looked straight at me and smiled encouragingly; his eyes mirrored his sorrow at my suffering. That took me by surprise as I didn't know that Jake had any regard for me. Quite the contrary; I saw him as a rival for Norge's affections and I assumed he saw me in the same light. But his smile was warm and friendly and it gave me encouragement. I smiled back and my eyes misted over. Jake was extending his friendship to me and I realised that we had something in common that surely bound us together. We both loved Norge. I handed Jake's reins to Claymore Jackson and stepped back to allow him to depart. But he had one more admonishment for me before he left. "Rafe! Remember you are to behave yourself and do as you're told or you'll get another whipping. And next time you won't get off so lightly. It'll be ten strokes. And remember to be respectful to all your overseers at all times. Do you understand what I'm saying to you, boy?" "Yes Sir! I understand Sir! And I'll behave myself, Sir!" "Good boy! And remember to work hard for your Master." "Yes Sir! I'll will, Sir!" I watched as Jake moved out of the yard at a much more leisurely pace than Colton's pony. I didn't realise that Claymore viewed his pony with a degree of affection and that normally he would never abuse Jake in the same way as Colton did with his pony. Claymore was more humane in his attitudes towards his pony; as long Jake carried out his driver's commands and gave of his best then he'd be well treated. I stood alongside of Honky and waited on the two overseers. Sir Regis was the first to speak. "OK, Conn! It's time we moved Rafe out to the fields. If you'll fasten him to the shafts we'll be on our way. But we have a stop to make first. It's time for you to get to know Honky and for me to introduce myself to Rafe. I know just the spot under some shady trees where we'll be out of sight and out of mind. How does that sound?" "That sounds good to me, Regis. I'm up for it if you are." "Am I up for it?" Sir Regis laughed. "Conn, my pony is kicking at the stable door .... And I'm not talking about Honky. Let's go." To be continued.....................

DUPED Chapter 8 The Six Waiters This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): January, 2013 Read all my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas in this story are purely fictitious and belong to the writer. They shouldn't be used without his permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures." Chapter 8: The Six Waiters It's been a long sleepless night spent in a slave -pen with Mustapha's six waiter slaves. Like me all are naked and much stressed. After their arrival in Maluchistan, they'd been brought straight from the airport to the slave-market. Once there, they'd been stripped naked, body shaved and placed in this pen. Now all seven of us await our ultimate fates; we are to be sold at auction two days from now. Around me, locked in identical pens, are another twenty-seven slaves who are to share in our fate. Apart from our naked, hairless bodies we have a number of things in common. Foremost among these is that, without exception, we are all young and perfect, physical specimens of the Caucasian race. That of course, is the main reason for our presence in these slave-pens; this market deals exclusively in prime, white, male slaves who are destined to become the servants and sexual playthings of either Arab or Black African masters. We are an eclectic lot and later, speaking to my brothers in bondage, I will learn we are from many places. Among the six waiters are young men from Germany, Ireland, the UK, the USA, Russia and South Africa. Unlike me, none of them were duped into slavery by a wily and cunning Arab posing as a friend; rather all six were "gathered up" - a euphemism used by the slavers to describe their nefarious activities - and consigned to Malik's slave-market in Maluchistan. All six waiters tell me they are familiar with this place. Just twelve months ago, they were kidnapped and consigned here and sold to Mustapha. Once purchased, they'd been placed under the control Mustapha's two sons, Hussein and Omar and forced to work in the kitchens of his London restaurant. Here they worked helping to prepare the food for the specialist chef and his two apprentices - all three of whom were Arabs - and made to serve as general kitchen hands. The three Arabs chefs had complete mastery over them and ruled them with rods of iron. The kitchen was equipped with a variety of rattan canes, leathers straps and wooden paddles which were frequently used to discipline them and to hurry them along in their duties. They were housed on the premises in a windowless dormitory just under the roof. Each night, they and the six waiters were stripped naked, fitted with shackles and chained to ringbolts securely fastened into strong beams and for bedding each had a straw filled hessian mattress and one blanket to keep him warm. Altogether they served for twelve months under the stern discipline of Mustapha and his two sons. Their lives as Mustapha's slaves had consisted of unremitting hard labour and harsh punishments. Such personal milestones as birthdays and the main Western festivals were no longer observed. As slaves these things served as a distraction to their main duties of working and adding to their Master's fortunes. At the end of the first six months, they graduated to the dining-room where they served as waiters while newly acquired slaves took their places in the kitchen. Now, in line with Mustapha's policy of introducing "new faces" into his restaurant every six months, they are to be sold. All six are anxious about their future prospects and extremely fearful of their new owners. I am aware of their anxiety and this feeds my own uncertainty and fear. But truthfully, I am too traumatized to be overly concerned with their fates. My own future weighs heavily on my mind and the changed circumstances of my life leave me feeling most vulnerable. My new, unaccustomed nakedness feeds my sense of worthlessness and the blistering brand on my left flank throbs with painful intensity and is a constant reminder of yesterday's events. My feverish night had been restless and sleep for the most part had eluded me. All around me I'd listened to the sad sounds of my fellow slaves; I heard their snoring, their coughing, their farting and their pitiful whimpering in their sleep as they nostalgically dreamt of families and loved ones from whom they'd been cruelly parted. I listened as, in their sleep, they implored absent mothers and fathers to come and set them free. Their sad dreams have been replaced by hideous nightmares that now condemn them to live out their days in vile slavery. Eventually, I'd drifted into a fitful sleep and I only awoke as dawn's first light pierced the gloom of my prison. I'd awoken and momentarily thought all was well with me. At first, I imagined I was back in my London apartment sleeping between soft, finely spun, cotton sheets in my bedroom overlooking the Thames River. As I drowsily stretched to ease my sleep-cramped limbs, the straw bedding prickled my nakedness and I'd been startled into full wakefulness. Then, the full horror of my situation returned. Mustapha's six slaves are already awake and one is straddling the sewage drain to relieve his overfull bladder. There's no privacy afforded him and he pisses in full sight of his fellow slaves; I watch in dismay knowing that I must soon join him in so public a display that will show me there is no false modesty for a slave. My own bladder is full to capacity but before I can empty it, I will have to wait until my usual, early morning erection subsides. Embarrassed by my raging "hard-on", I try to cover it, as best I can behind my cupped hands. But then I notice some of my cellmates also sport erections that, at the very least rival my own and that they show no signs of shame. Of course, they have been slaves for far longer than me - for twelve months whereas I have been a slave for less than twenty-four hours - and so they are more "at ease" with their bodies than I am. It occurs to me that I must now adjust my mindset to that of my fellow slaves. Total slave nakedness is to be my permanent state and I must now learn to display my nude body with the same nonchalance as they do. All about me, the unhappy inmates of the other pens stir into wakefulness and begin to robotically pace around the perimeters of their cells - as though waiting for something to happen - or to listlessly stare out through the bars into the gloomy passageway which bisects the slave-holding pens. It's true to say I have never felt as alone or as vulnerable as I do. My sense of betrayal at Anwar's hands is uppermost in my thoughts and it feeds the mounting panic that I feel. What new horrors will today bring? Surely, nothing can surpass yesterday's happenings? In despair, I look at my cellmates and for the first time I get to appraise them. Previously, I'd seen them dressed as waiters in Mustapha's London restaurant and while their clothing hadn't completely obscured their muscular physiques, I'm now able to see - and appreciate - them in all their naked glory. They are a very mixed bunch and their facial features tell me they are representative of several races; some are thin faced with aquiline noses while others have the broader countenances of the Slavic race. But all are incredibly handsome and were obviously handpicked for slavery for their masculine, good looks and strong, muscular bodies. Their cropped hair colours also vary from lustrous black through varying shades of brown to the silver- gold, finely spun, silky hair of the Slav. One in particular stands out; he is the tow haired slave who'd had his ass enthusiastically groped by Mustapha during my first ever visit to his restaurant with Anwar some months ago. It seems improbable that it's only three months or so since that fateful, first night when Anwar had demonstrated chattel slavery for the very first time by exposing me to these six young men and later taking me to his home where I'd encountered his slave, Sven. Then, I'd been flattered by Anwar's attention; now I recognize it as a cunning ploy to ensnare me into my own slavery. Improbable as that may seem, the reality is that, like them, I am now a naked slave about to be sold at auction to the highest bidder. My sense of awful loneliness is palpable and I am overwhelmed by self-pity. At first, my eyes merely brim with tears of self-pity but then the fearful reality of my situation hits home and I sit in a corner of the pen where I draw up my knees, hug them to my chest and bury my face in my folded arms. As my silent sobs convulse my trembling body and with my head bowed, I don't notice, the tow haired slave detach himself from his companions and sit at my side. I am suddenly aware of a comforting arm being placed across my heaving shoulders and I hear a sympathetic voice tell me. "Hi, I'm Finbar! It's best to cry it out and get it out of your system. Until you do, you can't move on." Finbar speaks with a lilting Irish brogue and the feel of his arm resting over my shoulder is cathartic. Suddenly, the floodgates of my emotions burst open and like an incoherent torrent, my words just tumble out. I'm not aware of what I am saying; all I know is that for the first time since my enslavement someone is showing compassion to me. And I am so grateful! So great is my need for even a small measure of kindness, that I turn and take Finbar in a firm embrace. His powerful arms encircle me and I snuggle my head against his broad chest. I feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing and the strong, rhythmic beating of his heart and in both, there is solace for me! I'm not sure for how long we remain in this tight embrace. Probably just minutes although it does seem much longer. The physical contact with Finbar is therapeutic. He calms me by soothingly stroking my back much as one does with a frightened animal and I respond to his ministrations by resting my head against the warm hardness of his chest. I drink in the manly smell of his body and as my tears subside I find myself being aroused by his nearness. He disentangles our embrace and taking my head in his strong hands, he positions it so that we have eye to eye contact. His handsome face is wreathed in a broad, welcoming smile and his blue eyes twinkle as I reach out and touch his stubbled chin. He asks my name. "Okay, I've told you my name, now tell me yours?" "Matthew!" I blurt out. "It's Matthew but my friends call me Matt." "Then I'll call you Matt too. Actually, the other guys," and he gesticulates towards the other five slaves, "find Finbar a bit of a mouthful and so they call me Fin. You can too if you like." "Thanks Fin, I'd like that." And I smile for the first time since yesterday's grim happenings. But there is something so immensely likeable about Fin that inspires my confidence and is giving me strength. "So Matt. Let me introduce you to the other guys." We disentangle and climb to our feet and for the next few minutes Fin introduces me to my brothers in misfortune. I learn that they are indeed "multi-national". There is Andrew from Alabama, Holger from Cologne, Mark from Manchester, Sergei from St Petersburg and Wickus an Afrikaner from Johannesburg. They are indeed the international face of Arab slavery and I have joined their unhappy group. All six of the former waiter slaves are down to earth and immensely likeable. Their slave's nakedness doesn't trouble them as they move unselfconsciously around our pen and my initial shame at my nakedness dissipates as I realize they are unaffected by it. I am learning that nudity is a slave's natural state and I need have no sense of embarrassment at my own nakedness. And to be truthful, I find their presence to be powerfully erotic. As I look at their hairless bodies I can, without any guilt, appreciate their good looks, superb physiques and generous genitalia which are on prominent display. And of course, they all have the delightfully curvaceous asses which are much appreciated by our Arab masters. And strangely, I have a sense of satisfaction and pleasure in knowing that my own body is considered by Malik, the slave-dealer, to be at least the equal of these prime slaves. As I look at them, I realize that I am in good company. My companions ply me with questions about my background and how I have become a slave. They listen sympathetically as I tell them about Anwar's duplicity and of how he'd "befriended" then cruelly duped me and brought me to Maluchistan under false pretences and how less than twenty-four hours ago he'd enslaved me. In turn, I listen to how they'd become slaves. In all instances their tales are distressing and bitterly I reflect on the deviousness of the Arab mind. They'd been gathered up off the streets or in clubs and found themselves consigned to the Middle-east and Malik's slave-market. I'd forgotten that this process isn't new to them. They'd previously been held in these pens and just twelve months ago, they stood on the auction-block as they were sold to Mustapha. Questions tumble through my mind. I have so many to ask and I need answers. My first question is how they can remain so cheerful under the heavy burden of their slavery. It is Andrew who answers. "Matt, it's because we have no other choice but to accept that we are slaves! " His answer is direct and very succinct. I suspect he is telling me that I must do the same and I ask. "But, how do you adjust to becoming a slave?" "Matt, I'll admit that, at first, it is hard." Andrew replies. "The first few days of my slavery were traumatic as they will be for you, Matt. But keep in mind that you are now a slave and that you'll never be set free. From now on you'll always be just property that belongs to another. You have to make the most of your situation and make it work to your advantage." "You mean that I am Anwar's property?" My voice reflects my bitterness and my words are more of a statement of the reality of my situation than an answer. "Exactly, Matt! Today you belong to him," it is Fin who answers, "but on Saturday, you'll have a new master just like the rest of us." "Look guys, it's true that Matt has some adjusting to do," Mark speaks with a pronounced Mancurian accent, "but he's got more immediate problems to deal with, hasn't he?" "What are they?" I ask. "Well, you have to get through the next few days leading up to the auction." Mark continues. "Beginning today, most likely you'll be inspected - perhaps even taken for a test fuck by a prospective buyer - and then there's the actual sale itself for you to deal with. Perhaps it would be better if we tell Matt what will happen today." "I think you are right, Mark." Fin agrees. "It would be better if we tell Matt what will happen today. That way, he'll be prepared." We gather in a rough circle - and I draw strength from my new friends - as they outline the monotonous, never-changing routine of the slave-pens. Soon, they tell me, the overseers will feed us our morning food ration of gruel, black bread and dates. One of them - I'm not sure who - jokingly tells me of the laxative effects of this diet on our bowels. Then after we have eaten, the occupants of each cell are taken to the ablution block where they are shaved, showered before being douched out, lubricated and made ready for any close quarter encounters with a prospective buyer. Fin warns me that this will probably happen to me and I recall Malik's words to my Master that I am to me inspected by two prospective buyers today. And yet the prospect of an enema at the hands of our overseers is daunting and I express my disquiet at the prospect. But Holger, speaking in German, tells me. "My friend, I can assure you after you've had a nozzle shoved up your ass and your rectum pumped full of warm, soapy water three times, you'll be glad when it's a real cock that' s stuffing you." I guess to be forewarned is to be forearmed! And it's not as though I'm unused to being fucked. Mostly, in the past, it had been by mutual consent between two willing partners. However, yesterday afternoon, I'd been slave raped by my Master, Anwar and common sense tells me that is to be the pattern of my future life as a slave. Undoubtedly, I will be bought as a sex slave and my new Master will use my body as a receptacle for his lust; that will be my primary role to provide my Master with pleasure. Despite my revulsion and overall fear of slavery, I had felt a frisson of excitement as I'd submitted to Anwar. Although a contradiction in terms, I was both repulsed and elated as he'd fucked me. The free man in me rebelled at the thought that I was another man's slave - his sex toy - and yet, at the same time, I'd felt strangely liberated. It seemed to me that the "slave within" had been finally liberated and I was being true to my real nature. I'd even felt gratitude to Anwar! As he thrust deeper into me, I realized that he'd been correct about his assumption that I was at heart a slave and that he was rendering me a great service by enslaving me. Lying on my back and looking up into his face, I understood that all he'd said was true. I am a slave and my true destiny is to serve a powerful Master. Nevertheless, I remain afraid and listen very carefully to what Fin and the other five tell me. I understand from my fellow slaves that after we have been shaved, showered, cleaned out and lubricated, we'll be returned to our cell to wait until a prospective buyer might decide to test-run one of us in a viewing-room. Fin tells me what inevitably will happen; some privileged buyers will visit the pens for a pre-sale viewing of the available livestock. When this happened it is expected that all the slaves will walk to the front of their pens and press their bodies hard up against the bars thus making them accessible to the buyers' hands. Should a buyer show physical interest in me by reaching through the bars to touch my body, then I must thrust my cock and balls through the bars as an invitation to him to inspect me further. And I am told that it is even permissible for me to plead with the buyer to finger my genitals or to inspect my ass. It is Holger who tells me that it is all about self-promotion; I need to "sell myself" to a buyer by appearing eager to please him and to have him own me. This way, I can possibly influence who finally buys me. I find the notion of promoting myself to a buyer and virtually begging him to buy me as distasteful. Yet, I understand that the six waiters speak from personal experience. Their twelve months spent as slaves has given them a cunning that has enabled them to survive. They have learned through bitter experience and they now share that with me. I am most grateful to them. By now, my tumescence has subsided and I am ready to relieve my overtaxed bladder. Thankfully, Andrew and Wickus need to piss and I join them, straddled legged, over the sewer drain without any sense of embarrassment. I have overcome my initial reluctance at performing my bodily functions so publicly and from now on I won't have any second thoughts. Suddenly, the Arab overseers, who'd prepared me yesterday, entered the pens with our first meal for the day. They are accompanied by four slave assistants who stagger under the weight of a large metal pot and baskets which contain our meal of a porridge-like gruel, unleavened black bread and dried dates. These slaves are all white but are past their prime. I estimate their ages as somewhere in the late thirties to the mid-forties. It is hard to judge as they are all uniform in their appearance with their naked, putty-white, hairless bodies and shaved, bald heads. They wear heavy, metal collars around their necks with matching ones around their cocks and balls. If I could read Arabic, I`d see the inscriptions engraved into the collars declare them to be the "Property of the House of Malik". And showing vividly red against the whiteness of their asses is the ubiquitous slave brand identical to the one I now wear. As one, the occupants of the pens crowd to the front of their prisons; they press up hard against the bars and hold out their arms almost in supplication. Each is given a wooden bowl of food and they retreat back into the sanctuary of the pen and sit quietly as they eat. I take my lead from the six waiters and stand against the bars with my outstretched arms silently begging for food. Suddenly, I realize how hungry I am; my last meal was breakfast at my hotel yesterday morning and I'd not eaten since then. I am ravenous and my belly is rumbling from my hunger pangs. Gratefully, I take my bowl of gruel, my ration of bread and dates and using my fingers - for I have no eating utensils - I hungrily devour them within minutes. It goes part way to satisfying my hunger but I want more and hold my bowl out through the bars and plead for an extra ration. My action infuriates an overseer who uses the handle of his whip to knock the bowl from my hands. As it clatters noisily against the stone floor, he abuses me in Arabic. I don't know the meaning of his words but their intent is clear. I'm not to be given any extra food and my impertinence has angered him. After, we have eaten and the bowls collected from us, we are allowed a few minutes to attend to the "calls of nature" before we are systematically removed from our cells and taken to the ablution room. Of course, I have an interest in watching as the slaves are ordered from their cells, lined up one behind the other and chained together at the neck before they are driven away under the whips to be made ready for inspection. Naturally, I am apprehensive and my six companions sense this. They re-assure me that no harm will come to us. But Fin does warn me there'll be some discomfort as I am given my enema. He tells me "not to fight the nozzle; to relax my muscles and to allow it to enter easily into me and all will be well." I'm about to learn that an enema is to become routine for me; eventually, it will become part of the daily ritual of being a pleasure slave. Working quickly and efficiently, the occupants from each pen are taken away, made ready and returned. All too soon, an overseer unlocks the door to our pen and we are ordered out into the walkway between the two lines of cells. We are made to line up one behind the other and I find myself chained between Finbar and Andrew. The walk to the ablution block is no more than thirty shuffling steps from our pen as the overseers shout and crack their whips over our heads and shoulders to move us forward into the ablution room. I use the term ablution loosely; the room itself is utilitarian in appearance and its walls and floor are covered in dirty, once-white - but what are now grimy-grey tiles .The walls appear to be perpetually damp and covered with mildew and protruding from the ceiling are a series of rust encrusted shower heads which drip continuously. Set in the floor are a row of sinkhole latrines which stink to high heaven. The foul-smelling air in the room is throat-retching and only adds to my overall apprehension. Working under the fussy direction of the Arab overseers, the slave assistants go about their duties with astonishing proficiency and speed. It is obvious they have performed these tasks many times before and the angry crisscrossed pattern of stripes on their backs indicates they have been well trained in their duties. The slave assistants quickly use their razors to shave our beards; it's one of Malik's prerequisites that his slaves are clean shaven before being placed on display. Then, the razors are used to shave the stubble in our armpits, our pubes and on our limbs. Particular attention is paid to our ass-cracks and any spare hairs are quickly removed. Although in my case this is unnecessary as it is less than twenty-four hours since I was body-shaved from head to toe. Then, still standing in our line, our finger and toe nails are examined and trimmed if necessary. And as the slaves work on our bodies, the Arabs give us sprigs of mint to chew to sweeten out breath so that we won't offend any prospective buyers who wishes to examine us. Finally, we are released from our neck chain. It is now time for our enemas! Like the other six slaves, I'm ordered to bend at the waist and grab hold of my ankles to hold me steady. Nervously, I turn my head to watch as slave attendant retrieves a hose attached to a rubber bag and walks behind me. I grunt as a cold nozzle is pressed hard up against my resisting anus and then I groan loudly as it is pushed unceremoniously into my rectum. I remember Fin's earlier advice and try to relax my anal muscles but I yelp and begin to wriggle as I feel my guts cramp while my belly distends as warm, soapy water jets into my innards. This earns me a sharp rebuke from an Arab overseer. "Stand still, slave or I`ll have you strapped down to a trestle. Slaves about to be inspected need to be clean both internally and externally. We need to clean out your bowels should one of Master Malik's esteemed clients wish to fuck you. It is essential that you are properly prepared for such an eventuality. There is no way that an important client would want to poke his noble cock into the ass-hole of an unclean, Franj slave. Now listen and do exactly as I say. Tightly clench the cheeks of your buttocks together and stand up. Good! Now, still keep them clenched together and go and squat over one of the latrine holes." The overseer indicates one of a row of latrine holes set in the floor. "Keep your ass closed and don't let any of the water dribble out of your hole until I give you permission to expel it. Now squat and position your ass over the hole. NOW YOU CAN LET GO!" Unclenching my buttocks, I have no control as I expel the waste and water from my bowels. Then, when I've finished, the Arab commands me to bend at the waist once more so that the procedure can be repeated. This procedure is repeated three times before the overseers are satisfied that, "The slave's ass is running clean". All around me, my six fellow slaves are receiving similar treatment to me. When, we are finished and judged to be "clean", we are paired with one another and because there are seven of us, I am the odd man out. Consequently, I don't know what I must do. Then, I hear an Arab give a further order to two of the slaves assistants. "You two get him under a shower and clean him up. And as a reward you can play with him but make sure he doesn't cum." The two slaves are delighted and began to giggle at this prospect of toying with me. With their cocks rampantly erect, they enthusiastically drag me under a shower-head. As the cold water cascades over our bodies, one of the two slaves places himself in front of me whilst the other takes up a position behind me until I am sandwiched between their hard, muscular bodies. I feel the cock of the slave behind him probing into the crack between my buttocks whilst the cock of the slave in front presses itself against my groin and begins to massage my own cock to a full erection. Next, I feel the cock-head pressing against my ass-hole and involuntarily, my body responds to this new and erotic stimulation. As the Arab overseers watch us under the shower, their own cocks grow rock hard and tent their trousers. Obviously, they enjoy watching as the two slave attendants work on me. My body begins to quiver as two pairs of soap-slicked hands roamed freely over my chest and back and soon I am moaning softly as my sensitive nipples are pinched and my ass-cheeks squeezed. This seems to increase the two slaves' pleasure and they are now giggling uncontrollably. It would seem that the Arabs have a policy of rewarding their slave helpers by allowing them restricted access to the bodies of the slaves they are working on. This helps to keep them in good humour and ensures their workmanship is of the highest standard. Now both slaves are on their knees; one vigorously sucks my cock as the other pries my ass-cheeks apart and hungrily thrusts the tip of his hot, moist tongue into my exposed ass-hole. I am rendered helpless under the onslaught of their mouths and tongues; my knees buckle and I begin to moan my appreciation at the attention I am getting. I respond by alternatively thrusting my hips forward in an effort to force my cock further down the slave's open throat and then pushing backwards as I try to draw the invading tongue further into my body. Somewhere in the background, I hear an Arab overseer's laughing comment. "The new slave responds well to the touch of the cock. It augurs well for him and he has the promise of giving much pleasure to his new Master." However, they decide it is now time to stop and return to the task at hand. "STOP! THAT'S ENOUGH! Now soap him up and wash him down - and make sure you do a thorough job." Immediately, both slaves begin to lovingly wash my body; once my head has been washed, one slave slowly moves the soap down over my chest and belly whilst the other uses his soap to caress my shoulders and back. My rampantly erect cock pokes out obscenely from the flat plain of my belly and it is evidence of my enjoyment at the attention I am receiving. Once more, both slaves are on their knees as they wash my genitals and my ass. One of the slaves looks furtively to see if the overseers are watching before using the soap as a lubricant and slyly inserting his soap-slicked finger into my asshole. As the finger probes deep, it seeks out my prostate and I surrender to the pleasure of the moment and thrust backwards. "STOP THAT! Get your finger out of his ass, finish washing him and then dry him off unless you want my whip across you asses." The chastened slaves hasten to obey the overseer's command and soon I am washed and dried and ready for the Arabs' inspection. As an overseer inspects me, I'm aware of new, exhilarating sensations sweeping through my body and I find that I am willingly submitting to his suggestive stimulations. I whimper softly as he weighs and hefts my balls and teases the piss-slit of my now rampantly erect cock. As he pries my buttocks apart, I eagerly widen my stance to allow him easier access and at the touch of an exploratory finger on my sphincter, I thrust my ass back in an eager invitation to him to "come and explore some more". The Arab spends several minutes deliciously exploring my body and when he is finished it is the other Arab overseer's turn to examine me. And I find myself submitting to this second inspection as readily as I did with the first Arab. My mind is a maelstrom of mixed emotions. One part of me still rebels at the thought that I am now a slave and another man's property. But then, my lifelong fantasies manifest themselves and the thought that I am another man's slave excites me in ways that I never thought possible. As I am fingered and erotically aroused, slavery seems sensuous and highly desirous. Each moment that passes and with each new experience, I am becoming more slave-like in my outlook. As I think on the paradox of this, I finally understand that Anwar was correct in his original assessment of me. I am, by my very nature, a true slave. This morning is proving to be my epiphany! The self-realization that I was born to be a chattel slave coupled with my desire to be owned and used by a powerful Master excites me. Suddenly, I better understand myself. Now there are no more ambiguities to trouble me. A tremor of excitement ripples through me as I realize that I am now a branded slave who'll soon be sold by my Master, Anwar to a new owner. I begin to tremble uncontrollably at the thought that two days hence I will mount the auction block and seductively pose my body to attract a buyer. I know that, in the interim, I am to be exhibited to two prospective buyers and I am erotically aroused by the thought of submitting my body to their close, hands-on scrutiny. This will challenge me as never before! I look at the six waiters and wonder if any of them share my experience. Are they happy to be slaves? Somehow I doubt it! From what they have told me, they were kidnapped into their slavery and spirited away to Malik's slave-market and sold. All have expressed their unhappiness at serving as slaves and yet, of necessity, they have accepted it as their lot. But then, they had no other choice which is the same situation I now find myself in. Prior to their enslavement, did any of them harbour a slave's nature that saw them embrace slavery much as I am? Again, it is doubtful that they do, for nothing they have said to me indicates this is so. I guess then that my long held, fantasy slave-life makes me an aberration and that my lifelong desire to serve as a slave makes me very different to them. All seven of us are now finished. We have been made ready for the day's inspections and it is time to return us to the slave-holding pens. But two more chores need to be performed on us before we are fastened to our neck chain and whip driven back to our cell. The slave attendants work swiftly to massage a perfumed unguent into our bodies. Its purpose is twofold; it serves to mask any lingering body odour and to highlight our musculatures. When they'd finished, I am left to salivate at the sight of my fellow slaves as their muscles ripple and flex under the oil sheen. I can understand why Malik does this; as a past master at presentation, his livestock is displayed to perfection and will whet the appetite of any prospective buyers who visit the pens. The sight of the six waiters' naked, oiled torsos is powerfully erotic and I find myself hoping that my own body is the equal of theirs. Somehow, I suspect it is. Then an Arab orders us to. "Bend and spread! Pry open those ass-cheeks! Stretch them open! WIDER!" I wait as the slave attendants move down the line lubricating all seven of us ready for digital exploration or worse - anal penetration. The lubricant feels cold and sticky as it is smeared onto my sphincter and worked into my rectum. Nevertheless, another man's touch, even that of a slave, on my body both arouses and excites me. An Arab overseer moves behind us parting our ass-cheeks and testing to see that we are well-lubricated. As he finishes his inspection of each one of us, he dismissively slaps our asses and tells to stand as the second overseer fastens the chain to our collars. When all seven of us are chained together, the overseers crack their whips over our heads - taking great care not to mark our bodies - to start us walking. Somehow, as I shuffle along in the coffle, I am reminded of farm animals being driven back to the stables. And this is exactly what is happening; we are indeed animals being taken back to our own stall in the slave-pens. When you are a slave waiting for something to happen, time has the habit of moving slowly. There is no clock on the wall for us to mark the passing of the minutes and we aren't allowed to wear watches; indeed my own very expensive, Swiss watch was confiscated and I notice one of the Arab overseers now wears it on his wrist. Consequently, I have no idea of time other than that it's still early morning. Boredom rules in the slave-pens! Left to our own devices, we either sit listlessly on the straw-strewn floor or we pace the perimeters of our cells liked caged beasts as we wait for something - anything - to happen. Time passes with inexorable slowness! Then - I estimate its mid-morning - the overseers crack their whips to gain our attention and order us to. "Move to the front of the pens and stand facing out through the bars." A murmur ripples through the six waiters as we quickly take up our places at the front of our pen. Now we wait for further developments. It seems to me that a slave requires a great deal of patience as he waits on his betters. Suddenly, a door opens and Malik and two African men enter the holding area. They walk slowly down the central walkway pausing before each pen to study its occupants before moving to the next cell. Eventually, they stop directly in front of our pen and I am able to see the two Africans through the bars. Briefly, I study them before averting my eyes and lowering them to the ground. For some inexplicable reason, this seems the right thing for me to do. It is the natural order of things that a slave must never look directly into the face of a free man unless he is ordered to do so. I am learning fast. But in those few, brief moments, I see that both Africans are expensively dressed and supremely confident. I estimate that one is aged in his late thirties to early forties while the second one is much younger - a teenager of about seventeen or eighteen. There is a marked family resemblance between the two Africans and it occurs to me that they could be father and son. The notion that a father has brought his son with him as he inspects a slave is a powerfully erotic one. It far surpasses any previous slave fantasy that I have enjoyed in the past. I recall from yesterday's conversation between Anwar and Malik that an African oil billionaire has asked to inspect me. Is this the man they spoke of and has he brought his son along to help in making a decision on whether or not to buy me? Part of me is horrified at the prospect of this happening and yet another side to me wants this to happen. I begin to tremble at the thought of this black teenager helping his father make a final selection. Malik confirms that they are father and son as he introduces them to the two Arab overseers as Ahmedu Hadi and his son, Abdel Hadi. Both Africans greet the overseers and after an exchange of pleasantries the older of the two speaks to Malik. "And tell me Malik, which of these slaves is the one you spoke of so glowingly yesterday? Have him come forward so that I can peruse him more thoroughly." Malik points directly at me and orders me to, "Step forward, slave and press your body up against the bars so that Master Ahmedu and Master Abdel can inspect you!" I remember back to my earlier conversations with Fin and the other slaves and recall how they'd told me to present my body to a prospective buyer for examination. I grab hold of the bars for support and press my body hard against the bars separating me from the two Africans. And then I recall that Holger had advised me to sell myself to the buyers and I push my cock and balls out through the bars as an invitation to examine them more easily. My actions meet with the approval of Ahmedu Hadi who compliments Malik. "The slave seems eager to please Malik, and readily presents his body for my inspection. And I believe you said he is a new slave? Is that not so?" "Indeed he is Ahmedu! He's been a slave for less than twenty-four hours as you can see from the rawness of the brand on his ass. This time yesterday, he was still a highly successful, London lawyer holidaying in Maluchistan." "And today he is just a naked slave! How cruelly the fates have conspired to irrevocably change his life for him. I take it that he had no inkling of the fate that was to befall him when he journeyed to Maluchistan?" "He had none whatsoever, Ahmedu! The foolish Franj was most cunningly duped by my old friend Anwar who feigned friendship and affection for him. These foolish infidels; they are so self-obsessed and they never realize that we only ever see them as white slaves." "It is indeed fortunate that their arrogance blinds them to reality. And everything you said about him is true. He is most pleasing to the eye. He has the blond hair and blue eyes that I favour in my slaves and his body is honed to perfection; I suspect it was acquired within a London gymnasium from the look of him. But now with your permission, I will examine him and if he interests me, I would ask that he be taken to a room for a private viewing and appraisal." "Indeed, Ahmedu! The slave is entirely at your disposal. Take your time and evaluate him at your leisure. Is Abdel to assist you in your appraisal of the slave?" "Yes, Malik. Abdel is now of an age where it's only right that he assists me in choosing a slave for our household. In fact, I have told Abdel that should he see a slave he likes then I will bid on that slave for him." "What a generous, doting father, you are, Ahmedu! And tell me Abdel - have you seen a slave that takes your fancy? There are many to choose from among this lot. Do you have a preference for a particular type of slave?" "Yes, Sir!" Abdel's reply to Malik's question is most polite. Obviously he has great respect for his elders. And his polished accent is that of a British Public School. "I share my Dad's liking for blond, blue eyed slaves." "Ah, like father like son" Malik laughs. "Then you should have a wide scope among your father's slaves most of whom would meet those criteria if my memory serves me correctly." "Indeed he does, Malik! I'm afraid that Abdel has a tendency to put my slaves to frequent, hard usage." "Good for him, Ahmedu! After all, isn't that why we keep our slaves? They are there to serve us and no doubt your slaves serve nobly to satisfy son's lusty needs" "That's true, Malik and believe me Abdel makes sure my slaves offer up their mouths and asses and serve his needs most admirably. But it's not the same as him having his very own slave and that's why he is with me today. If he sees a slave he likes then we will bid for him at auction. Now tell me, Abdel, have you seen a slave you like?" "Yes Dad, I quite like that one second from the end." "Which end of the line is that Abdel?" Malik asks. "Sir, I like the look of that tow-headed slave second from the left." Furtively, I glance sideways to see which of my companions, the teenager has chosen. I see that it's Finbar. My heart skips a beat. Perhaps Fin and I will be bought by the same buyer. I hope so for to commence my slavery with Fin will lessen my trauma. "You have chosen well, young man! He's a fine slave and came originally from Ireland. I sold him for the first time just twelve months ago and his Master is absolutely delighted with him." "If his Master is so delighted with the slave then why is he being sold?" Abdel asks suspiciously. "His Master buys six slaves each year to work in his London restaurant. However, he changes his waiters every six months replacing them with new stock. He'll be bidding for another six slaves as replacements for these six at Saturday's auction. But let me bring the slave to the bars and you can examine him more closely. Does he still interest you, Abdel?" "Yes, he does very much so, Sir!" "Step up to the bars, slave!" Fin hurries forward to stand beside me and, eager to please, he presses his body against the front of the pen. And like me, he positions his cock and balls between the bars and we both wait for the father and son to inspect us. To be continued.................. You can access all the Jean-Christophe stories by joining the archive group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES A Sequel to "A Reversal of Fortune" Chapter 23: Part 1:"The Guessing Game" This a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) Read my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Chritophe_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission" Chapter 23: Part 1 "The Guessing Game" Rafe I feel very much alone. True, there is a trusty present to watch over me as I wait for my Master and Lionel Schuster to arrive but he is of no consequence. Like me he is a slave. But the loneliness I feel in this grim room is compounded from my fear of the unknown - what is to happen to me? My master has brought me here for a purpose. I know I'm to be appraised and he will be given an estimate of my value on the auction-block. But beyond that I know nothing. Nor will I be told. My Master doesn't owe me an explanation and he'll make the decision as to what is to become of me. The thought that I could be sold terrifies me with its uncertainty. A slave has no control over his destiny; he stands on the auction-block and his fate becomes a lottery determined by numbers; the amount of dollars that a buyer is prepared to pay for him. Those who aspire to own him shout out those numbers in feverish activity and each vies with the other to possess him. The traumatised slave stands mute and powerless on his block and waits to be sold. In my worst fears, I see myself being sold like Cato. Poor Cato! What has been done to him? Where is he now? >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Cato Cato and I had been separated on our arrival and he'd been taken to an inspection room identical to the one I'm standing in. There, like me, he'd been shackled onto a podium and left to wait for the arrival of his Master and Lionel Schuster. He stood there alone in fearful apprehension and sobbed as he contemplated his fate. By the time Lionel Schuster was ready to begin his appraisal, Cato was beside himself and bordering on the hysterical. It became necessary to use the cane on him to calm him. Fortunately for Cato it only took three strokes of the cane to settle him and make him amenable to the dealer's inspection. Lionel Schuster was thorough in his inspection and no part of Cato's body escaped his scrutiny. The dealer's experienced hands gauged his musculature and tested for the strength of his body. His finger probed into the deep recess of Cato's body testing him for `wear and tear' and into his mouth checking the soundness of his teeth. Cato was made to flex and bend and to contort his body into poses that better displayed him. Then in one, final obscene test, Cato was made to masturbate. Finally, with the examination completed, Lionel Schuster delivers his verdict on Cato. "Well Mr Maratier, I'm afraid it's a mixed report on your slave. He's still in good condition considering his age. He's sound of wind and limb and his physique is still reasonable - although a little soft but that could soon be corrected by hard labour. But I have to say he has limited appeal." "What about his years of experience as a household steward? Doesn't that count?" "In his case, no it doesn't. He's on the wrong side of forty and most buyers would see him as long in the tooth. No, I'm afraid even his appeal as a steward is limited. Most buyers want a younger slave as their steward. Much like the one have just bought. Occasionally, you do find a widow or an elderly spinster lady who is looking for a mature slave. That's your only hope I'm afraid. But I have to say even these cases are rare." "Well then, what am I to do with him?" "The only suggestion I have is to put him up for auction and let the market decide. There's a buyer for every slave and all slaves do sell eventually." "Who would he appeal to? Who'd buy him? "My feeling is that he'll be bought for heavy duty labour. A field hand perhaps. But more likely, he'll end up labouring on a building site or in the mines and quarries. There's always a demand for cheaper slaves to fill these jobs. The owners prefer to buy cheaper, mature aged slaves rather than the highly priced, younger ones. Certainly their turnover of slaves is higher but the initial lower cost of buying older slaves works in the owners' favour. Your slave still has a number of useful years left in him. Once he's been conditioned to his new work - why I estimate he's good for at least five or six years. He'll return his cost several times over," Lionel Schuster chuckles grimly, "his new owner will see to that." "I have to sell him so it appears I don't have an option. What's he worth?" "Could we discuss that out of earshot of the slave? It's not good to let a slave know what he's worth." "Why is that?" Well it's bad for their morale. Some slaves become bigheaded when they learn how valuable they are and will boast about it to slaves of lesser value. It can cause a lot of resentment and bad feeling. Why, I've even seen slaves fight with one another over their market value. Anyway it's none of a slave's business to know what he's worth to his master, is it?" "No! I suppose you're right. Go ahead and sell him. When will that be? Will it be his Friday?" "I'm afraid not, Mr Maratier. It's too late for Friday's venue. Our catalogue has already been printed. But he'll be put up for sale at the following Friday's auction. In the meantime we'll hold him in our pens at no cost to you. Are you happy with that?" "I suppose I'll have to be, won't I?" "Very well then, I'll have my slave fit him with his holding chains and take him over to the pens. Don't worry, we'll look after him. Now I suppose we should move onto the appraisal of your other slave. What's his name? Ahh! Rafe, that's it." >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Rafe Suddenly, I hear the sounds of loud laughter and the animated conversation of male voices in the passage outside the door. I recognise my Master's voice - but he isn't laughing - and it sounds to have an edge to it. I'm quickly becoming aware of my Master's short temper - indeed I now know I must tread warily with him - and I wonder what has upset him. Of course, I'm not privy to my Master's thought and I'm not to know that he is bitterly disappointed with the result of Cato's appraisal and the prospect of selling him at a reduced price has darkened his mood. Given Cato's long experience; he genuinely feels that his former steward is worth far more that the miserly sum quoted to him by Lionel Schuster. So disappointed is he in fact that he'd even thought of not selling Cato and taking him home. Then he'd remembered his grandmother and her desire to be rid of Cato's presence from the house. He has no wish to upset her; therefore he'd reluctantly agreed to sell Cato. At the sound of the voices my trusty is spurred into action. He snaps his whip at my back and although it doesn't actually touch me I feel its breath softly caress my shoulders and I begin to shiver involuntarily. The trusty orders me to my knees and then, as the door opens, he commands me into the full obeisance position. I now kneel with my forehead and the palms of my hands pressed to the floor and my ass elevated. Apparently, I'm not yet in the correct position; I feel the trusty's hands pressing on the inside of my upper legs forcing them further apart. Then humiliatingly, he reaches in between my thighs and re-arranges me so that my balls hang low and my cock is made more visible. I am now open for inspection and the fiery heat of my shame scorches my body and colours me a vivid scarlet. From my lowly position, I can't see who enters the room but I'm acutely aware of their presence. However, I do recognise the voices as those of my Master and the slave-dealer, Lionel Schuster and the good-natured laughter is that of my former friends Miles Fortescue, Jack Stanford and Daniel Carew. The three younger men - former friends from my schooldays - are here at the invitation of my Master who is using them to humiliate me as I am examined and valued. Foolishly, I believe he is mistaken in thinking he can add to my degradation for I am now at the very bottom of the deep pit of my despair. Nothing he does now can shame me further or add to my humiliation. But I am wrong; I'm yet to endure even greater degradation. From my position of debasement, I'm aware of the five men slowly circling me and assessing me much as a predatory cat would a terrified mouse My body trembles with the emotion of all this and tears well up into my eyes as I hear the loud sniggering of my erstwhile friends. I ask myself did our friendship - on which I'd personally placed great store - really mean so little to them that they can now participate in my latest shaming? Having sympathy for my present situation - and I do understand that as a slave I can no longer be their friend - couldn't they at least have declined my Master's cruel invitation to watch as the slave-dealer values me? The fact that they did not and now stand behind me hurts me and cuts deep into my soul. My emotional pain is as acute as my physical pain. My body aches from its unaccustomed exertions of the past two days and is a forewarning of the hardships that await me as I labour in my Master's interests. My ass still throbs from my two canings and it is painful to the touch. The angry stripes that criss-cross my buttocks are visible evidence of this pain. They are there for all to see, to touch or to comment on. Their redness is fading into the ugly blue-black and yellow bruises that I'm destined to wear for some days yet. Inevitably these bruises will disappear just as the pain I now feel will ease. All that will be left of my physical punishments will be memories of the almost unbearable agony I'd experienced. These memories are for my own good and will serve as a cautionary warning to me to always be obedient to my Master's wishes and to be conscientious in meeting my responsibilities to him. They will encourage me in my good behaviour and will act as spur to do all within my limited scope to avoid future chastisement. However, my emotional pain is quite different. It cuts deep into my psyche and will never go away. It will lie buried within me and if I allow it to it will gnaw away at my self-esteem. I am in the depths of despair; despised, rejected and ridiculed by all around me. There is an exception of course -Norge. But he isn't here to comfort or support me in the ordeal that I must now undergo at the hands of these five men who surround me. Deep within my chest I feel a silent sob catching at my breath; I do my best to stifle it but I can't stop my tears from flowing. Why have I suddenly lost my composure? What has brought me to this low state? From somewhere within the maelstrom of my thoughts, I find the answer. It is the bitter rejection of me by my three former friends! I had been shocked at the rejection and hostility shown to me within the courtroom on the day of my enslavement and I was equally dismayed at the crowd's scorn and abuse as I ran alongside Norge through the city streets that same afternoon. Their rejection of me had been impersonal in that I didn't know them. However I do know my three former friends, Miles, Jack and Daniel and their rejection is the cruellest of all and is an intolerable burden for me to shoulder. We had been noisy playmates as toddlers, inseparable as boisterous school-boys and the closest of confidantes as we cavorted through our teen-aged years and explored our burgeoning sexuality together. We had discovered things about ourselves as we matured into responsible young men living up to family expectations of us and together we had shared many secrets. It's true to say I'd loved all three almost as the brothers I'd never had. They were the solace of my lonely boyhood and the mainstay of my teen-aged years. Eventually, we'd gone our separate ways with each of us following different career paths but we'd always stayed in touch with one another. We meet from time to time to catch-up and reminisce and it seems incredible that less than a week ago we'd met for drinks in our favourite bar. But that was a week ago and in another world. It's a world of which I am no longer a part; for they are free men whereas I'm now a slave. Their rejection cuts deep to the very core of my being. It truly diminishes me as a person - and in purely legal terms I am now a non- person - but even as a slave I still retain vestiges of my humanity. Their rejection robs me of my self-confidence, feeds my sense of utter worthlessness and plants the seeds of guilt, revulsion and a festering self-loathing. I'd thought each day that my life had plumbed new depths and that I couldn't sink any further into the mire of my slavery. I am wrong. I feel numb from the realisation that even those I'd once loved have now cast me out of their lives and see me as only a slave. My former friends have caused me so much hurt and heartache that I'm grateful I don't have family or close relatives. It would be infinitely worse to be rejected by them. True, I am distantly related to the Maratier's but even that tenuous link to family has been taken away from me. I'd never known them as family and so for me there's no sense of rejection on their part. Then I remember Charlotte Maratier. I remember how as a young, twenty-something woman her father had exiled her from the family home and caste her pennilessly adrift in the world because she'd made an unsuitable marriage. I think of her sense of rejection and wonder did she feel then as I do now. I think of the long years she'd endured the pain of her rejection and of the anguish this must have caused her. Obviously her sense of rejection had eaten away within her and had turned itself into a corrosive mix of bitterness and venomous hatred. I still hate and fear her - she is after all the architect of my downfall - but I now have some understanding of what drives her anger and fuels her cruel viciousness. I wonder if over the long years of my slavery whether I will become like her. Will I too become twisted and embittered? I fervently hope not and promise myself to do all within my power not to become like Charlotte Maratier. Then soothingly, my mind quickly answers my questions - No I won't! This won't happen for I have Norge. He will be at my side and I will have his friendship and support. Oh, how I wish he was here now. This is almost a revelation for I realise that I'm not alone. Not everyone has repudiated me. Amidst the ruins of my life and surrounded by the debris of lost friendships, I have one who supports and comforts me - Norge. At first, he too had rejoiced at my shame and humiliation. But then he'd seen me as the shattered shell of my former self and he'd reached out to me in friendship. This tells me much about Norge's generosity of spirit. Although a slave, he has a far greater humanity than any of my former, erstwhile friends. Now, because of Norge's friendship, their rejection becomes a little easier to bear. The knowledge that Norge is to be my companion in my slavery lightens my spirit and it strengthens my resolve and I take comfort from this. The depth of Norge's feelings for me, when all others have cast me out of their lives, goes some way to restoring my shattered self-image. I see the good in him and he is the only stabilising influence in my dreary existence. With this insight my tears begin to flow more copiously as I hear Jack Stanford's degrading observation. "Hey! Rafe's got a great ass! I don't think I'd ever noticed it before. Have you guys?" Of course, all three have seen my naked ass - just as I had seen their own - on countless occasions. After all we played sport together at school and afterwards in the showers we'd always indulged in much horseplay as we wrestled naked with one another and provocatively flicked at each other with our towels. And hadn't we spent many happy, sundrenched hours skinny-dipping in the rivers and ponds that abound on our families' properties. Without any thought, we swam in our chosen nudity whilst all around us our families' slaves had industriously toiled away in their owner imposed slave-nakedness. It had been something of a joke to us to taunt the sweating slaves with our freedom to cool off in the water while they were forced by the overseers' whips to labour on without a break under the sun's intensity. Selfishly, we'd never given them a second thought. As I think on this, I now recall one occasion, when a young, new slave not much older than I was had straightened up from his hoeing and had watched enviously as all four of us splashed and cavorted in the river. Callously, we had watched as an overseer applied his whip three times to the unfortunate slave's back and we'd laughed out loud at his yelps and cries of pain. Now, as a slave, I know that our laughter was misplaced and our indifference to the young slave's suffering was cruelly insensitive. We'd grown up accustomed to each other's nudity and this continued into our young adulthood. We were always comfortably naked in one another's company and never saw any shame in our healthy, common nudity. But our nakedness was that of free persons and it had been of our making; we had chosen to be naked. This nakedness of a free man is very different to the nakedness imposed upon slaves. A slave doesn't have a voice in the matter. Their nakedness is at the behest of their masters and is designed to differentiate them from free society. It tells them they are no longer freemen but something more akin to animals and it is a constant reminder of their true status as slaves. Consequently, my slave-nakedness is mandated by free society and it isn't of my doing. My former friends obviously recognise this fact. They now see me as a slave and they accept my nudity as part of that condition. Therefore, I am to be fair game for their scorn, the butt of their crude jokes and the cause of their ribald laughter. In this they are to be ably assisted by my Master and Lionel Schuster. Miles Fortescue - always the smartest of the three - recognises my changed circumstances and tell his friends, "That's because Rafe wasn't always a slave; we knew him then as Lucien Barrois when he was free. So his free ass was no different to our own. Now it's different; it's a slave's ass. However Jack, I have to agree with you - it is a beautiful ass." I cringe at where this conversation is taking my tormentors and I wonder at Mile's next question. "Guy. Do I have your permission?" "Please, feel free, Miles. I'm sure Mister Schuster won't mind waiting for a few more minutes." What is it that Miles has sought permission to do. They still stand in a group behind me and nervously I wait. What is that my Master has agreed to? Stealthily, I shift position and raise my head slightly and try to peer back through my outstretched legs. My movements were ever so slight and I thought they'd go unnoticed. I was wrong. An angry shout from my Master and two loudly resounding slaps on my buttocks convinces me of this. "HOLD STILL! STOP FIDGETING, RAFE!" To emphasise his command, my Master delivers another two stinging slaps to my already smarting ass and I have no option other than to comply and wait. I gasp as a hand parts my buttocks even wider than my spread legs allow and I shudder as a finger touches the delicate membrane of my anus. I brace for a digital invasion but mercifully this doesn't happen. I assume it is Mile's finger that is touching me and once more I feel the hot flush of my embarrassment wash over my body. "I'd say Rafe's a virgin," Miles announces triumphantly, "What do you think Mr Schuster? Is it your opinion that the slave is a virgin?" "I haven't had a chance to check him, Miles. At this stage, I'd rather not speculate on whether or not the slave is a virgin. I will be exploring him more fully in a few minutes during his examination. So I'll reserve judgement until then." "But he looks tight." Miles replies. "AAH! But looks can be deceptive. Let's wait a little longer, shall we? Be patient! All will be revealed in the fullness of time, Miles. Now if you have finished, I think it's time to make a start on him. Right, Mr Maratier?" "Of course, Mr Schuster, Rafe's in your hands. You can start whenever you're ready." "In that case, let's have him on his feet." Lionel Schuster takes my Master athis word. Then he instructs me. "UP ON YOUR FEET, BOY! NOW AND BE QUICK ABOUT IT!" Hastily, I scramble to my feet but as I do so my restraining chain wraps itself around my ankles and I accidently fall forward onto my knees. I'm unaware that Lionel Schuster is armed with a cane until I feel its bite on my shoulders. Twice more I feel it fall across my back and my cry of shocked pain is drowned out by the slaver's angry shouting. "YOU STUPID DOLT!!!!! Get to your feet. NOW!" This time my efforts are successful and I now stand ramrod erect with my arms by my side and my eyes focused on some imaginary spot high up on the far wall of the room. My body quivers and my teeth chatter from my nervousness. Lionel Schuster moves to my front; impatiently, he taps my fear-shrivelled cock with his cane and orders me to move my feet further apart. I do as he instructs; I stand ready for his inspection and for any other humiliation that he is to heap on me. Momentarily there is silence as the dealer's gaze rakes over my naked body. He is taking his time and savouring this opportunity to belittle me in front of my Master and my former friends. It's obvious to me that he derives great satisfaction at having me stand before him as a helpless slave. For Lionel Schuster its pay-back time and he bitterly remembers all the slights and insults he'd ever suffered at the hands of Lucien Barrois. He is determined the slave, Rafe is to be repaid tenfold for each and every one of Lucien's offences. He is now ready to begin. My Master and my former friends move into position in front of me and they group themselves into an arc where they can watch as Lionel works on me. As I wait for the dealer to begin, my limbs begin to tremble and my body is racked by a violent shaking. My heart pounds with an almost explosive force within my heaving chest and desperately I fight to fill my lungs with air. I am seized by a wild panic and I begin to weep. I am on the verge of hysteria. Lionel Schuster is no stranger to these panic attacks; indeed he has come to expect them from a new slave. His cure is brutally effective. His cruel slap to my face echoes loudly around the room. "SNAP OUT OF IT!!!!!!" The shock of his slap works. Involuntarily, I catch my breath and I begin to breathe normally. My panic eases and my trembling lessens. As Lionel waits for me to settle down he tells my audience that what they have just witnessed is quite normal and nothing out of the ordinary. He tells them that all slaves "do it". All eyes focus on me as Jack asks. "Mr Schuster. Is there a routine you follow when you examine a slave? I mean where do you start?" "Son, most appraisers have their own ways of inspecting a slave. They all have different approaches. But to answer your question - yes I do follow a set pattern. It's one I've developed over the years and it works well for me. I start at the top and work down inspecting the front of the slave first and then have him turn around so that I can check out his rear." "I see so you'll check out his head first is that correct?" "Yes! Look would you like me to explain what I'm doing as I inspect our young friend here? I could give you a running commentary so to speak." "YES PLEASE!!!!" All three of my former friends chorus enthusiastically. Lionel Schuster moves closer to me until we almost touch. I feel his breath on my face and I smell its foulness. It is a sickening blend of unclean teeth, stale food, cigars and alcohol and as if to emphasise its loathsomeness he burps loudly just centimetres from my face. My nostrils are assailed by its unpleasantness and reflexively I move my head backwards in a vain attempt to escape this latest assault on my dignity. He doesn't waste any time in delivering a stinging slap to my left cheek and I'm told to "STAND STEADY!!!!!! DAMN YOU SLAVE!" My face smarts and once more my tears flow freely. I now realise that this man has no pity for me and he is determined that I am to suffer. "Look at me boy!" Quickly, I lower my eyes from the wall until I look straight into his face and what I see disturbs me. The corners of his thin lips are curled into a spiteful sneer and his hate-filled eyes bore into me with malevolent intensity. Suddenly, I'm terrified and I know I can expect little mercy from this man. I think back to my last visit to this establishment which was less than a fortnight ago. I recall how this man had fawned over me and obsequiously sought to ingratiate him into my favour. I remember how I'd treated him with the disdain I felt his obnoxious behaviour warranted. Little did I know then that I was sowing the seeds of my current predicament? Ironically I think on this and realise the tables are now turned. This man has it in his power to subject me to unspeakable shame and humiliation. Confidently, he reaches forward and places his hand in the middle of my chest. Ever so slightly I recoil at his touch and once more I feel the sting of his hand - this time on the right side of my face. "STEADY I SAID!!!!!! Now stand still unless you want to feel my cane on your ass." I look beyond him to my audience. I see their interest in observing how this man is subduing me and bending me to his will. My Master is smiling as he watches and even my three former friends watch with amusement. Lionel Schuster takes my head between his hands and inclines it forward towards him. He runs his fingers over my scalp and ruffles my slave crop. He now begins his commentary. "Well, gentlemen, as you can see I'm now examining the slave's scalp for any blemishes or scars that could detract from his value. But I'm pleased to say he is clear of both. Judging from the stubble on his scalp I'd say the slave had naturally thick hair. Am I correct?" It's a silly question and it is meant to be dismissive of me. By asking it he implies that he knows nothing about me and that I'm "just another slave" no different to those incarcerated in the nearby pens. He has of course seen me on numerous occasions and he knows that my thatch is both thick and blond, that I'd worn my unruly hair fashionably longish and I'd been inordinately proud of it. Bitterly, I recall how Cato had shorn me of my pride three nights ago. "Indeed you are right, Mr Schuster." Miles answers, "Lucien always wore his hair longer than was customary. In fact he was quite vain about it and I know he spent a lot of money in grooming it and keeping it stylish." "Well he's very much in vogue now isn't he?" Lionel laughs as he rubs his hands over my head, "He now wears it in slave vogue." His joke resonates and his laughter is joined by that of the other four. The slave-dealer is delighted with their responses and begins to play to his audience. "What do you say, gentlemen? What do you think of your friend's new haircut? Do you like it?" My tormentor is setting the pattern for my inspection. As he points out my salient features he is inviting comment from his audience. At the same time, by carefully wording his questions, he exposes me to their ridicule. It is Daniel - who has a tendency to not always think before he speaks -who replies. "I think it looks good on him. It suits him. Makes him look like a slave, doesn't it?" "Well Daniel, you'd expect it would, wouldn't you?" The ever correct Miles answers drily. "After all he IS a real slave." All four crane forward as the dealer examines my ears. Spitefully he twists, pulls and stretches them away from the side of my head before peering into their shells looking for any imperfections. Finding none, he now blows into them testing for my re-action. He grunts his approval as my slight, shivering responses. Satisfied, he next turns his attention to my eyes. He uses his fingers to pry my eyelids apart and examine my eyes. He comments on their colour. "The slave has blue eyes. That can be both a blessing and a curse." "How so?" My Master asks with just a note of annoyance in his voice. Is the dealer about to find fault with this slave also? "Well the slave has a good colour combination that would appeal to some buyers. Slaves with a blond thatch and blue eyes and who have the capacity to tan nicely are very much in favour. A blond, blue eyed slave with a golden coloured hide like this one commands a high price at the moment." "Why are they so popular? Who buys them?" "They're very much `en vogue' as dual purpose slaves. They're very popular with masters looking to use a slave both as a valet and as a pleasure slave. I haven't finished examining him yet but my feeling is that your slave shows great potential as a bed buck." "Well that's good isn't it? What's the down side to him then?" "Well for a start, while slaves with blond hair and blue eyes are most attractive and have great visual appeal, they do have weaknesses. In strong sunlight some of these slaves tend to suffer from excessive watering of the eyes and they develop an unattractive squint. Then of course there can be problems with their hides." "What do you mean?" My Master asks irritably, "What sorts of problems?" "There's no doubt that the hide on a blond slave tans beautifully. I'm the first to admit that but their skins can be tender and too much exposure to the sun can cause a number disfiguring skin disorders that detract from their overall appearances." "Is that really a big problem?" "Some owners think so and they won't use blond or auburn haired slaves for heavy duty, outdoor work. They prefer the hardier, darker haired varieties. Experience has shown they're less prone to sun damage." "So! What you're saying is that my slave could have limited appeal to a buyer as an outdoor worker because he has blond hair and blue eyes?" "Yes I am. Some owners - but not all -wouldn't see your slave as an outdoor worker. Instead, they'd see him more as a house slave. As I said before, currently blonds are fashionable. The demand for them remains high. If you decide to sell him, I would think he'd be quickly snapped up by an owner looking for a body servant. Really I see your slave's future duties being confined almost exclusively to his master's bedroom." "I think perhaps you overstate the case, Mr Schuster." My Master snaps impatiently, "I have seen many blond slaves working outdoors and anyway as long as a slave is able to work does his discomfort matter? I think not. Can we continue, please?" Lionel Schuster detects the terseness in Guy Maratier's voice and assumes - rightly - that he doesn't want to hear anything that disparages his slave. The dealer knows, even after so short an acquaintance, that the new inheritor of the Barrois fortune isn't all that different to the former heir. He bristles at Guy Maratier's arrogance but in the interests of future business prospects he decides he must adopt a conciliatory approach. Still, this galls him and as he feels the bile rising in his throat he directs his anger at the slave, Rafe. I stand helplessly mute at all this talk about the unsuitability of blond slaves for outdoor work and the mention of me as a body-slave or worse still - as a "bed-buck" - fills me with horror. My time as a slave has been too short for me to consider these possibilities. Once more the slaver turns his attention to me and he delivers a stinging blow to the side of my head. "OPEN YOUR MOUTH, BOY! OPEN IT WIDE!!!!!!" The impact of Lionel Schuster's slap to my face makes me stagger backwards and as tears fill my eyes I obey his shouted instruction. "I said open your mouth, boy. NOW DO IT!!! WIDER!!!!!!" I have been present at many slave inspections - far too many for me to recall - and I am aware that they all have one thing in common. That is the complete bullying of the wretched slave. This shouting and slapping of the face is part of this bullying and is meant to intimidate the slave into unquestioning compliance with any instructions given to him. I'd always viewed this as a necessary part of assessing a slave and I had in fact resorted to these tactics numerous times in my own handling of a slave. I'd never considered my actions as bullying but rather the necessary ones of a firm master. Never at any time had I thought of the physical pain or distress my actions caused to the slave I was examining. That is until now. The side of my face smarts from slaver's slap but it is the humiliation that I feel the most. I hear the sniggering of my former friends and as I look to my Master, I see he is smiling broadly. My audience is enjoying my very public shame. I do my best to obey and I open my mouth as wide as possible. But Lionel Schuster isn't satisfied; he uses the thumb and forefinger of his left hand to tightly pinch my nostrils together causing me to breathe through my mouth and therefore keep it open for my oral inspection. Miserably, I try to disassociate myself from what is happening to me as he thrusts his fingers deep into my mouth and examines the soundness of my teeth. My teeth are in excellent condition and as the former Lucien Barrois I hadn't spared any expense in keeping them that way. To ensure they remained so, I'd visited my dentist twice a year. Lionel Schuster grunts his approval. "The slave's teeth are in excellent condition. They're sound and I can't see any fillings. They're white and very even and that's always a good selling point with a slave. A slave with white, even teeth and a pleasant smile is always appreciated by his owner. Owners like for their house slaves to have healthy mouths, sound teeth and a sweet smelling breath. Personally I can't abide a slave with poor teeth. There's nothing worse than a slave with bad breath serving you." The irony of this last comment isn't lost on me. The dealer's face is very close to my own and I can see that his own teeth are stained yellow with nicotine and I'm unsure whether it's whiskey breath or stale body odour that assails my sense of smell. Whatever it is it is most unpleasant. He removes his fingers from my mouth and orders me to poke out my tongue. I do so and stand foolishly with my mouth gaping wide and my tongue lolling out. I must have presented a comical sight for it is greeted with loud guffaws from my former schoolmates. Inevitably it is Daniel -who was never the brightest of our group even during our school days - who asks why I have my tongue poking out and why is it being examined. I wonder at Daniel's naivety; he obviously hasn't examined too many slaves otherwise he'd know this is standard practice. But then, I remember that his father, rather unfairly, is impatient with Daniel's slowness and possibly hasn't instructed him in the finer details of a slave examination. Perhaps this is the reason why he's been accompanied here today by his friends, Miles and Jack to assist him in choosing his birthday present. Patiently, Lionel Schuster explains. "Daniel, I believe a slave's tongue is a good indicator of his health. A healthy tongue should be a bright rosy-pink colour and moist to the touch just like the one on this boy. I've always found a dry, greyish tongue to be an indicator of some underlying health problem. Your family owns a farm don't they Daniel? Well I'm sure when your father has a vet visit to check out his animals one of the first things the vet checks is a beast's tongue and its teeth. Well it's the same with a slave. There's not a lot of difference between a farm animal and a slave, you know." "I hadn't thought of that. But you're right Mr Schuster. I've have seen my father's vet check out the mouths of our farm animals." "There's another reason why I'm paying attention to this boy's mouth. Would you like me to explain why?" "Yes please!" "Well this slave is what I classify as a fancy. He has the potential to be sold as a pleasure slave. You do you see where I'm going with this don't you, Daniel?" "Um, I not sure ......" "Well, your father is giving you a slave of your own as a birthday present. Isn't that why you're here today? To help you choose your present?" "Yes, sir. That's correct." "Well what will you use your new slave for Daniel? Let me guess? A healthy, young, virile lad like you would certainly use his personal slave for sexual relief - isn't that so?" "YES SIR! And I'm looking forward to it. It means I won't have to sneak around and fuck my mother's house-boys when she's not looking. She has never approved of me doing that. But Dad understands and I know He sometimes does the same as me when Mom's away." "Exactly! And I would think it isn't only their asses you use. What about BJ's? I'm sure you have used them for that? Well it's the same with Rafe. Should he be bought as a bed-buck, then it won't only be his ass that his master will use. His mouth and tongue will be put to good use also." "That'll be a new experience for Rafe." Miles re-joins the conversation, "As far as I know He has never allowed either his ass or his mouth to be used. Quite the contrary, as I said earlier I believe he's a virgin and he was always aggressive in his use of his slaves." "Well then, he's in for a rude awakening isn't he?" Lionel Schuster laughs at his own crude innuendo. "It won't only be his eyes that are opened." I can only stand and listen in horror to this conversation of how my body is to be used if indeed I'm sold as a `bed-buck'. How I hate that name and all it implies. But the slave-dealer is right. If a master does buy me to use as his pleasure slave then I'll have no other choice but to buckle under to his demands. "So you see, Daniel what I'm now doing is also checking out the slave's mouth to judge its potential for giving pleasure. Speaking of which are you boys interested in playing a game with Rafe?" "What sort of game?" Jack asks warily. "What I have in mind is a both a test of the slave's ability to use his mouth for pleasure and a little contest of your guessing skills. Do any of you know the average length of a slave's tongue?" My master and my former friends readily admit that they don't know and it is left to the ever practical Miles to ask. "How do we measure the tongue, Mr Schuster? Given its structure, I would think it's an impossibility to accurately judge its length." "No, not at all, Miles. You simply have the slave poke his tongue as far out of his mouth as possible then measure from its tip back to the middle of the closed top lip. So with your permission, Mr Maratier, what I suggest is that each of us try and judge the length of Rafe's tongue and whoever guesses correctly or is the nearest to it is the winner and the slave gives him a blow job. That way I can see how experienced he is and the winner gets a little, light relief. What do you say Mr Maratier? Do we have your permission to play this game with your slave?" Desperately I hope my Master will spare me this degradation. Surely, he'll say no. But I am to be disappointed. Dismayed, I hear my Master give his enthusiastic approval. "By all means, Mr Schuster, you have my permission. Now who'll be the first to try his hand at guessing the length of Rafe's tongue?" What is the length of the human tongue? More to the point - what is the length of my tongue? To be honest, I'd never thought about it. But then - who has? It is such a ridiculous question. Yet it has been asked of my tongue and I must now stand stupidly on my podium with my mouth agape and my tongue poking out to allow my tormentors to argue over its length. And I thought that my Master couldn't subject me to any further degradation. How wrong I am. Even worse is to follow; the lucky winner gets to use my mouth for his sexual pleasure. My hatred for my Master is almost matched by the hatred I feel for the loathsome Lionel Schuster - whose foul idea this is - and for my three former friends who now stand before me laughing and guffawing at my humiliation. As they make their crude remarks, I hate them with a silent intensity that simmers deep within me. However, I must be careful not to show my true feelings; the consequences for me could be dire. They are my superiors and I am just a slave and I must remain respectful towards them. I try to detach myself from the debate about the length of my tongue and close my mind to what is being said. However, I hear Daniel put in his bid at four inches. The others range downwards to just two inches. There is much jocularity among them as they shout out their estimates and several times my tongue is pulled away from my mouth and examined. One of the rules of the "game" is that no ruler is to be used at this stage. It must only be done by guesswork. As Lionel Schuster laughingly suggests -"it's a game of chance." I have already heard Daniel offer his overly-optimistic estimation of four inches but my mind is so shocked by this grotesque parody that the estimates proffered by the others fail to register with me. . But I'm to find out that Jack's guess of two inches is the shortest and those of my Master, Lionel Schuster and Miles Fortescue are all somewhere between Jack's and Daniel's guesses. Finally, the dealer asks. "Are you all done? Those are your final guesses. You're not making any changes? Then let's see who wins." He orders me to poke out my tongue as far as is humanly possible and to assist me, he grabs its tip and tugs at it. He then tells me to close my mouth and he uses a short ruler to measure my tongue's length from its tip back to the centre of my closed, top lip. My master watches with obvious amusement and my three erstwhile friends wait with bated breath for Lionel Schuster to deliver his finding. Obviously the prospect of them using my mouth is an appealing one. Lionel Schuster's verdict of 3.42 inches is greeted with loud exclamations of disappointment by my former friends. They have missed out and the prize goes to the slave-merchant with his guess of 3.25 inches. The horror of this hits me like a savage blow to the pit of my stomach. The dreadful thought that I must kneel before this repulsive man and service his cock is too awful for me to contemplate. My mind reels and panicking I look to my Master for salvation. However, the wide smile on his face and the amused look in his eyes tell me there isn't to be any. It is left to Daniel to express his bitter disappointment at loosing. "Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!" He exclaims petulantly, "I wanted to be the one to have Rafe take my cock in his mouth. Dammit!" "Oh come on Daniel!" Miles chides him "Don't be a sore loser. We all had an equal chance and Mr Schuster won - fair and square. You lost! Now be a good sport about it." "Miles, I like your sporting nature," my Master offers, "and I have a suggestion to make that I think will please you. My grandmother is having a `getting to know you' evening for our immediate neighbours. I'd like to invite you, Daniel and Jack to attend. Come along and I'm sure Rafe will be only too delighted to accommodate all three of you. Isn't that so, Rafe? You'd be happy to give your friends a BJ - for old times' sake, wouldn't you? What do you say Rafe?" What can I say? I'm only slave. My Master has offered to allow my friends to use me in a most obscene way and I really have no other recourse but to obey him. Through my tears, I choke out my whispered reply. "Yes, Master." "Oh come now Rafe, show a bit more enthusiasm than that. Why, I thought you'd be delighted with this chance to become re-acquainted with your former friends. Now let's hear your answer again and louder this time. You'll be happy to serve my young guests won't you, boy?" Fearing my Master's displeasure - and the cane - I reply in a louder voice. "Yes Master." "Yes what, Rafe?" Trapped, I answer, "Yes Master. I'll be happy to entertain your guests." "Good boy, Rafe. That wasn't too hard now, was it boy? There that's done." Then turning to Miles, Daniel and Jack he asks "Do you accept my invitation, boys?" All three noisily accept and profusely offer their thanks to this unexpected invitation from Guy Maratier. Lionel Schuster notes the invitation isn't extended to him and he seethes at the slight to his dignity. The bile burns at the back of his throat at Guy Maratier's public snub of him. What makes these young upstarts think they are socially superior to him? Why, if the truth be known - and with the obvious exception of the Maratier family - he is far wealthier than the families of the three younger men. Dealing in slaves may be frowned upon as disgraceful by the so called, upper echelons of society but it has made him enormously wealthy. Isn't it true that their wealth is also generated by their use of slave labour and they are always happy to attend his auctions looking for bargains among his stock? What then is the difference? At least he is open and upfront in what he does. He is jealous of his reputation of being scrupulously honest and fair in all his dealings with his customers and his reputation as a supplier of high quality stock to the discerning buyer is second to none. Why then is he never seen as an equal by the wealthy slave-holders? He boils with indignation and he needs to work out his anger. But as always, and in the interests of business, he must remain deferential to Guy Maratier and his ilk. He bites his tongue but someone must bear the brunt of his rage and frustration. Malevolently, he eyes the unhappy slave, Rafe standing quietly sniffling on the podium before him. Rafe still has much to endure in his inspection and Lionel silently vows the slave will suffer all the indignities he can heap upon him. . But the worst indignity is yet to come when, after his examination of the slave, the once proud, Lucien Barrois is made to kneel before him and take his cock into his unwilling mouth. Of course, the slave's master and former friends are unaware that he'd cunningly manipulated them into competing for the slave's favour and that he'd used his knowledge in correctly guessing the length of Rafe's tongue. They don't know that he's aware that the longest tongue is recorded at 3.86 inches. But then how many people would know the answer to this bit of useless trivia. He'd used this to out manoeuvre them in the guessing game. Slyly, he'd listened to their estimates and had then proffered his own winning one. He smiles inwardly at his wily out -foxing of them. He thinks of all the insults he'd silently endured at Lucien's hands and this latest snub by Guy Maratier galls him and adds to his hatred of the slave, Rafe. Now the tables have turned. It is payback time. Vengeance is sweet! To be continued............ The Jean-Christophe stories can be accessed by joining the archive group by http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

PHILLIP'S STORY Chapter 3: "Family Secrets" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) An archive of my stories can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect the integrity of this story and don't do any rewrites. Chapter 3: "Family Secrets" Both my father and my uncle Kyle bear a strong commitment to the concept of Black Rule. Indeed, when the two of them are together, it is the principal topic of conversation and they never tire of stating the true destiny of the `inferior white race' is to serve the vastly superior black race as their slaves. And their acceptance of it has all the conviction and fervour of a religious belief. Inevitably, through a process of osmosis, I have come to believe and accept it too. But until today, I had only ever viewed it as an intellectual concept and an academic argument without substance. In their wisdom, they'd considered me `too young' to grasp all the implications of Black Rule and they have carefully shielded me from its truth. To date, I have led a sanitised life of theoretical discussion without ever seeing its practical implications. But all that changed today. It is my eighteenth birthday and they have finally exposed me to the real meaning of Black Rule and it has manifested itself in the person of my Uncle Kyle's `white companion', Phillip. Today, on my eighteenth birthday, I have learned that my Uncle Kyle lives his life very much as a black Master with Phillip as his white slave. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Phillip has lived with my uncle for as long as I can remember and some years back - despite my father's efforts to keep the truth from me - I'd realised my uncle was gay and I assumed that Phillip was his partner. But given the strength of Uncle Kyle's views about the inferiority of the white race, I wondered how he reconciled this belief with his choice of a white partner. Initially, as a small boy, I'd liked Phillip. He was always kind to me and very attentive to all my needs. In fact, it would be fair to say Phillip, spoiled me rotten. Nothing was ever too much trouble for him and miraculously he had the happy knack of anticipating my every need. Very rarely did I have to ask him for anything. If I was thirsty or hungry, Phillip always knew and he provided me with a light snack of cookies and a glass of milk or something more substantial in the form of sandwiches and fruit juice. Phillip just `knew' my requirements and initially I marvelled at this. And if I swam in Uncle Kyle's pool - which I did at every opportunity - Phillip was always hovering close by keeping a watchful eye out for me by applying sunscreen to protect me from the sun or helping me out of the pool and drying me with a big, soft, fluffy towel. Because of his kindness to me, I was fond of Phillip in those early years and saw him as an `honorary uncle', albeit a white one. I was too young to understand that Phillip was serving me as his Master's slave. And of course, I didn't know that for Phillip to serve me in this way was a labour of love. I was his beloved Master's nephew and as such he saw this as his duty. Gradually, over time, my attitude to Phillip changed in unexpected ways. Eventually, my curiosity got the better of me and I began to ask questions about Phillip's place in my uncle's household. Even then, I was considered too young by my father to be told the `truth' about Phillip and he told me that Phillip was my uncle's servant. And that belief has stayed with me right up until today. After my father told me that Phillip was Uncle Kyle's servant, my attitude towards him underwent a marked change. I now saw him as nothing more than a menial servant and undeserving of my respect. My former affection for him dissipated and was replaced with an ill-concealed contempt and I suppose, over the intervening years, I treated Phillip abominably. Now, on my eighteenth birthday, I have been told the truth about Phillip. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I watch as Phillip moves around the dining table pouring freshly brewed coffee from a pot into our cups. I am entranced by him and I truly envy my Uncle Kyle his ownership of his white slave. Phillip is magnificent in his erotic nakedness; nakedness made all the more interesting by the red cane stripes on his plump, well-rounded ass cheeks and the angry imprints of his Master's hand superimposed over them. Somehow, those stripes and the handprints speak eloquently of his true status as Uncle Kyle's slave. Their obvious presence on his body define him for what he really is - a naked, white slave in servitude to a black Master. It seems entirely appropriate to me that Phillip wears the sign of his Master's displeasure on his body and I promise myself that whenever I own my own white slave boy his ass will be striped more often than it is unstriped. And I am surprising myself; just a few short hours ago I had no idea that Phillip was a slave - indeed I didn't know slavery existed other than in the theoretical discussions between my father and uncle. Now I have been made aware of it and I am `blown away' by the idea that I, as a black man, can own a white, slave boy of my own. How I hope that day isn't too long in coming. Beginning with my uncle, Phillip moves around the table pouring coffee. He moves from Uncle Kyle's place at the head of the table to my father sitting at the opposite end before moving around to my side. He pours my coffee from my left side and his close, naked proximity unsettles me. My poor cock, which has been teased almost beyond the limits of my endurance, once more springs to life and not for the first time today, I feel a slight dampness in my under briefs. Damn it!! But I just can't help myself. Phillip is so close that I can smell his intoxicating body odour. And I also detect something else that arouses me even further. His body is covered in a slight sheen of perspiration and his pheromones combine with the slightly scented sandalwood soap, and the subtly perfumed body cologne that he uses, to tantalise me even further. I wonder why Phillip is sweating. After all the room temperature isn't set too high and I would have thought it would be just right given that he is naked. Then it occurs to me that perhaps he is perspiring out of nervousness. Is Phillip sweating out of fear of his impending whipping? Tantalisingly, his ass is a few inches away from me and I can't resist the urge to reach out and trace the outline of the cane marks that criss-cross his buttocks. As I do so Phillip flinches involuntarily at my touch and he overflows my coffee cup into its saucer and onto the table. What happens next surprises me. Instinctively, I feel anger with Phillip and I slap his ass - hard - two or three times. The sound of my open hand striking his bare flesh echoes throughout the room and halts the discussion between my father and Uncle Kyle. Surprised they look up to see what has happened. But I think both are more surprised by my angry rebuke of Phillip. "Look what you have done, you stupid white slave." "I'm sorry, Sir Jon! Forgive me, Sir Jon." Phillip's tearful apology doesn't impress me and I continue my verbal abuse of him. "YOU CARELESS, DUMB ASS SLAVE!" I bellow at him, "NOW, CLEAN UP YOUR MESS. QUICKLY!" Phillip moves towards the kitchen but is halted by my angry question. "Where the Hell are you going? GET BACK HERE! NOW!" Poor Phillip halts in his tracks and looks back at me. If I wasn't so angry, I would see Phillip's distress and realise that my question only confuses him. "Sir Jon, I was going to the kitchen to fetch some paper towels to wipe up after my stupid mistake." "You don't need paper towels! Get back here!" "Sir Jon," Phillip is nonplussed by my command, "how do I wipe up the spilled coffee?' "You have a tongue, don't you? Well then - use it, boy and start licking up your mess." Phillip falls to his knees alongside of me and begins to lick up the coffee from the table and my saucer. I'm aware the silence in the room is broken by the sound of Phillip's slurping as he uses his tongue to do my bidding. I see my father and my uncle are watching Phillip and smiling. Embarrassed, I wonder have I overstepped myself. After all, Phillip is my uncle's slave and I have both slapped him and admonished him. Perhaps I have over reached in interfering with Phillip but what I have just done feels so natural. And so good! Nevertheless, I apologise to Uncle Kyle. His response is gracious and I'm surprised by his words. "Jon! You have no need to apologise. Your response to Phillip's carelessness is both natural and reasonable. I'm proud of you. Carry on!" I'm encouraged by Uncle Kyle and once again I deliver a few stinging slaps to Phillip's ass as he continues to clean up the spillage." "Hurry up, we haven't all night." Phillip is trembling uncontrollably and even though I can't see his face I know he is crying. The thought that both his trembling and his tears could be caused by his fear of me is so empowering and for the first time I feel that wonderful satisfaction that comes with controlling a white slave so completely. I watch the working of the muscles in Phillip's back as he bends over the table and I marvel at its unmarked smoothness. The perfection of his back will soon be marred by my uncle's whip and how I look forward to watching as he applies the lash to his careless slave. I now understand my uncle's earlier words about the punishment of a slave. And really, Phillip deserves his upcoming flogging. Phillip looks to me to inspect his work and I am satisfied. As he moves to stand, I slap his face and order him to remain his knees where he waits trembling for my next onslaught. "That's better! You know something boy? You are just a stupid, dumb ass, white, slave boy? Do you know that?" "Yes, Sir Jon." Phillip's answer is suitably subdued. "THEN TELL ME! WHAT ARE YOU?" "Sir Jon. I'm just a stupid, dumb ass, white, slave boy, Sir Jon." "I'm sure your Master and Sir Lachlan didn't hear you. I barely did! Now tell me what are you? AND TELL US LOUDER THIS TIME!" "SIR JON. I'M JUST A STUPID, DUMB ASS, WHITE, SLAVE BOY, SIR JON!" "That's better! With your Master's permission I might just call you `dumb ass' from now on." Poor Phillip! He looks the picture of misery. He is so crestfallen and he looks so forlorn. Still kneeling before me, his body shakes with emotion. Or is it fear of my anger? I would like to think so! But I still haven't finished with him yet. I lean forward and once more, I slap both sides of his face. "Get on your feet and fetch me a clean cup and saucer. And be quick about it." As Phillip scrambles to his feet and hastens towards the kitchen, I shout further instructions after him. "Dumb ass! I said be quick about it. Move your lazy white ass. RUN!" My father and my uncle break into loud laughter as they watch Phillip run from the room. It has to be said, Phillip moved with alacrity; in less than a 30 seconds he is back with a clean cup and saucer and he has filled it with fresh coffee. He waits until I dismiss him and he returns to my uncle's side and now stands in the modified slave position. "Well done, Jon! I'm proud of you. You certainly handled that situation with great finesse. I doubt that Phillip will ever take you for granted now that he knows what's in store for him should he displease you. Jon, today you have taken a big step forward in mastering a slave. You are a credit to the concept of Black Rule and I'm sure your father is as proud of you as I am. Isn't that so, Lachlan?" "Indeed I am Kyle! I didn't know Jon had it in him to be such a hard master. I'm proud of you, son" "And you worried that Jon might reject the whole notion of black supremacy." Uncle Kyle chuckles. "Lachlan, your fears were groundless. Your son does you credit." Naturally, I am delighted with my father's and my uncle's comments. Their approval means so much to me. And really today has been a day of self-discovery. So much of my inner self has been revealed and I have discovered my true nature. And I like what I am. I am a proud black man who now sees the inferior white race as subservient to my needs. I promise myself that I will have my own white slave as soon as it is practicable. Uncle Kyle hasn't yet finished with Phillip and as he speaks, I see Phillip's knees sag - just a little - and his face goes white. "Well Jon. Even though you handled Phillip's indiscretion admirably, I fear he is in need of more correction. He has displeased me once too often today and now he must pay the price for his earlier forgetfulness and his latest carelessness. Ten strokes of the whip should do the trick. What do you think, Jon?" "I think ten strokes would be most appropriate, Uncle Kyle." I'm flattered that my uncle has asked my opinion but then he goes on to say. "And Jon! In view of your firm handling of Phillip, I think it is appropriate that you should help in his punishment. Would you like to help in whipping him?" My uncle's question is unexpected and I stammer out my reply. "If you think I'm capable Uncle Kyle ...... Well.... yes, I'd like to try my hand with the whip. But I've never used one before." "Don't worry, Jon. I'll give you a demonstration in how to use the whip before I let you loose on Phillip. It's not difficult and after the first few strokes you'll soon have the hang of it. And anyway, how do you think your father and I learned how to whip a slave? We were like you once and your grandfather taught us. Now it is our turn to teach you. Are you up for it, Jon?" What can I say other than - "YES?" Uncle Kyle's admission that he and Dad had been taught to whip slaves by my grandfather shocks and intrigues me. My paternal grandparents live out of state on a large farming property several hundred miles from the city. This combination of distance and my father's work commitments mean that we are infrequent visitors to his parents. Thinking back, I recall that it was two years last Christmas since I had seen them. On that occasion, Uncle Kyle, Dad and I had driven down to spend Christmas with them. Like my father and Uncle Kyle, my grandfather, Terrel and grandmother, Laqueta are strong supporters of black supremacy and I remember the lively debates they had engaged in with my father and Uncle Kyle. All four had argued with such passion and strength of conviction that left me in no doubt about my own black superiority. As a sixteen year old - as I was then - I listened silently to their interminably long tirades against the white race and to be honest I found the subject bored me. I would much rather be back in the city with my friends. To my mind their arguments were academic and without substance. After all, one needs only to look around to see that commerce and politics are firmly invested in white hands and rail as much as he likes, the black man is at a disadvantage. Unfair as it is, the black man just doesn't compete on an even playing field. It's true that our society is an open one and espouses equal opportunities for all. However there is a big difference between the concept of this and its application. The reality is that the black man has to work much harder and draw deeper on his own resources to compete and to succeed in a white dominated society. Therefore his success is earned by his merit and it's not handed to him on a silver platter as is the case with so many whites. A black man can take justifiable pride in his achievements. He has truly earned his successes. I never considered myself as an `inferior' to the whites - indeed the seeds of my own `superiority' had been carefully planted by my father and Uncle Kyle during my childhood years. They lay dormant in the fertile soil of my young mind waiting for the first spring rains of my own `awakening' to the concept of Black Rule to germinate them. Today, with the revelation that Phillip is Uncle Kyle's white slave, it has rained and those seeds are now sprouting. My grandparents have a male field-hand to help around the farm and a woman to assist in the house. I'd never paid much attention to them but I believed they were husband and wife and I knew they were `long-time' employees who faithfully served my grandparents. And as is the case with Phillip, I'd only ever viewed them as servants. Now in light of what Uncle Kyle has just said about my grandfather teaching him to use the whip on a slave I am left to wonder about the `real' condition of my grandparents' workers. Are they also white slaves? The thought that this could be so excites me. I need to know more about my grandparents. "What are you saying, Uncle Kyle? Are you telling me that Grandma and `Pops' support the idea of you having Phillip as your white slave?" "Indeed they do, Jon. In fact, your grandmother helped to train Phillip when he first became my slave." To say I'm surprised by this is an understatement and I'm left wondering about how my grandmother trained Phillip. There is so much I don't know about my family - mostly my family interests are centred on my father and Uncle Kyle - and I want to know more. Indeed I want to know everything about my grandparents. Momentarily there is a pause in the conversation and as Uncle Kyle and my father exchange glances, I sense each is asking questions of the other. Their eyes meet and then I see my father's almost imperceptible nod of affirmation. Uncle Kyle takes a deep breath and continues. "Jon, there is something you need to know about yourself and your family. We have kept this from you until today, but your father and I feel the time is right for you to be told about your heritage." Uncle Kyle's cryptic words intrigue me. What else have they kept from me until today and what is it he is about to tell me? Is there some dark secret in the family's background? Or is there some skeleton hidden away in the family closet? I need to know. NOW! "What is it, Uncle Kyle? Please tell me. Don't keep me in suspense." "Jon, you are a member of a proud black family that has owned white slaves for several generations." "But I don't understand. How can our family be slave owners? Slavery is illegal, isn't it?" "Indeed it is Jon! Well at least officially. But there is also `unofficial slavery" which is very much alive and more widespread than most people realise. But it is very much underground so most are unaware of it. It is very much like the situation between Phillip and me. You weren't aware of it until today." That is true. But recently I have had my suspicions about Phillip. I saw him as a very submissive person who was under Uncle Kyle's domination and I assumed this was normal in a homosexual relationship. I'd been told he was my uncle's servant but I never saw him as a slave. That is until today when I'd been told the truth about Phillip's true relationship to my uncle. I am aware that there are `Masters and slaves' in the wider community. But I regard this as some kind of `kinky' sex where people engage in role play and it isn't real slavery. But now my father and uncle tell me that slavery is real and that we belong to a proud, slave-owning family. How can this be? Does that mean my grandparents' employees are in reality slaves? The thought that this could be so has an electrifying effect on my cock which once more it springs into prominence. "Uncle Kyle, what do you mean by saying the family are slave-owners? You said Grandma trained Phillip. I don't understand." "It's as I said, Jon. Your grandparents own white slaves and their parents owned white slaves before them. And their parents had white slaves before them. The family's ownership of white slaves goes back several generations. You are the latest in a long line of black superiors. And you should be proud of your family's heritage. Your father and I are very proud of our family's ownership of white slaves." Today has been a day of surprises. My eighteenth birthday is a day of revelations. I have learned things today that border on the incomprehensible. First, I learned that my uncle's partner/servant is in fact his slave and through that I have discovered my true self and it has awakened new emotions within me. My father and uncle have opened a door into a strange, new world. It is an exciting world and it beckons me to ........ `Come and explore'. If what they are telling me is true then all their discussions on Black Rule -the ones I'd considered as academic or boring - take on a new relevance. And I listen to Uncle Kyle's words with a new interest. "Jon, I know all this will come as a surprise to you. Indeed you're entitled to be surprised." "Dad..... Uncle Kyle, I'm confused! I know you are both ardent supporters of black supremacy. I know that! After all I've been listening to you two banging on about black superiority for as far back as I can remember. And I don't doubt the sincerity of your beliefs. But I'd always thought your arguments were theoretical and more in the nature of some intellectual discussion. Very much like `UFOs' and `black holes' that sort of stuff and I never took you seriously. Now you tell me my grandparents own slaves just like you do Uncle Kyle. How come I never knew this? Why did you wait until today to tell me?" "The decision not to tell you was mine, Jon." My father tells me. "And your uncle agreed with me. However, your grandfather wasn't happy with our decision. If he'd had his way you'd have always known he is the owner of white slaves. He has told us many times over the years that we were keeping you from your birth right. Perhaps he was right. But I wanted you to know a normal life before you were told. I wanted to raise you very much as other kids in the community so that when your uncle and I did tell you about the family you could make your own informed decision about what lifestyle you chose to follow. Your uncle and I didn't have that option and we felt it was important that you did. Does this make sense to you, Jon?" "Well, I suppose it does.... But what did you mean when you said you and Uncle Kyle didn't have an option? I'm still a little confused." "Put simply Jon, as both your uncle and I grew up we were served by naked, white slaves. There was never a time when your grandparents didn't own white slaves and as kids, the two slaves currently owned by your grandparents were there to wait on us and to cater to our every need. And your grandparents only moved within a circle of family and friends who owned white slaves. We never knew any other life. We never knew there was an alternative to living in a slave household. And when the time came for us to go into the wider world - to go to College and later when we started our careers - it came as something of a shock to know white servitude isn't universally practised. Can you understand that?" "Yes Dad! I do get that. You said you and Uncle Kyle were shocked when you realised that white servitude wasn't normal practise. But can you imagine my shock at learning it is practised within my family and I didn't know or even suspect that it was?" "Yes Jon, both your uncle and I do understand your surprise. Indeed we have discussed this matter many times over the years. In many ways it would have been easier to tell you all this years ago. But in all honesty, we felt we were acting in your best interests." "That maybe so Dad," I'm unhappy with my father's answer, "but I think I had a right to know these things and not to have been kept in the dark. I agree with my grandfather; I had a right to know." I know my father and Uncle Kyle love me - indeed in many ways their lives revolve around me - and I appreciate that their decisions regarding me are always made with the best of intentions. But to have kept this secret from me for so many years is monumentally wrong. And I am both disappointed and hurt. As my grandfather said; by not telling me they had denied me my family heritage. And what a heritage it is. I am so disappointed not to have shared in it before today Yet even though I am just now learning about it, I am also excited. The knowledge that Phillip is a white slave came as a surprise and that had excited me. But to hear that my family practise white slavery is a revelation and I want to know all about it. There are so many questions I need answers to. "Jon! Don't be hard on your Dad." Uncle Kyle's words are faintly reprimanding. "He acted with your best interests at heart. And I know you will realise this too when you have had time to digest all we have told you. Also remember that I share some of the responsibility. I agreed with your father. It would have been easier on every one if you'd known Phillip was my slave. I'm sure even Phillip would agree with me. Wouldn't you boy?" I'd forgotten about Phillip. But then it has always been easy to overlook him. I'd always regarded Phillip as a timid person - too shy to speak in company - and so in more recent years I have ignored him. Of course to day, I have learned the truth about Phillip's "shyness". "Yes Master." "Yes what, Phillip? You have my permission to speak. Tell Sir Jon what you think, boy." "Yes Master. Thank you, Master. Sir Jon I have always wanted to serve you as my Master's slave. But I never could. Master and Sir Lachlan ordered me to be discreet in how I served you. I was instructed by them to act as Master's servant and not as his slave. But Sir Jon....whenever you have visited, I have always wanted to kneel before you and kiss your feet in homage. It has been hard for me, Sir Jon, not to pay you the proper respect that I owe you as my Master's nephew. I am so happy that all that is behind us and I can now serve you as my Master's slave." Phillip's words are spoken from the heart and I am deeply touched by them. It would be so easy to forget he is only a slave and to thank him. But I resist the temptation and ignore him. Nevertheless, I do appreciate his sentiments and his gentle nature. They go some way to sweetening my sour disposition towards my father and uncle. Why even my displeasure with Phillip's earlier clumsiness is partly mollified and I almost wish that he be spared his whipping. But that would be going too far. The slave offended and he must be punished. Besides I'm looking forward to participating in his whipping and once more my cock jerks itself into prominence beneath the table at the very thought of the lash falling on Phillip's exposed back. And not for the first time today, I tell myself how fortunate Uncle Kyle is to own such a loving and devoted slave. "Jon, I guess there are many questions you want to ask of your father and me. Am I right?" "Yes Uncle Kyle. There are so many things I want to know." "Then fire away, Jon. Your father and I will answer all your questions. Isn't that so Lachlan?" "You said before that my grandparents own slaves and their parents before them. How long have the family been slave-owners?" "For a very long time, Jon. Almost a hundred years." "That long!" my exclamation is one of surprise. "Yes Jon, it is a long time isn't it? And it isn't only your grandparents who have slaves. The whole extended family members are slave-holders from way back. I told you earlier that yours is a long heritage and you should be proud of it. Our family has always been committed to the concept of Black Rule. And it isn't just an academic notion as you said earlier. We not only subscribe to the theory of black supremacy; we live it. And do so proudly!" I always knew I belonged to a large, extended black family who are spread widely throughout the country but I had only ever met a few of them - and then only briefly. I sometimes hear Dad and Uncle Kyle discuss an aunt, an uncle or a cousin who lives interstate. But they meant nothing to me. But now Uncle Kyle speaks as though they are all slave-owners. "Dad! Uncle Kyle! Are you telling me that it isn't only your parents who have slaves? That we have other relatives who own slaves too?" "Yes Jon, I am." My father answers. "All our uncles and aunts and cousins own slaves. Isn't that right Kyle?" "Jon, what your father is telling you is correct. When we were growing up all our relatives owned white slaves. And those who are alive still do." "This is incredible!" I'm sure the tone of my voice reflects my incredulity. "How many slaves do the family own? What numbers are we speaking of?" "It's hard to give a definitive number, Jon. Remember the family is scattered all over the country and we aren't in touch with them all. I remember your grandfather once mentioned that the extended family owned between thirty to thirty-five white slaves. But he said that was a conservative estimate and the numbers could be higher. We can only tell you of the ones that we know of." "Please Uncle Kyle tell me about them." "Well for a start there is Phillip and I have owned him for twelve years. And your grandparents have owned their two slaves for much longer. Those two served on the farm and in the household when your Dad and I were small boys. And there are other slaves. Your great uncle Maalik owns a white slave whose ancestors were themselves owners of black slaves back in the `Old South". Believe me that slave lives a hard life; he is certainly paying for the `sins of his fathers'. His Master works him hard and punishes him even harder. White slaves who are descendants from the old slave-owning families are highly desirable and it's prestigious to own such a slave. Their family histories make them quite valuable. Usually they live in `tough slavery' because their families once owned black slaves. They're made to pay a high price for that. " "And don't forget Uncle Fremont" My father breaks in." When he died a few years ago he bequeathed his male slave to his son Deion, our cousin, who now owns him together with a female slave just like Mom and Dad." "Yes I`d forgotten about that slave." Uncle Kyle recalls. "He is getting on in years now. I last saw him a few years ago when I was home visiting with Phillip. Uncle Fremont was staying with Mom and Dad at the same time. I remember Uncle Fremont telling me then that he'd owned the slave since he was aged in his twenties. I'm guessing the slave's age as somewhere in his fifties which means he's been an owned slave for about thirty years." "I can't recall that visit Kyle. How long were you home for?" "I was there for just a few days. But I'm sure it seemed longer for Phillip. Dad made good use of both Phillip and Uncle Fremont's slave. He had them work alongside his own male slave every day they were there. He worked all three of them so hard and he strapped their skinny white asses to keep them on their toes. But you know Dad, Lachlan. He isn't one to have a slave standing idly by. At the end of the day the three slaves were exhausted and still their chores weren't finished. They had to follow up with house chores. And of course, Mom didn't let up on them either. She supervised them and used her crop to good effect." "Yes! I know what you mean, Kyle. Mom was always very efficient at wielding her crop on a slave boy's skinny, white ass." Suddenly, Uncle Kyle begins to chuckle softly but soon breaks into laughter. Dad and I exchange glances and wonder what is amusing Uncle Kyle. Had Phillip done something to amuse his Master that we had missed? I look at Phillip but he is still standing perfectly still in the modified display position with his eyes firmly fixed on the table. His face is expressionless yet I sense he knows why his Master is laughing and I wonder if Uncle Kyle's humour is at his slave's expense. "Well come on Kyle. What's tickled your funny bone? Aren't you going to share the joke with Jon and me?" "Speaking of Mom and her crop just reminded me of an incident that happened during that visit. One evening, Dad, Uncle Fremont and I were having a quiet beer in the lounge before dinner. All four slaves were working in the kitchen - the three males were under the direction of the female slave - and Mom went out to check on them. I don't know what happened but suddenly all hell broke loose. Mom really let fly and chewed their asses as only Mom can do. All we could hear was Mom bellowing at them and the slap of her crop on their bare asses. Naturally we went out to see what all the fuss was about. The first thing I noticed was Mom laying into Phillip with her crop. She really had him hopping from leg to leg as she tanned his sorry ass for him. It was almost as though Phillip was dancing a jig. Poor Phillip! He looked so comical. Then she turned her crop onto the other two slaves and laid into them. Mom really excelled herself that night. But for Phillip, I'm sure it is a night to remember. Isn't that so boy?" "Yes Master!" Phillip's answer is eloquently simple yet there is something in it that tells me it is a night he'd rather forget. The vision of Phillip dancing a `jig' is a humorous one and Dad and I join with Uncle Kyle in his mirth. But a sideways glance at Phillip shows he doesn't share our good humour. His face is flushed and I wonder is he blushing from embarrassment as he recalls the humiliation of that occasion. I think even a white slave would be shamed at being so publicly punished by his black mistress. I am discovering so much about my grandparents. I am fascinated by them and I want to hear more. Uncle Kyle keeps referring to their `bare asses'. Does that mean their slaves are naked? I'm now aware that Uncle Kyle keeps Phillip nude and somehow it seems perfectly natural that he does so. But my grandparents are different. They are mature aged and wouldn't they draw the line at having their male slave walk around in the buff. And what about their female slave? Is she naked too? "Dad, are your parents' two slaves kept naked at all times?" "Yes Jon, those slaves never wear clothes. Nakedness is perfectly natural for them. Nudity is a slave's uniform so to speak." "Jon a slave would feel unnatural if he wore clothes." My uncle adds to my father's comments. "Look at Phillip. He's happiest without clothes and he always hated having to wear them when you came to visit. Telling you about Phillip's true status today is a big relief for your Dad and I and I know it is for Phillip too. From now on Phillip can be what he really is in front of you- a naked, white slave." "So when you and Phillip visit your parents, he is naked too?" "Always Jon. Your grandfather would NEVER allow a slave to wear clothes in his presence. If I dared to allow Phillip to wear clothes in front of your grandfather, he'd chew my ass and punish Phillip." But why would he punish Phillip? After all, Phillip would only wear clothes if you ordered him to. Surely, it wouldn't be Phillip's fault?" "Ahh Jon! That's a distinction your grandfather wouldn't make. In his thinking, the slave is always at fault and never the Master. No he'd take Phillip down to the barn, string him up to the rafters and whip him severely. Jon there is one thing you need to remember about your grandfather. He is very hard on his slaves. He disapproves of my lenient treatment of Phillip. He thinks I am `too soft' in my handling of my slave. Which I suppose is true. I do feel tenderness towards Phillip which shows in my treatment of him." The mention of my grandfather taking Phillip to his barn and whipping him reminds me that Phillip is to face another whipping that I will have a hand in. Beneath the table and obscured from the view of my father and uncle, my undisciplined cock `tent poles' the front of my jeans and my wetness tells me I am leaking. "Uncle Kyle did granddad ever whip Phillip?" "Yes he has Jon. At the very beginning, during Phillip's initial training, I recall your grandfather took Phillip down to the barn and `whipped him good'. That was a severe whipping and it's one I haven't allowed to be repeated. Whenever your grandfather whips Phillip, I do restrict him in his use of the whip. Your grandfather is very heavy handed with the whip. His own slave is testament to that isn't he Lachlan?" "Yes he is Kyle. Do you remember how Dad taught us how to whip his slave and how he allowed us to `practise' on him? Remember how the slave used to beg for mercy. That always amused me. The slave knew only too well that once the `old man' had strung him up there'd be no mercy shown. And yet he'd still beg." "Ahh yes Jon! Your Grandfather is a hard man on his slaves. But I guess you'll find that out for yourself soon enough. Now that you know you come from a slave-owning family, your father and I will have to arrange a visit down to the farm. Your grandfather will be absolutely delighted to learn that we have told you all about the family's white, slave-owning history. What do you say, Lachlan?" "Most definitely, Kyle. I'm long overdue for a visit. We should schedule it soon. What do you say, Jon?" In the past, the prospect of visiting my grandparents' farm had never appealed to me. I had found those visits tedious. Now however, the prospect of visiting them has taken on a new focus. I am anxious to see how a slave farm functions. And I am eager to see how my grandparents control their slaves. "Yes please Dad. Can we make it soon? And Uncle Kyle, can we take Phillip along too? I'd be keen to see how Granddad would work him." "Don't worry Jon. Phillip will most definitely be accompanying us. He's not to be left out on our trip to your grandparents." I look in Phillip's direction. Phillip has been trained by my uncle not to show emotion. But I do see the quick intake of his breath and the ever so slight trembling of his limbs. Somehow, I suspect Phillip is less than enthusiastic about our visit to my grandparents' farm. I wonder why? I still have questions I need to ask and answers I want to hear. To be continued.............

The Judas Slave A Short Story This is a story of erotic slavery. It contains sexual references and is meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years. Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris): August, 2012 Read all my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without his permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures." Note: I have read that, in the past, some abattoirs used a tamed sheep called a Judas sheep to both calm those unfortunate animals waiting to be butchered and to lead them docilely through the pens and up the ramps into the slaughterhouse. Whilst for the Judas sheep there'd be no sense of betrayal, I couldn't help but wonder how it would feel for a slave to act out in a similar role as his less fortunate brethren were processed into their slavery. The following is my imagining of such a situation. - Chris Judas: To the overseers and their attendants at the slave processing center I am known as "Judas" but I suppose those who know what I do have far worse names for me. Like the Judas sheep, that leads its unfortunate companions through the yards and up the race into the slaughterhouse, it is my job to calm the new slaves brought here for processing and to lull them into accepting that all is well. I'm not sure why I'd been chosen for this job. Perhaps it was my acquiescence and docility that singled me out from my fellow slaves the day I was brought here from the courts to be processed into slavery. For whatever reason, I was chosen by the head overseer to perform this job which makes the slave-handlers' work so much easier. That was some six months ago and I can still remember the apprehension and terror I'd felt as the gates into the processing center clanged noisily shut behind the slave transporter which had delivered me here. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> The journey from the courts to the center had been surreal. Like my fellow slaves, I'd stood dismally and peered in disbelief out through the bars of the transporter into the hustling activity of the city streets. I held onto the bars grimly and thought of how normal and familiar it all looked. Outside of the prison van all was as it should be and nothing had changed. And yet within the cramped confines of the transporter the world had altered irrevocably for those of us destined for our new uncertain futures as slaves. Slavery is very much a part of modern life and it permeates our society with its greed and vileness. Slaves exist everywhere. They are at the centre of our lives as house-servants and they work at the periphery as labourers on our farms and in our factories. Indeed my own widowed father had owned many slaves who toiled unremittingly to enrich him. He'd been a successful manufacturer who owned several medium sized workshops and a hobby farm which also served as a tax-fiddle that was ultimately to be his nemesis. Unfortunately, his greed was his undoing; he was investigated and found to be falsifying his taxation returns. This inevitably meant the seizure of all his property and the forfeiture of his freedom - and mine. I am an only child and my mother died giving birth to me. My father was too busy to spend much time with me and I grew up in the care of his slaves who doted on me and pandered to my every whim. My father tried to compensate for his lack of attention - to the point of overcompensation - and spared nothing in indulging me. I wanted for nothing and I attended the most prestigious private school in the city where I was tutored to be the best that I could be. I'd finished school and was spending the long summer vacation before commencing college when my father's world - and mine - came crashing down. I had no knowledge of my father's tax evasion and therefore I had no warning when we were taken into custody and charged with defrauding the government. Despite the fact, that I played no part in my father's business ventures, the prosecution argued that I was a beneficiary of his fraud and should be judged along with him. The presiding judge concurred with this and I stood in the dock with my father as we were both found guilty and sentenced to lifelong servitude. We were led from the dock and taken in two separate directions. I watched as my father was dragged struggling from the court still protesting his innocence. That was the last time I saw my father and I don't know what became of him. As a felon convicted of defrauding the government, he automatically became a publicly owned "servant of the state". Obviously he now serves as a naked slave used on public works but where I have no idea. Numb with disbelief and almost paralysed with fear, I was lead from the court and placed in a slave transporter with some twenty to thirty others who were to share my fate. We were to be delivered immediately to the city's slave processing center where we would be made ready for the weekend's slave auctions. In our society, the law moves swiftly and mercilessly in dealing with those sentenced to slavery! The journey from the court precincts to the processing center is a short one - probably it was no more than a thirty minutes' drive. But that fateful day, as I peered out through the bars of the van, it seemed interminable. I looked with envy at those free citizens bustling through the city's streets and sadly understood that I no longer belonged to their free society. I saw gangs of municipally owned slaves working to maintain the streets, sidewalks and public spaces in good order and I wondered if I would join such a gang and be made to work, naked, branded and collared under the cruel lash of an indifferent foreman. I sincerely hope not. I have thought of those gangs many times over the past six months and I wondered if my former father works under such conditions. I refer to him as my former father for the simple reason that slaves aren't allowed any familial ties. I saw other slaves attending their Masters and Misters and walking the mandated three paces of respect behind their owners. I heard the soft patter-patter of running feet and the clattering of steel-rimmed wheels striking the cobblestoned roadways as slaves in harness drew their owners' rickshaws behind them. In that short drive from the courts to the center, I caught images of the life that now possibly awaited me. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> As the tall, iron gates closed behind us, the transporter came to a halt. Waiting to unload us were overseers armed with whips and taser guns who wasted no time in hurrying us out of the van. Confusion reigned as we were shouted at and abused to climb out of our temporary prison. Bewildered, we tumbled out of the back onto the ground where we were ordered to our feet and made to toe a yellow line. Soon we stood in a single line and waited. I sensed the fear in the young men on either side of me. Like me they were trembling uncontrollably. A burly overseer stood before us - at his side was an elderly, forlorn and naked slave who wore an apprehensive expression - and he sneeringly told us that we were slaves and would remain so until we died. He reminded us that because we were court-sentenced we would never qualify for manumission. He told us to prepare our minds for our new fates whilst he and his assistants prepared our bodies for slavery. He told us he and his overseers wouldn't tolerate any resistance or displays of disobedience. He warned that instant and unquestioning compliance with all the orders given by our slave handlers was obligatory and that any truculence on our parts would be severely punished. And to emphasise this, he withdrew his taser gun from its hip holster and applied it to the ass of the slave standing at his side. None of us were prepared for the miserable slave's wild shriek of pain-filled agony. It appeared to us that the slave had been reduced to a trembling, jellylike mass of flesh. He fell to the ground and at first he thrashed around wildly. His contorted limbs seemed to be disembodied and to take on lives of their own and to work independently of one another. We watched the unhappy slave's suffering with mounting horror and were sickened by the sight and smell of him uncontrollably voiding his bladder and bowels as he writhed on the cobblestones. Gradually, the wild convolutions of body and limbs subsided until the slave lay twitching on the ground at the overseer's feet. The slave's suffering was a potent warning to all of us of what to expect should we offer any resistance to the slave handlers. We had learned our first lesson. The chief overseer gave the order to us to: "Shuck as naked as the day you were born and stand at attention against the yellow line and to be quick about it". My fear of the taser gun was such that I was the second to comply with the order to strip naked; only one other, standing at the end of the line, was faster than me. Within a minute, I stood rigidly at naked attention while most of my companions were still struggling out of their underwear. I was unaware that my willing obedience had attracted the attention of the chief overseer. And I was totally unprepared when acting on his instructions; another overseer removed me from my position approximately midway along the line of naked, young men and placed me second in line next to the one who'd beaten me to undress. Furtively, I stole a sideways glance at the slave. He was aged somewhere in his early to mid-twenties and I remember thinking I'd not noticed him in the transporter that delivered us from the courts to the center. But then I reminded myself that amid the confusion and fear that I'd felt this wasn't altogether surprising. As we stood side by side, I wondered of what crime he'd been convicted. Somehow, he didn't strike me as the violent type. In fact, he was quite the opposite; he seemed most complacent and docile. He stood facing the front and I couldn't help but notice his composure. By comparison, I and the slave, who stood on my opposite side to him, violently trembled from a combination of raw fear and uncertainty while he stood serenely calm. This really surprised me. Surely he shared in the traumatic events enveloping the rest of us. He aroused my curiosity as I studied him in more detail. He was a cock-stirringly handsome slave with an impressive physique; his musculature was clearly defined and yet lacked the "overblown" development of a body builder. I saw him as a house slave - perhaps even as a pleasure slave - and I'm sure that this would be his future role in the service of his new owners. He turned towards me and noticed that I was scrutinizing him. Embarrassed at being caught out and worried that he might think I was lasciviously "perving" on his nakedness, I had the decency to blush profusely and to avert my gaze. But he seemed unfazed by my actions and smiled at me. Somehow that smile and his air of complacency soothed my overwrought nerves and calmed me and I responded positively to him. I was unaware he was a "Judas slave" and that he was simply performing his duties to calm any new arrivals and to lead them through the various stages of their induction into slavery. Later, I will learn that the "Judas slave" enjoys immunity from the more extreme form of violence which all new slaves are subjected to during their processing. For example, he isn't branded and he is left uncollared. These things are left undone deliberately so as not to arouse the suspicions of the new arrivals; his unmarked body suggests to them that he is a new arrival just like them. What I didn't know was that a "Judas slave" lived a life of comparative privilege - well as privileged as a slave's life can be - and that he was rewarded for his hoodwinking of his fellow slaves with a warm stall with dry, straw bedding and a generous food allowance. Prior to the arrival of any new batch of prisoners from the courts, he is given clothes to wear and while the new arrivals are unceremoniously unloaded, he is surreptitiously imbedded among them and they are none the wiser. They simply see him as a one of them. He takes his place at the head of the line and follows the overseers' commands quickly and efficiently setting an example for the rest to follow. Of course, the traumatized new arrivals, seeking re-assurance, take their lead from the Judas slave and blindly follow behind. Perhaps it is the "herd mentality" in all of us that makes us amenable to this. But our willingness to be easily led is exploited by the overseers and to this end, the services of a Judas slave is invaluable. When we were naked we were ready to be processed into our new slavery. This is something with which I was completely unfamiliar. Of course, I knew of the slave processing plant where the newly enslaved are made ready for auction - well didn't everyone? Everyone knows of the grim, brick building whose barred windows look inwards into a central courtyard and not onto the street. There are no signs advertising its true purpose or of what goes on behind the high, brick walls topped with razor-sharp wire. I'd passed the center many times over the years and never given it a second glance. And needless to say, I'd never given any thought to the wretched convicts who found themselves condemned to slavery and were sent there for processing. I mean, slavery is always something that happens to others - never to you - and it serves them right too. After all, slavery doesn't happen to the law-abiding, upright citizenry and I'd never felt any sympathy for those, who through their stupidity or law-breaking, were sent there. Or so I'd always thought. That is - until that fateful day! I considered myself innocent of any wrong doing and yet I was there waiting to be quickly processed into slavery. My only crime was that I was my father's son and therefore "guilty by association" with him in his crime of tax avoidance. I was paying a high price for my father's culpable greed and stupidity. Processing is an unhappy euphemism and it is used to disguise the cruel chain of events which turn free men into abject slaves. Yet, the actual process of preparing one for auction is minimal. The authorities, in their wisdom, consider it only necessary to strip the new arrival naked, to take steps to ensure that he is free of all vermin and parasites, to collar him and give him a new numbered identity, to subject him to a cursory medical examination that both measures and weighs him and to inoculate him against tetanus and pneumonia. These are the least traumatic of the events that confront the new arrival. When that is done, the new slave is questioned, photographed and catalogued for his sale by auction. However, there is worse to follow. Finally, there is the mandatory branding with a red hot iron. So, in effect, the new slave is sold "au naturel". He is allowed to retain his body hair and if he is uncircumcised, then his foreskin as well. This way, his new owner buys the slave very much "as is" which allows him to modify his new purchase to meet his particular needs. All the reputable slave clearing-houses and salesrooms offer comprehensive after-sales services on all the slaves they sell. For a discounted fee, the purchaser can choose to modify his new slave from a whole range of options. These include additional branding, foreskin removal, infibulation, ringing and piercing and, of course, permanent hair stripping. The buyers' options are limited only by his imagination and usually, a complimentary, thirty days, aftersales service is offered with the purchase of every new slave. This way, the buyer can take his slave home and carefully consider what modifications - if any - he wishes to make to his slave within that thirty days period. But as I waited alongside the Judas slave, I was oblivious to all this and I was plagued by the uncertainty of what was to happen to my fellow slaves and me. Therefore, it was very comforting to see his quiet composure and his acceptance of the situation that confronted the rest of us. Somehow, his calm attitude re-assured me and stilled my frayed nerves and I drew strength from him. And wasn't this the point of the whole exercise? In doing this, the Judas slave was just fulfilling his role to the overseers. Suddenly, the chief overseer gave the order for us to move forward. Without hesitation, the Judas slave walked towards a strange, circular, cement structure in one corner of the yard. Without a second thought, I followed him and those behind me fell into step. As we approached the structure an overseer opened a gate into it and we filed in, one behind the other. Once inside, I recognized the structure for what it was; it was a spray bath of the type used by farmers to delouse their animals. My father had installed one on his farm and I'd seen it used on his animals on numerous occasions and so I was prepared for what would happen. Once we were all inside, the overseer slammed shut the gate and we were imprisoned. The circular interior was made entirely of cement - I knew the absence of corners and sharp edges was deliberately planned to prevent any panic-stricken animals from bunching up and injuring themselves - and I supposed this same principle applied to slaves. We were cramped for space and forced to huddle so close together that our naked bodies touched. In the past, my own nakedness or that of others had never unduly worried me. At school, I'd played football and rowed so I was used to seeing naked, male bodies as we cavorted under the showers after a fiercely contested game or a strenuous rowing session on the water. But this was different! Our nakedness that day wasn't of our choosing and it had been forced upon us. It reduced us to the level of animals and I'm sure we all felt it most acutely. Overcome with shame, we all sought to avoid contact with one another. None of us wanted to touch another's body or to feel a semi-tumescent cock pressing up against our bare asses and we milled around in a vain attempt to avoid touching our fellow slaves. Timidly, I pushed my way through the heaving mass of masculinity to where the Judas slave was placidly standing near the entrance gate and I positioned myself next to him. Already, I was finding comfort in the calm exterior that he exuded and I needed to be close to him. He noticed me yet again and smiled reassuringly at me. From past experience, I knew what to expect - although I doubt that too many of my fellow slaves did - and I heard the whirring sound of electric pumps starting up. I knew there were fine mist nozzles imbedded in the concrete floor and walls and overhead there was a criss-cross pattern of galvanized pipes also fitted with downward pointing sprays. The sound of the pumps working silenced my companions and no doubt they worried about what was to happen. At first, a dribble of spray drifted down onto our heads and then the remaining nozzles spluttered to life. There was no escaping the spray; from every side - and from both above and below - our naked bodies were assailed with a myriad of needle-sharp jets of a foul-smelling mixture. It stung our bodies and there was no escaping it; we were powerless to avoid it. All we could do was to close our eyes and mouths and to suffer as best we could. I'm not sure for how long we were in the spray bath but it did seem like an eternity. My body was soon saturated and the liquid spray ran in fast flowing rivulets down over the plains and valleys of my body and pooled around my feet. Then as suddenly as they'd started, the pumps stopped. Now, the silence was broken by the fizzing sound of the nozzles shutting down and the soft splat-splat of liquid dripping from the overhead pipes onto our naked shoulders and heads. We were left standing in the bath for several minutes to allow any excess liquid to drain off our bodies and then the gate was thrown open and we were ordered out and told to toe the yellow line once more. There, we were left to drip-dry in the late afternoon sunlight. As our bodies dried, two things happened. Firstly, beginning with Judas, each of us was given a capsule and a small amount of water to help us in swallowing it. Of course, we weren't told the capsule's purpose only that we must swallow it. And fearing the taser gun, none of us dared refuse. We didn't know that it was called a "drench" and was used to rid us of any internal parasites although I guessed as much. My experience with my father's hobby-farm practices and animal husbandry told me that during our time in the bath we'd been deloused and that the capsule was to rid us of any intestinal parasites. Obviously, this was a necessary procedure in preparing us for sale; whenever we were sold, the auctioneer could confidently tell the buyers: "The stock in today's offering is guaranteed to be vermin free." The second thing to happen as we toed the yellow line was that each of us was fitted with a collar. Again beginning with Judas, the overseers swiftly and efficiently placed a stainless steel collar around the neck of each new slave. I watched as Judas submissively bowed his head to receive his collar. Of course, I didn't know this was a charade to lull the rest of us into complacency and acceptance. At the end of our processing, when the rest of us were safely locked in the holding-pens, the collar would be removed from Judas and only brought out for use with the next batch of new arrivals. Once more, I took my lead from the Judas slave and meekly bowed my head as the collar was locked around my throat. It has to be said the snug fit and the weight of the collar did a lot to convince me of my new slave status. I noticed the collars were numbered; the purpose of which wasn't immediately clear to me but would become so very shortly. I was to learn these were our new, digitized identities and they'd be used to identify us in future. We'd been stripped of our birth names and they'd been replaced by numerals. Any names given to us in the future would be the gifts of our new owners. My number was 0812/1473. At first, these numbers looked meaningless to me but I underestimated the efficiency of the state slave system. The first four numbers tell the observer that I was enslaved in August, 2012 and the last four numbers that I was the one thousand, four hundred and seventy-third of the current year to have been sentenced through the courts. Then, it was time for the next phase in our processing - our medical examinations. These were conducted by an elderly, slightly inebriated medical officer with a florid complexion, a spider-web veined, bulbous nose and who reeked of cheap, store-brand liquor. Certainly, he gave the impression he'd rather be anywhere else other than here handling a new batch of naked slaves. His disinterest in us was plainly evident, his whole attitude was one of boredom and his examinations were cursory. Helping him was a middle-aged, balding slave of non-descript appearance and a sorrowful expression. When the slave turned his back to me, I saw that his ass was heavily striped from a very recent, savage caning. Perhaps he had every reason to look sorrowful! Naturally, the doctor began with the Judas slave and I watched with interest knowing that I would be next. When it was my turn, he disinterestedly used a stethoscope to check my cardio-vascular system before he visually searched for any imperfections such as scar tissue, evidence of ill-mended broken bones and hernias. I obviously passed this first test for then he went on to physically examine me. His hands swept down over my body pausing to gauge a bicep or to poke a finger in my navel. He cupped my balls in his gnarled hand and ordered me to "cough"- several times. He manipulated my cock, stretching it out from my body and pushing my foreskin back along the shaft to expose my glans. He squeezed my piss-slit and I rewarded him with an almost instantaneous erection. He turned me and examined my back before he ordered me bend at the waist and pull my ass-cheeks apart exposing my hole to his scrutiny. I gasped as his bony finger thrust through my puckering sphincter and teased my prostate. Dismissively, he slapped my buttocks and told me to: "Stand up straight and face the front." He examined my eyes, ears and nose before he instructed me to open my mouth. He used his finger to check out the soundness of my tongue and teeth. I wondered - was this the same finger that had just been thrust up my ass? He ordered me to open my mouth "wider" and used a wooden spatula to hold my tongue in place as I said "AAHHH!!" Not once but several times. Finally, he callously administered my injections and then I was weighed and measured by his slave assistant and sent to stand alongside of Judas. Despite the fact that the medical officer's examination of me was cursory, I still felt acute embarrassment and shame. That was the first of many examinations that I have been subjected to on a daily basis over the past six months and I always feel the same. I have never adjusted to them. I passed my medical and I simply followed Judas to the penultimate phase of my processing. This was a verbal interview with a slave-clerk who asked for my full name, date of birth, last place of residence, education and what skills I possessed. My answers were simple. Essentially, I am a well-educated, eighteen year old, new slave without any skills. I was keenly aware that this limited my options somewhat. Without any worthwhile skills, my appeal to the buyers rested solely on my youthful body and my good looks. I had no doubts that these would be put to good use by my new owner. The slave-clerk photographed me and placed this, together with my answers, into a computer database under my new slave identity, 0812/1473. And between now and my scheduled sale-date, this information will be included in a buyer's catalogue and listed on the internet. I followed Judas back to the yellow line and waited there as the rest of my companions in misery were given their medical examinations and interviews. Once the last slave returned we were ready for the final procedure in our processing. Fortuitously, none of us had any inkling of the trauma that awaited us. Up to that moment, all that had happened to us had been humiliating but comparatively benign and I supposed we'd been lulled into accepting that things could be worse. And most of the credit for our state of mind must go to the Judas slave. His calm demeanour had soothed us and we were glad to take our lead from him. So much so, that when the head overseer gave him an instruction to walk over to a narrow wooden door set in a solid brick wall, none of us thought twice about following him. As Judas approached, an overseer opened the door for him to enter and we followed blindly behind him. Too late, I saw that we were in a long, narrow enclosure just wide enough to accommodate us. It reminded me of the animal crush-race that my father's farm workers had used for the branding and dehorning of cattle and the irony of this wasn't lost on me. Indeed, I recall thinking to myself that there was little difference between those cattle and me. Like them, I and my companions were seen merely as another form of livestock and treated as such by our handlers. Instinctively, I knew I should be afraid and yet, Judas serenely walked the full length of the race and stood expectantly before an exit door identical to the one we'd entered through. I just followed! But I did wonder what was on the other side of that door? We were left in a limbo of uncertainty for several minutes during which time we were prodded forward and made to bunch up so tightly that our bodies were tightly compacted. I found myself pushed hard against Judas so that my chest and belly were touching his back and the rounded curves of his ass fitted neatly into my groin area. Similarly my own ass adjusted to the body contours of the slave immediately behind me. And despite my apprehension, I felt the swelling of my incipient erection as my cock sought to settle itself between the cheeks of Judas's ass. There was method in this. We could neither move backwards nor turn. There was only one way out of the race and that was to move forward to whatever waited for us on the other side of the exit door. Such close proximity - and our nervousness - soon had all of us sweat slicked. Our nakedness in such an erotically charged situation quickly had all of us mightily aroused and I could feel the almost red-hot heat of a hard, throbbing cock pulsing suggestively against my ass. I'd long accepted my homosexuality and I'd frequently used the more comely, younger, male slaves in my father's household for sex. I was deliciously sandwiched between Judas's nakedness and that of the new slave immediately behind me and I lasciviously savoured the moment. But my pleasure was short-lived; the door in front of us was opened and an overseer used the end of his whip-handle to prod Judas and me through into a small room. Waiting for us were two burly overseers and their two slave assistants. The room was dominated by a stout, wooden bench which stood at its center. But the thing that I noticed the most was the overpowering, stale smell of charred meat you'd associate with a barbecue. I guess it took several moments for these two things to register in my mind. But inevitably, the penny did drop and I recognized that I was in the branding chamber. As my eyes widened in horror, I looked around for a brazier of red-hot coals that one usually associates with the branding of slaves. But there wasn't a brazier; instead I saw an electric branding-iron glowing with orange-red intensity. And in the momentary lapse of my shocked silence, I heard the metallic clicking of the iron's thermostat as it cycled through its heat temperature settings. The effect of this on me was immediate! My cock drooped and hung limp as my balls automatically contracted back into the safety of my fast-shrivelling scrotum. I felt sick in the stomach and my bladder suddenly ached for release. My bowels turned to water and my knees buckled. And I began to sweat more profusely. My branding was imminent and I was terrified. I fell to the floor and curled my body into the foetal position and I heard my pleading to the overseers not to brand me. Meanwhile, Judas had taken up a position against a wall from where he would watch as I was branded. But my fears were unfounded. I wasn't to be branded that day. The overseers had other plans for me. Instead of coming for me, the two slave assistants took hold of Judas. At first, he was uncomprehending but inevitably he understood what was happening. His time as the "Judas slave" was at an end and he was to be replaced by me. He began to plead and soon his pleading turned to begging. As he was dragged kicking and screaming to the branding-table, his wild entreaties went unheeded. When the two slaves lifted him bodily and belly-flopped him on the table's hard wooden surface he began to sob. No one listened. Naturally, I was unaware of what was happening - I still thought of Judas as one of the group which had accompanied me from the courts to the processing center - and I watched in fascinated horror as he was prepared for his branding. At that stage, I fully expected to follow him onto the table within a few short minutes. But my relief was palpable. I was to be spared the branding-iron for a little while longer. And how I savoured my respite; as brief as it might be. The overseers and their slaves worked methodically and swiftly. The slaves stretched Judas's body out to its full length and fastened his wrists and ankles into leather restraints at each end of the table. Next, heavy, leather straps, securely anchored to the table top, were buckled around Judas's upper back, his waist and his thighs just below his ass. As the leather straps were tightened around Judas's torso, he was completely immobilized and the only movements these bindings permitted were the panicky rise and fall of his chest from his ragged breathing and the nerve-quivering of his flanks. Judas continued to loudly beg and he was rewarded with a series of hard slaps to his heaving ass. As the sound of a bare hand meeting naked flesh echoed around the room, an overseer ordered him to. "Quieten down! You're time here is done and you're being sent for sale so let's get you branded quickly and into a pen." This did quieten Judas; his loud protests subsided into body convulsing sobs as his terror-filled eyes followed the overseers' movements. Judas turned his head to the side and watched as one overseer retrieved the branding iron. Once more, panic took hold of him and he began to plead piteously to be spared. The second overseer, in an effort to calm him, stroked his back and gently patted his ass and tried to re-assure him: "Settle down! It'll all be over in a minute. Now, take a deep breath and hold it!" From my position on the floor I watched in horror as the Judas slave was branded. As he felt the heat of the approaching iron, his entreaties grew more desperate. "No! No! Please don't brand me? I don't want to be branded. Let me go, please?" I heard the sizzling sound as the branding iron seared itself in the slave's left flank and my sense of smell was overwhelmed by the sickening stench of scorched flesh. As Judas's pain-filled scream reverberated around the closed confines of the branding-room, my raw, nerve-edged emotions were overwhelmed by my own terror. I was convinced that my branding was imminent and defensively I curled myself into a tight ball against the wall. As the overseers released Judas from the branding table, their slave assistants approached me. As Judas clambered down, I saw the angry, raw letter "S" - for slave - brand which he'd now wear on his left buttock in perpetuity as the visible mark of a common slave. The two slave assistants hauled me to my feet and as I struggled in their firm grasp, I lost control of my bladder and I pissed myself. Unreasoning fear was the raw emotion uppermost in my thoughts and I felt absolutely no shame or humiliation because of my untimely mishap. From somewhere deep within me, I found hidden reserves of strength to resist my captors. I tried to dig my heels into the floor but they couldn't find any purchase on the slippery, tiled surface. Still, I was determined to fight them as they dragged me to the branding-table. But, again I was wrong! Instead of taking me to the table, they dragged me out of the branding room through a door and into an area of open-fronted, barred holding pens each capable of holding ten inmates. The overseers placed Judas in the first pen and as the door slammed shut behind him, he collapsed onto the straw-strewn floor and wept softly. I can only imagine the pain he felt as a result of his branding. However, my gratitude at being spared the branding iron was greater than any sympathy I felt for him. My self-preservation was uppermost in my mind. I was unaware of his history and I still thought of him as one of my group of new slaves brought here for processing. I didn't know that for the past six months he'd been used to lull all new arrivals into a false sense of security that made them more tractable for the slave handlers to manage. That had been his task and he'd performed it most admirably. For the past six months, he'd lived in a limbo of uncertain hope. His time as the "Judas slave" had left him complacent and with the hope that the status quo would continue indefinitely. But there are no absolutes in a slave's life. Things can change without warning. That morning, Judas had awakened to a new day and was made ready for the arrival of a new batch of candidates for enslavement. There'd been no plans on the part of the head overseer to replace Judas. That is until my arrival. The head overseer had recognized my timidity and docility and these had marked me as an ideal Judas slave. My ready willingness to obey an order had convinced him that the time was right to replace the current Judas with a new one. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> That was six months ago and I sometimes wonder whatever became of my predecessor. Without doubt, he was sold along with those who'd travelled with me from the courts to the processing center. But who bought him and for what purpose? These are questions that will never be answered. My time as the Judas slave has been easy. I am well-treated by the overseers and indeed my relationship with them is similar to that of a favourite pet. And in many ways this is what I am. I work closely with them to allay the suspicions and fears of any new arrivals and they value my contributions to their work. I have my own stall in which I sleep and the only overnight restraint used on me is a long ankle chain. My straw bedding is changed regularly and I am given two more than adequate meals of slave gruel a day so I never suffer hunger pangs. Often at lunch time, as I sit at their feet, the overseers will toss me the crusts from their sandwiches and the occasional piece of fresh fruit. These titbits are always welcome and provide a tasty alternative to the blandness of my slave diet. In return, I willingly co-operate with the handlers and whenever a new transporter arrives from the courts, I am given clothes to wear and I am secretly imbedded among the new arrivals. Then, I draw on my experiences of my own first day as I lead the unsuspecting victims through the processing routines. Do I feel guilt or a sense of betrayal at doing this? Not really! At first I did but this soon passed. Now I see it as more of a kindness to the new arrivals. I am only too familiar with the heartbreak that accompanies a court verdict for enslavement. If, through my efforts as the Judas slave, I can lessen the trauma of that and to make it easier for the new slave in his transition from lost freedom to bitter servitude, then I am fulfilling a useful purpose. And my overseers would also agree that I lighten their workload. But this is tempered with the knowledge that my position here is only temporary and that one day, like my predecessor, I will be replaced. I won't be given any warning and the first inkling that my life is about to change yet again will be when I am placed on the branding-table. Already, I have served as the Judas slave for six months and I know that any day now I could be replaced. And then, like my predecessor I will be sent to the auction-block. Of course, I worry about this. What slave faced with the prospect of being sold doesn't concern himself with his future? And naturally, I sometimes worry about who'll buy me and to what uses I'll be put. But I try not to dwell too much on my future as it is beyond my control. As the Judas slave, I live only for today. Tomorrow is the uncertain future and whatever happens to me is in the hands of an unknown Fate! End You can access all the Jean-Christophe stories by joining the archive group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

"CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES" A Sequel to "A Reversal of Fortune" Chapter 32: "Norge meets an Old Friend" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years. Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) "The characters and ideas contained in this story are fictitious. They belong to the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures," Chapter 32: "Norge meets an Old Friend" Norge: Tonight, I am tired to the point of total exhaustion. Today, I have been taxed both physically and emotionally. I am ready to sleep and I move my body in closer to Jake who stirs slightly as I adjust the front of my body into the contours of his back. I wrap him in my arms and I draw comfort from the warm hardness of his body. Almost as though it has a will of its own, my cock seeks to lodge itself in the warm moistness of his ass crack. Jake obviously feels it pulsating heat and stirs to push back closer into me. Then, with a soft sigh of contentment, he settles into a deep sleep. I can feel the steady beat of his strong heart and the rhythmic pattern of his breathing through my chest and belly. These sooth me and I too am contented. I feel great affection for Jake and as I served as a pony to both Lucien Barrois and Guy Maratier, my thoughts often wandered back to him and La Fort. He was the only pleasurable memory I have of the miserable six months I'd spent at the plantation where I was conditioned, trained and made ready to serve as Lucien Barrois's human pony. At first, we had paired off for mutual protection against the unwanted advances and the sexual predations of our more aggressive fellow slaves. Inevitably, our feelings deepened into a genuine affection for one another and we had become lovers. During my time away from La Fort, I'd thought often of Jake and pictured his suffering as he laboured in the fields under the cruel whips of the plantation's black overseers. Visions of him bent double with his back laid open by the lash distressed me. I wasn't to know that, shortly after my return to the city, the chief overseer, Claymore Jackson had chosen Jake to serve as his personal pony. Therefore, upon our arrival at the plantation this afternoon, I was surprised and delighted to see Jake harnessed to the overseer's trap and tethered in the shade of one of the enormous trees that line the driveway to La Fort's gracious mansion. I hadn't recognised Jake immediately; indeed I'd not expected to see him other than as a field slave toiling in a distant gang as my Master drove me on a familiarisation inspection tour his new inheritance. After my exhausting run out from the city, I was hot and fatigued and I was allowed to stand and cool down as my Master and his son were warmly welcomed to La Fort by the chief overseer, Claymore Jackson and the black major domo, Colton. Peripherally, I was aware of another pony tethered in the shade of a tree but I was too pre-occupied with my own discomfort to pay him any attention. However, I noticed he was very fidgety and I assumed he was being plagued by flies or other insects and was trying to dislodge them. I understood this; many times I have stood immobilised between the shafts while these troublesome pests feasted on my own sweat. A pony is expected behave himself and stand motionless whenever he is stationary. Friskiness in a pony is frowned upon and is usually rewarded with a few sharp cuts of the driver's whip across the ass or shoulders. And it was inevitable that this frisky pony would attract the attention of his driver. "Jake! Stand still, damn you! Stop fidgeting or you'll feel my whip on your ass." Claymore Jackson's admonishment was said without rancour. In fact there was almost a tone of affection in his voice; very much as a parent uses on a naughty child. This isn't surprising. Most master's quickly establish good working relationships with their ponies and view them with a degree of fondness not afforded to their house or work slaves. I had this pony/driver relationship with my former driver, Lucien Barrois and slowly my new Master is establishing one with me. Initially, I resented Lucien and unfairly, I blamed him for all my woes. However, since his own enslavement, I have re-evaluated our relationship as former Master and pony and I now know he was a `good' master. Certainly, his attitude always reflected the fact that he was the master and I was his slave but he was never unnecessarily cruel to me. It's true he demanded much of me as his pony and would use his whip to extract the very best from me but he never whipped me in anger. He would run me hard but always, at the end of our drives, he would calm me by soothingly stroking my arm or chest or playfully patting my ass and tell me I was "a good pony" or "well done, boy". There were even the occasional rewards when he allowed me to nuzzle a slither of apple from the cupped palm of his hand. How I enjoyed the sweet, juicy taste of my reward after the blandness of my gruel. And how I savoured the biting tang of the apple as my tongue licked his hand for every last drop of juice. Unable to ask - I was forbidden to speak and the bit in my mouth made speech difficult - I would look at him and my eyes would plead for more. Sometimes, he'd relent and give me a second slither - but not often. Rewards for a pony shouldn't be overdone else they lose their effectiveness. So I was surprised to hear Claymore call his pony `Jake'. Immediately I wondered if this could be my Jake. A glance in the pony's direction confirmed that it was and my heart skipped a beat. Jake had recognised me as we came up the drive and he'd tried to attract my attention by his friskiness. As our eyes meet, we both broke into huge smiles of pleasure. But it is almost impossible to smile with a bit in your mouth and so our smiles were more in the nature of grimacing. I was happy to see Jake now served as a pony. Life as a human pony is infinitely preferable to the horrors of straining and sweating in a gang of field-slaves. I know for I have experienced both. And sadly, I remembered this is to be Rafe's and Pollux's fate. Really, I have no great sympathy for Pollux - his manner grates on me - but I did feel for Rafe. My own experiences in a field gang and as I underwent my pony training tell me poor Rafe will be stretched to the limits of his endurance - both physically and emotionally. And I won't be here to help him. Doubtlessly, within a day or two, my Master will return to the city with me and Rafe and I will be parted. The fact that the parting will be temporary is of poor comfort. I will miss Rafe sleeping at my side and I will miss his loving ministrations as his mouth serviced my cock. In our short time together, Rafe and I have become lovers - of a sort - within the limitations our Master has placed on Rafe's usage. Master has declared Rafe's ass is `out-of-bounds' and it would be foolish of me to challenge his owner's given right to first usage of it. So frustratingly, I must wait until Guy Maratier takes Rafe's cherry. How I envy my Master; for Rafe's ass is a sheer delight. I should know for I have finger tested its tight, warm moistness on many occasions. But finger-fucking Rafe is a poor substitute for the real thing. Jake's presence is welcome and goes some way to alleviating my sadness over Rafe. I wonder - will we have an opportunity to talk. There is so much I wish to ask Jake. I have so many questions for him. But whether or not we are given this opportunity to talk depends on our Master and his overseer. I watched as Rafe and Pollux were lead away to the blacksmith's workshop by two black overseers and young Master Etienne. We waited patiently while our Master and his overseers refreshed themselves indoors before emerging to drive to the distant forge. Jake and I stayed in step and paced ourselves with one another as our drivers drove us at a leisurely trot. But I had an advantage; Jake's trap had an additional passenger, Colton, the major domo, who'd expressed a wish to be present as Rafe is collared and branded. Upon arrival at the forge, Jake and I were tethered alongside one another and even though we couldn't speak, we were delighted to be in each other's company. But my pleasure turned to pain when I heard Rafe's pitiful, but vain pleas to his Master to be spared the branding iron. And his heartrending scream of pain as the iron seared itself into his flesh tore at my heart. Tears misted my eyes as I heard his loud sobbing. I watched in impotent anger as two, black overseers led Rafe and Pollux to the slave stables where they were to rest and recover overnight before being put to work next morning. My anger increased as I saw an arrogant, young, black overseer impatiently put his whip to Rafe's ass and abuse him. "Move yo'self, dumbass!" I listened as my Master and his chief overseer discussed Rafe's immediate future. This discussion was a mixed blessing for Rafe. The overseer told my Master Rafe's endurance and stamina needed to be built up if he is to serve as a pony. I was dismayed to hear his decision that, tomorrow morning, he would chain Rafe to the waterwheel that keeps water flowing into La Fort's extensive gardens and supplies the swimming pool and spas. But I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard that Rafe is to be `protected' from the sexual advances of his fellow slaves. Rafe is to spend his nights locked into a security cage. This knowledge that Rafe would be `safe' was most welcome. However, this consideration didn't extend to Pollux. When asked by his overseer if Pollux was also to be similarly locked in a security cage, my Master's answer was blunt to the extreme. "No, there's no need. The slave can take his chances as best he can." Despite my dislike of Pollux, I nevertheless feel sorry for him. Alone in the dark, he will suffer the full horrors of the slave stables and friendless, he will be helpless to protect himself from the depraved attention of his fellow slaves. My time in La Fort's slave stables is still very recent and I know what awaits Pollux. Thankfully, during my stay, Jake and I provided one another with mutual protection. Poor Pollux! He doesn't have a Jake to help protect him. Later as Jake and I were unharnessed and hosed down to remove the grime and sweat of the day's labours from our bodies, we received an unexpected reward. Claymore Jackson watched as we were groomed and as our grooms prepared to lead us away to the pony stables, he instructed them to place us in the same stall. The overseer remembered the bond that exists between us and he wished to reward his pony for his good performance. Good-naturedly, he gave our asses a playful slap and told us. "I'm sure you two boys have a lot of catching up to do." His knowing wink was suggestive and left us in no doubt that we had his permission make love. The months apart haven't diminished our ardour and the night is long. And as the chief overseer had said we did indeed have a lot of catching up to do. Yet even as I thrust deeply into Jake, I have a guilty image of Rafe before me. I think ahead to the day when I can claim Rafe just as I am doing with Jake right at this moment. And as Jake's tightness squeezes and milks me, I wish with all my heart that my cock was buried deep inside Rafe. But this is unfair to Jake and I dismiss all thoughts of Rafe from my mind and give myself over to pleasing him. Finally, I am spent and now ready to sleep, I snuggle closer into Jake's back. He stirs as my cock finds safe lodgement in the deep cleft of his buttocks and he gives a gentle sigh of contentment. But for now we both need to rest for whatever awaits us tomorrow. But tomorrow night is another story. It will be my turn to return the favour and open up my body to Jake. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Rafe and I had been awakened just as the first rays of the sun lightened the predawn darkness and prepared by our grooms for the day. First we'd been fed - sparingly in my case as my main meal of the day isn't given to me until the completion of my day's labours. That way my body can, overnight, take on the sustenance it needs for the following day and void my waste products first thing in the morning. Most responsible drivers refrain from over feeding their ponies first thing in the morning. An overloaded belly can have a number of unfortunate consequences for both the pony and his driver. Firstly, a full stomach makes the pony sluggish and slows him down. The other consequences are of an indelicate nature. Given that a pony spends most of his day in harness, it is highly probable that he'll need to defecate at some point and while the general public is accepting of this, the city's governing authority is less so; the laws governing the soiling of public thoroughfares by ponies and household pets are stringent. It is incumbent on all pony drivers and pet-owners to `clean-up' after their animals and failure to do so attracts a draconian fine. My Master carries a small, sealed bucket and shovel in the luggage compartment of his trap for just such an eventuality but to date I have never given him cause to use them. And then there is another less obvious but nonetheless distasteful consequence of driving an overfed pony. The strenuous running and the sheer physical effort required to keep the trap moving places great stress on a pony's digestive tract which- and this varies with the individual - can result in a noisily, repetitive breaking of the wind. Naturally, a driver sitting downwind of a pony wishes to spare himself the discomfort of this and wisely limits his pony's food intake until the end of the working day. But again, I am a well behaved pony. I never fart as I run in harness; something my former driver, Lucien Barrois always appreciated. Rafe and I had been taken by the groom slaves to the ablution block where we'd relieved ourselves before we were hosed down, dried and I had been harnessed to my Master's trap. Rafe had been secured to the shafts alongside of me and I wondered about our Master's plans for us. Even after all this time serving as a human pony, I still find this uncertainty of what the new day will bring as irksome. Of course, as a pony, I'm not entitled to know my Master's movements. All that is required of me is that I perform well and deliver him to whatever destination he decides upon. But the fact that Rafe has been fastened to my trap is worrying. It indicates to me that my Master is taking him some place and I worry that the place is Lionel Schuster's slave market. Has my Master decided to sell Rafe? Rafe has been a slave for such a short time and as yet he hasn't fully adapted to his changed circumstances. The thought that he could be sold and parted from me upsets me. Rafe has become very dear to me; which is most strange. In view of the fact that he was once my master and owner, I should hate and resent him. And at first I did. But there is an indefinable "something" about Rafe which tore away my initial hostility towards him. Many times since his enslavement, I have asked myself why this is so - after all, don't I have every right to resent him for his treatment of me. I have thought hard about this and wondered - what are the qualities that forced me to soften my feelings toward him. Rafe has a lingering air of sadness about him. This isn't surprising when you consider all he has lost. Even as I initially rejoiced at his downfall, I was aware that his losses were immeasurable and heartrending. How could I, a simple Norwegian seaman, comprehend all that the former Lucien Barrois had lost? However, despite the great disparity in our backgrounds we had two things in common. We have both lost our freedom! And we are slaves! I often think back to my own enslavement and I constantly relive the trauma of that event. I still recall the day I had been arrested and hauled into court both as an illegal immigrant and a drug pedlar. It is true that I had thrown caution to the wind and deliberately overstayed my visitor's permit and therefore I have only myself to blame. I had gone on a binge of drinking and whoring that had made me oblivious to time. When, I finally sobered up, I found my ship had sailed without me and even though I didn't know it then, the ships agents had registered me as an illegal over stayer. Stranded with very little money, I wandered the streets, bewildered and lost before I was picked up by the police and charged. I accepted the validity of the charge that I was an `illegal' but I rejected the idea that I was a drug dealer. I have never taken any drugs - having seen their effects on some of my fellow seamen was a strong deterrent not to do so - nor would I give them to another. No, those drugs were planted on me by the police to ensure that I was convicted and enslaved. Being a stranger to the laws of this strange country, I made light of the seriousness of my situation. I entered the court in the belief that I would receive a light custodial sentence and then be deported back to my homeland. I was completely unprepared for what followed. The shock of hearing the judge's scathing assessment of my character still rankles. I am not the dreadful criminal he described and he was wrong to say I was beyond redemption. Even as I listened to his words, I knew that I was in trouble but when he sentenced me to slavery for life, his words failed to register. It wasn't until His Honour ordered his bailiff to strip me naked and take me to be processed into my slavery that I understood. I struggled and fought as hard as I could and it took several brawny, security men to wrestle me to the floor. They quickly stripped me of my clothing and using their canes to great effect, they subdued me. As I lay scrunched into a trembling, sobbing ball of misery, I heard the judge rebuke me saying that my behaviour was reprehensible and the only rehabilitation open to me was through lifelong slavery and hard work. With that, I was hauled from the court, taken to the assessor and when he'd done with me, I was delivered to the forge for branding and collaring. How can I describe my emotions as all of this took place? My mind closed down and tried to shield me from the reality of my plight. But it failed dismally to protect me from the horror and pain of my branding. Sometimes, in the dark quietness of my stall, I relive the pain and humiliation of the branding iron. Still not fully comprehending all that was happening; I was taken, along with ten other newly enslaved, from the courts to a slave dealership to await my eventual sale. That first night in the pens was a nightmare that still haunts me. I will never forget the squalor, filth and stench of those slave pens nor the wretched nakedness of my fellow slaves. All eleven of us sought out a solitary spot within the pen where we spent that awful first night alone and in total disbelief. Each of us found solace as best we could. For my part, I cried all night and was fully awake when, first thing in the morning, we were given our first meal of the tasteless, grey, glutinous mess that is now my staple diet. Then we were removed from our cage and made to publicly attend to the `calls of nature'. How can I describe my sense of outrage at this treatment of us? I'd always taken great personal pride in myself and to suddenly realise I was a naked slave reduced to the base level of a farmyard animal left me with a sense of shame and self- loathing. Then we were made ready for inspection. Our handlers sprayed us with high pressure hoses as they scrubbed us clean with a coarse soap, reeking of disinfectant and stiff bristled brushes. Callously, they paid scant attention to our fresh brands and laughed at our cries of pain as the brushes tortured our wounded flesh. This scrubbing down was my first introduction to the cruel indifference our masters show to their slaves. But it wasn't to be the last. I now encounter this cruel treatment of slaves every day of my life. Indeed I saw numerous examples of it today as my Master drove out to La Fort. We travelled through the breadbasket of the city that supplies it with all its fruits and vegetables and which lies a few miles beyond its boundaries. The city is truly blessed by a bountiful Nature. But, as they buy their fruits and vegetables, do the lucky citizens of the city ever consider the human cost of their good fortune. Do they give thought to the suffering slaves who are driven relentlessly under the whip to work ever harder in their interests? I doubt they do. Several times my Master halted me so that he and his son could observe the slaves toiling in the fields or he pulled me to the side of the road to allow a team of draft slaves hauling a heavily laden dray to the packing sheds to pass. I watched horrified as these teams of misery strained into their harnesses driven forward by the remorseless whips of their overseers. And I reflected on my own good fortune. I could so easily be one of them. My life as a pony is infinitely preferable to that of a draft slave. If there is a god who involves himself in the affairs of a slave, then he has smiled on me. How fortunate I am that Lucien Barrois had bought me to serve as his personal pony and not as a common work slave. In its own greedy self-interest, this society re- introduced slavery. Often I ask myself does it ever feel guilt for tolerating a system whereby one human being exploits another for his personal gain. If there is a collective sense of guilt, then this society assuages it by denying a slave his humanity. Slaves are the unwilling victims of their owners' greed and self-interest. By stripping us naked, branding our bodies and placing a collar around our necks, they seek to reduce us to the level of a beast of burden. Then they no longer see us as human; in their eyes we have become mere work animals which justify their treatment of us. Yet in doing this, they also diminish themselves. Their callous disregard for a slave robs them of their consciences and with each act of cruelty, they shed just a little more of their own humanity. Every time the branding iron sears itself into slave's captive flesh and each time a whip cuts across an unprotected back they corrupt themselves and their society. Once we were dry, our bodies were coated with a `high gloss' oil and we were placed in an inspection pen. There, we stood bewildered and uncertain. I kept telling myself this is a bad dream and that I'll awake soon to the real world. But it wasn't a dream and when I realised this, I sought to lose myself among my fellows. During the morning, a steady procession of prospective buyers wandered through to look at the new livestock. The favoured few were given the privilege of a private viewing and periodically, some of our number were removed from the pen, taken away and returned only when the client had finished his inspection. This is how I met the man who was to buy me; Lucien Barrois. He noticed me before I saw him. I was lost in a world of disbelief and I must have presented a forlorn figure as he surveyed me. I only became aware of his presence when he pointed to me and asked if he could view me privately. As I was hauled from the security of the pen by two brawny, slave handlers, my pent up anger and frustration erupted in a torrent of abuse; I lashed out at them with my feet and shouted the vilest obscenities worthy of any seaman. I struggled all the way as they dragged me to a viewing podium and attempted to chain me into position. However, I was proving too much for them to handle. They were quickly joined by two overseers and under the combined weight of all four; I was forced to the floor of the podium where the chain was quickly fastened around my ankle. That day, I paid a high price for my rebelliousness and I learned my first lesson in slave obedience. Still on my knees, the two handlers thrashed me with their canes. I tried to protect myself from the angry blows but my efforts were futile. The overseers continued to beat me into submission. Soon my cries of defiance gave way to the tears of acceptance. Then and only then did my beating cease. The physical pain I sustained was as nothing to the shame and humiliation I felt. I had been beaten like a cur and I now lay whimpering at the feet of my tormentors. And watching my torment was the man who was responsible it; for it was he who'd ask to inspect me. He eyes never left me and the corners of his mouth were crinkled into a smile of amusement. I raised my head to look at him with hate-filled eyes. It was the moment when I laid all my impotent anger, frustrated rage and utter helplessness on the shoulders of Lucien Barrois. He was the manifestation of all that had happened to me over the past twenty-four hours; my enslavement, my branding and now this ultimate degradation of being publicly displayed- naked - for his amusement. At that moment, I loathed this aristocratic, young man and my hatred of him bordered on the pathological. Of course, Lucien Barrois bought me and I became his slave. In those first few months, nothing my new Master did altered my feelings towards him and I was determined he wouldn't break my spirit. I endured my `welcome home' caning in resolute silence; I muffled my scream as he had his brand burned into my chest and, red-faced with shame, I suffered as he exercised his owner's right and robbed me of my cherry. But these things paled into insignificance when he had me circumcised. At first, he'd been attracted to my foreskin - he played with it a lot - and allowed me to keep it. But he'd eventually grown tired of it and one day he took me to a veterinarian where it was surgically removed. Humanely, he'd allowed the vet to give me a local anaesthetic to kill the pain. I suppose I should have been grateful to him for this but I wasn't. He was instrumental in taking away a potent and obvious symbol of my manhood and I hated him all the more for this. My time spent at La Fort did nothing to sweeten my mood or to lessen my hatred of the imperious Lucien Barrois. In the first few months, as I laboured in the fields, I only ever saw him from a distance as he drove his pony and trap on his inspection tours. However, there was one memorable occasion when he and his chief overseer had me taken out of my work-gang and I was made to stand before them as they discussed my `progression'. My body was pummelled, poked and prodded as they tested it for its hardness. They gauged my muscles for their strength and I suffered the humiliation of having the cheeks of my arse squeezed and slapped as a test of their density and firmness. I bowed my head in shame as Claymore Jackson delivered his verdict on me. "Well Lucien. He's now ready to begin his pony training. These months working in the fields have worked wonders with him. His development is exceptional. He has a powerful chest with good lung capacity and a hard flat belly. He is long legged with strong, muscular thighs and his ass is a real pony's ass. It's well-rounded and not oversized. That's good! Personally, I can't abide a pony with a big ass; makes them bottom heavy and they look out of balance. I'd rather see such a slave pulling in a team of drafts than between the shafts of a trap. No, this slave is perfect. You chose well when you bought him." The shame I felt as they discussed me so intimately deepened as the overseer took my cock and balls into his hand and he stroked me to erection. "He's well-endowed! That's a plus." Claymore exclaims. "Heavy balls too: real low hangers that'll swing free as he trots - and a large cock. He'll show well as he runs and he'll do you proud." At that stage, I was unaware that I would be required to show well when I am between the shafts. Eventually, I'll discover that the ability to show well is a highly desirable trait in a pony. It is one the buyer looks for when he purchases a pony and it adds greatly to his value. For some reason - which eludes me - a driver takes pride in the size of his pony's genitalia. It really is a case of the more generous the size of genitals the greater is the owner's pride in his pony. Is there a subliminal message here? Does the size of a pony's cock and balls overcompensate for any perceived self- deficiencies of his owner? I have wondered about this several times as I stood patiently while my genitals were fondled and stroked by an admiring friend of my Master. Usually, these occasions ended with him being congratulated on my good showing. But one thing I do know; Lucien Barrios had no reason to overcompensate. I know this from personal experience; for on those occasions when he used me sexually, I learned to appreciate that he was very well endowed. I will discover that running as a pony can be powerfully erotic. Perhaps it is the helplessness of our situations and the knowledge that we are totally controlled by our drivers but most ponies do manage to sport and maintain an erection as they run between the shafts. And I do this admirably. I wasn't returned to my work-gang that day. Instead, Claymore Jackson took me to the stables and my pony training began in earnest that same day. Those next few months while I trained as a pony were difficult ones for me. I was trained hard and whipped often until I became the perfect pony. Much was expected and demanded of me and there was an added emphasis to my training. After all, I was special for I was to serve an illustrious Master, Lucian Barrois. However, I prefer not to dwell too much on that unhappy time. Let me just say that as I was trained to serve him, my hatred of Lucian Barrois grew. It is indeed ironic that the slave Rafe is now to experience first-hand this very same training that Lucien Barrois had demanded of me. I suppose I should rejoice in this; but I don't. I derive no pleasure from knowing of the pain and tribulations that confront Rafe as he is trained to join me as the other half of our Master's `pair in hand'. But, I have to say I look forward to Rafe eventually sharing my life both as my team mate and hopefully as my lover. The next six months will be long, lonely ones for me. Why and when did my feelings towards Lucien Barrois begin to change? Truthfully, I don't know. The change was gradual and I can't recall an exact moment when it began. Those first few weeks of serving as his pony were humiliating ones for me. As he drove me naked through the city's streets, I seethed at the injustice of my situation and I blamed him for all that had happened to me. I still saw him as the instigator of my downfall and heaped all my pent up anger onto his shoulders. But as the weeks passed and as Lucien Barrois built a rapport between us, my attitudes began to shift in his favour. It's true that he demanded much from me and his whip ensured I met his expectations. But he wasn't a cruel Master and unlike some others who mistreat their ponies abominably, he never abused me. And as I witnessed those abuses, I came to the realisation that I had a good Master. One thing a pony does have in excess is the time to think. And whenever I stand tethered and wait for my Master's return I do a lot of thinking. I suppose all ponies do this during their periods of inactivity; they have nothing else to do to relieve the sheer boredom of standing motionless in the same spot. And I began to think often on how the fates had conspired against me and delivered me into my slavery. Increasingly, I began to recognise that it wasn't Lucien Barrois who condemned me to lifelong servitude. It was a combination of my own stupidity in missing my ship's departure and overstaying my welcome and the unforgiving laws of the land. When, I accepted that it went someway to mollifying my hatred of him. Certainly, I'd felt anger when he first bought me as his slave. He was the manifestation of all that had gone wrong for me and he was the scapegoat for all those who'd delivered me into bondage. And so it was very easy for me to focus my suppressed anger and carefully concealed frustration on him. As I served him, I started to realise the unfairness in blaming him solely and my feelings towards him softened considerably. I still bitterly resented the fact that I was a slave but I began to realise my situation could be worse. And today, as we travelled out to La Fort, I had glimpses of just how lucky I was to have been bought by Lucien Barrois. His benevolent ownership of me had spared me the horrors of being a permanent field-hand, or worse, a heavy duty, draft slave. True, there had been my six months sojourn at La Fort but that had been a necessary prelude to prepare me for the comparatively easy life of a human pony. This is something that Rafe is about to discover and somehow I suspect his six months will be infinitely more taxing than mine. For poor Rafe carries an extra burden on his shoulders. Through no fault of his own, he is the reviled `imposter', Lucien Barrois and he is the helpless target of the Maratier family's hatred of the Barrois name. So gradually, my feelings towards Lucien changed until a type of peace reigned between us. But to my shame, my feelings relapsed on the day that Lucien Barrois became the slave, Rafe. I now regret my pleasure in seeing him stripped naked, branded and collared and reduced to my level. And it did me no credit as I rejoiced in the shame and humiliation he'd been subjected to by the jeering crowds lining the pavements as our new Master drove us home for the first time. I remember his tears and his sobbing apology to me as he ran at my side driven onwards by the whip of his new Master, Guy Maratier. His heartfelt words, "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry" tore at my heartstrings and I felt pity for this friendless, new slave who was universally hated and reviled. His words shamed me then and they still do. It was at that moment, I decided to befriend him and to guide him through the first traumatic days of his transition from free man to slave. I felt I owed him that. Now as Rafe stands tethered at my side and we wait on our Master, I worry that Rafe is to be sold. The thought that Rafe and I are to be parted depresses me. But my fears for Rafe prove unfounded and my mood lightens as the new house steward, Ben fastens the slave, Pollux to my cart. The thought races through my mind that rather than delivering Rafe to the slave-yards, our Master is taking him and Pollux to La Fort. And a smug Ben confirms this with his cruel taunting of Rafe. "Well boy! Today's the day you become a real slave. Our Master is taking you out to his plantation and putting you to work in the fields. How do you feel about that?" Rafe remains silent and an infuriated Ben viciously slaps his face. "I spoke to you boy! Answer me." I am shocked by Ben's behaviour. I didn't know him that well but he'd always struck me as possessing a pleasant nature. He'd been Lucien's favourite and from what I had seen he'd been well treated by his Master. And so his treatment of Rafe seems very much out of character. But they say "power corrupts" and this is certainly true of Ben. In recent days he has been elevated to the highest position within our Master's household that a slave can aspire to. He'd gone from being his former Master's bed slave to replacing Cato as house steward. However, this wasn't done through any ability on his part. He owed his good fortune entirely to the machinations of our Mistress, Charlotte Maratier. She had been instrumental in having the former Barrois house steward, Cato removed from that position and sold and she had also rejected Pollux as our Master's replacement for him. Initially, she'd appointed Ben to the position as a stop gap until our Master found a suitable house steward. But the wily Ben seized the opportunity to insinuate himself into his Mistress's favour. And for some reason she has responded positively to him. Her attitude towards Ben is almost affectionate and so at odds with her normally sour disposition. What is it about Ben that has made him her favourite? Is it the young slave's sycophantic attitude to her or is it that he senses her implacable hatred of Rafe and plays to this animosity by his treatment of Rafe? Whatever it is, Ben is now her favourite slave and when she moves into the home her grateful grandson has just purchased for her, she is to reward him. Our Master has made a gift of Ben to his grandmother and she is to take her new slave with her to serve as her `head of household". Ben is aware that his Mistress is watching from an upstairs window and no doubt salivating at the thought that today Rafe is to confront the rigours of a common field-slave. He has an audience of one and he is playing to that audience. Cruelly he swipes his cane across Rafe's ass and demands that he answer him. "Answer me when I speak to you! How do you feel about becoming a common work slave?" It would be so easy for Rafe to be provoked into rebuking his former slave but Rafe is learning that a slave must think carefully before answering any questions put to him. I am relieved at his simple reply. "If it's what my Master wants then I accept his decision." It is the right answer and it doesn't give Ben grounds for complaint. Nevertheless, he continues with his taunts and tells Rafe about his `special' relationship with our Master and then he boasts of Guy Maratier's sexual prowess. Crudely, he compares Rafe's sexual performance with that of his new Master. He tells Rafe there is no comparison and that Lucien had always left him `unsatisfied'. Sarcastically, he tells Rafe how he'd always faked his responses to Lucien's lovemaking. It wasn't ecstasy that had caused him to cry out but rather the fear of punishment. He tells Rafe that he doesn't need to fake it with our new Master who is a `real man'. Lucien Barrois was by comparison a `mere boy' and an inexperienced one at that. I seethe with anger at this unnecessary tormenting of Rafe but we are spared any more of Ben's vitriol. He falls silent and assumes a position of respect as our Master and his son, Etienne cross the courtyard to where we wait. As our Master and his son climb into my cart, Ben unties my tether and hands my reins to him. Master doesn't acknowledge Ben; rather he slaps the reins on my shoulders and tells me to "WALK ON!" As we turn out of the quiet residential street, Master heads me in the direction La Fort. I know the route well. I have travelled this way many times under the guidance of Lucien Barrois. Today I am to take my new Master, Guy Maratier to claim "La Fort as his own and to deliver his new slave Rafe into the hands of his black overseers. I flinch as the whip cuts across my ass and I respond to Master Etienne's shrill, boyish command to. "Giddy up horsey!" I break into a smart, high stepping gait. And already I am showing well. My Master will be pleased with me. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> RAFE: Nothing in my wildest imagination could ever have prepared me for the nightmarish horrors of La Fort's slave stables. The appalling stench overwhelms me; my nose wrinkles in disgust, the awful smell catches in my throat and my stomach churns in revulsion. The smell of unwashed bodies, stale sweat, urine, excrement and vomit permeates the very air I breathe. But the real putrefaction of this vile place isn't its squalor or its foul smell. Rather it is the miserable existence of the wretched creatures that inhabit the stables overnight as they rest their tired, aching bodies after their day's labour and allow their muscles and sinews to rejuvenate for tomorrow. Before today I have never entered into the slave stables. After all, as Lucien Barrois, why would I? My interest in my slaves extended only to their work output and I was totally disinterested in their creature comforts; I left such things to my overseers. I lived a life of splendid seclusion amid the luxury and grandeur of the La Fort's stately home and the green expanse of its gardens of shady trees and sweet smelling plants. The stables were far removed and screened from my view and I was protected from their putrid stench. I ignored them and subsequently, they never intruded into my consciousness. In every sense of the word - "they were out of sight and out of mind". Now they are very much in my mind for they have become my new home. These first few hours have been traumatic ones for me and even more so for my fellow slave Pollux. At least I am protected by my security cage from the vileness to which the wild-eyed and weeping Pollux is being subjected. He is the focus of much attention from the bestial inhabitants of this hellish place. Deemed by them to be fresh meat his tormentors wait impatiently in line to rape him. His pitiful pleas for mercy are ignored and are the cause of much coarse laughter. As I watch, I am overcome with pity for his suffering. And at the same time, I am thankful that my Master was declared "my ass inviolate and out of bounds". Otherwise I would now share Pollux's dreadful fate. After our branding and collaring, Pollux and I had been fed and watered and then taken to the stables where my handler Sir Conn had placed me in my security cage. My situation is ironic. Just a few weeks ago, I sat with Claymore Jackson as we'd interviewed this self-assured young man for the job of apprentice overseer. The young, black youth had impressed me with his maturity and self-confidence. He was, I decided, just the type of young man La Fort required. I'd liked his directness and no nonsense approach to our questions on how he'd handle the slaves in his charge. His enthusiasm was infectious and I smiled inwardly at the thought of my slaves buckling under his strict discipline and whip. Now of course I am a slave and I will experience Sir Conn's discipline for myself. Pollux didn't share my good fortune. There's to be no safe haven for him. He was simply night-hobbled and left to take his chances. Pollux and I waited apprehensively for the return of the slaves at the end of the day. As they were night-hobbled by their overseers and driven into the stable, I was struck by their brutish appearances. They reminded me of dumb beasts of burden. There seemed to a pecking order in their behaviour as they divided into two groups. One group appeared placidly docile while the other was noisily aggressive. In time, I will recognise one group as submissive and the other as dominant. Tonight however the dominants' interest centres on me. They know who I am and they are expecting me. They now see their former owner reduced to their level. Like them I am a naked slave and I shudder to think what they'd do to me should they succeed in getting hold of me. But my cage is substantially constructed and it provides me with a solid sanctuary. Eventually, I will find there is a type of bush telegraph that operates throughout the plantation and nothing escapes their notice. They'd heard of my arrival and now they crowd around my cage as they jeer and taunt me. I am terrified and I try to make myself inconspicuous by crouching in a corner of the cage. This angers them and they begin to spit at me through the tight bars that protect me from their groping hands. In their frustration, they begin to shout and violently rock my prison in the futile hope of dislodging me from its safety. Their voices grow louder with their violence until their noise attracts the attention of their overseers. Noisily, the door to the stable is thrown open and ten black overseers enter and using their whips to good effect, they disperse my tormentors. Pandemonium reigns as the overseers whip the slaves to the floor. They continue to lash the slaves who, like so many whipped curs, crawl away to their straw bedding. Finally peace is restored and after Sir Conn has checked my cage, the overseers withdraw. Quietness reigns briefly but then they spy Pollux huddled in a corner. Like a pack of scavenging wolves they descend upon him. Soon, I lose sight of him but I hear his frantic pleading from beneath the scrum of convulsing bodies all eager to be the first to partake of this tasty morsel of fresh meat that their Master has callously tossed to them. This is to be a long night for Pollux. I try to shut out his loud screams of outrage and pain and his vain pleading. Gradually, his protests weaken and his shouting ceases only to be replaced by his soft sobbing. But even this is drowned out by the animal-like grunts, snorts and farting of the foul creatures who despoil him. I had disliked Pollux's air of smug superiority and so much about him had annoyed me but he doesn't deserve this. My heart is heavy as I watch from the safety of my sanctuary. Then a horrifying thought flashes through my mind. Had Norge suffered these horrors on his first night in the stables? Had I been instrumental in him suffering in much the same way that Pollux now suffers? The notion that he had chills me. But I know the answer to these questions. I know that Norge had teamed with his fellow slave Jake for mutual protection. I try to sleep for I know tomorrow I am to be sorely tested and face the most difficult day of my life. Tomorrow morning I will be chained to the waterwheel that supplies La Fort's gardens and swimming pool with a never ending supply of water. There, my labours will be Sisyphean for I will walk uphill on the one spot, going nowhere but achieving much. And I will do this under the direction and the whip of my handler, Sir Conn. I try to sleep but sleep eludes me. I close my eyes and cover my ears in a vain attempt to shut out the sights and sounds of Pollux's debasement. To be continued............ You cab access the Jean-Christophe stories by joining the archive group at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories

"THE AFTERMATH" (Or What Follows Next) Chapter 9: "Replacing Toby" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) An archive of my stories can be found at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, alterations or add pictures." Chapter 9: "Replacing Toby" Part 1 Friday: Andy Trevorrow is feeling very pleased with himself. Today, as he drives into the city he reflects on the happenings of the past few days. It all began on Tuesday when, quite by chance he'd seen the latest work by the city's leading artist, Antonio Varo, the bronze statues of two naked wrestlers locked in close quarter combat. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Tuesday: Andy doesn't know what is that attracts him to the statues - perhaps it is the sheer eroticism of the sensually entwined bodies as portrayed by Antonio Varo; or is it the visual appeal of the two, naked wrestlers cast in the same heroic proportions as an ancient Greek or Roman work of art? Andy only knows that, at his first sighting of it, he was sexually aroused as never before by an art object. Andy considers he is a `lover of the arts' and over the years he has accumulated a moderate collection of minor art works, but these are small in comparison to the half-life sized statue of the wrestlers. The wrestlers' appeal to him was immediate and their effect upon him hypnotic; he knew that, despite their high price of 17,000 drachmae, he MUST have them- whatever the cost. To this end, he'd placed a deposit on the statue to ensure it didn't go to another buyer. In his imagination, he'd even placed the statues in the centre of his newly landscaped courtyard, adjacent to the patio where he eats breakfast and lunch. There, he would be able to gaze upon the wrestlers as he ate and they would be on prominent display for all visitors to his home to see and marvel at. To say he is excited at his impending ownership of the wrestlers is an understatement. Of course, once he'd left Antonio Varo's studio reality took over. How was he to pay for the statue? Andy is the inheritor of a prosperous agricultural property and owner of a sizeable herd of slaves. In common with all farmers, Andy's wealth is conditional on the returns he receives for his crops and other produce. To date, he has been lucky in that the recent seasons have all been good ones ensuring a good return on his produce; and this season promises to be equally as rewarding. He knows he has one person to thank you this - his personal pleasure slave and trusted farm steward, Toby. In recent years, he has abdicated his responsibilities for the running of the farm and left it all to Toby; preferring instead to devote all his time to the artistic life of the nearby city. Here, he moves in a circle of cultured friends whose interest in Andy extends only to his generosity and free-spending habits. Secretly, they laugh at Andy's country manners and sneer at his supposed artistic appreciations. For his part, Andy considers he is very lucky to move in such exalted company. He appreciates his good friends and delights in their company at galleries, theatres, restaurants and parties where his free-spending generosity knows no bounds. His slave, Toby, is aware of his Master's foolhardiness and worries for Andy's future well-being. But as a slave -even a trusted, well-beloved slave -Toby is powerless to do anything about his Master's recklessness. Toby, in his position as farm steward, is aware that his Master's free-spending habits are unsustainable. He can only look on in dismay and hope that Andy comes to his senses - and SOON! In the meantime, Toby works the farm and its slaves that much harder to ensure that his beloved Master can maintain his chosen lifestyle. Andy's determination to possess the statues at whatever cost has presented him with a dilemma-how to pay for them? He is aware that he has insufficient cash reserves to pay for it outright and even with the promise of a bumper season it will be sometime until he receives the returns from the harvest. Meanwhile, he must find the money within the next few days or risk losing both the statue and his deposit. He could approach one of the city's many moneylenders and briefly he had considered doing so. However, he decided against this for the simple reason that, to maintain his current lifestyle, he had already borrowed extensively from one of his good friends, a prominent city banker. He will of course, repay this loan as soon as he receives the income from this season's harvest. But it would be bad form to approach the banker for an extension of his already existing loan; besides he doesn't want to give his friends the impression that he is short of money. Yet, it's a problem that vexes him and causes him to lose sleep that night. Tonight as he lies in bed with Toby, the problem weighs heavily upon his mind. Of course, Toby hasn't any idea of his Master's foolish and unnecessary borrowing of the money. Nor does Toby know of the exorbitant interest rate his Master is paying to service this loan; a fact also not fully understood or appreciated by Andy. And why should Toby know? After all, Toby is only a slave; albeit a well loved one. No, these matters concern only the Master and aren't of any interest to a slave. Still, his mind is troubled - how IS he to pay for the statue? Lying alongside Andy, Toby is concerned for his Master. He knows that something is troubling Andy, but he doesn't know what. In the long years that he has been Andy's personal slave he has grown to know every facet and nuance of his young Master's personality. Instinctively, he knows Andy's moods as well as Andy himself; he is well-practised in recognising any changes in his Master's moods or behaviour. The great affection he bears for Andy ensures that he rejoices in his Master's happiness and grieves in his sorrows. In this, he is the completely loving and devoted slave. Yet, tonight he knows that Andy has much on his mind. He respects Andy's ownership of him and he knows it isn't his place to enquire as to what is troubling him. He also knows should Andy decide it is something he wishes to share with his slave he will do so; it isn't for him to intrude into his Master's affairs. He is however, deeply concerned about his Master's extravagant lifestyle and his seeming indifference to where the money comes from to support it; he is also unaware of Andy's indebtedness to the city banker. And Toby isn't aware, as yet, of Andy's burning desire for the statue of the wrestlers, their exorbitant cost and his decision to buy it. He is overcome with the desire to comfort his Master and he snuggles into Andy. He loves the feel and warmth of his Master's hard body against his own strong, muscular frame and reaching down, he feels for Andy's cock. He is surprised to find it lying lifeless; usually, at this stage, it is rampantly erect and looking for relief. At the touch of his hand, Andy's body stiffens and there is an almost imperceptible movement way from Toby; Toby is surprised at his Master's seeming indifference. This is completely out of character and now there is no doubt in Toby's mind that something is seriously worrying Andy. But what is it that causes his Master to hesitate? Still, he persists; he is determined to comfort his Master. Removing his hand from the unresponsive cock, Toby now toys with Andy's prominent nipples - he knows this usually arouses his Master - and patiently, silently he waits for a response. Gradually he senses Andy's awakening interest; there is a relaxing of the Master's body as the slave manipulates the hard, erect nipples and teases the chest hair. Suddenly, Andy reaches out and pulls his slave into a tight embrace drawing their two bodies even closer together, Andy feels Toby's hard erection pressing into his groin; the slave, for his part feels the Master's cock stir back into life. Andy now moves Toby's head down over his belly to his cock; the slave willingly, lovingly opens his mouth to receive it in a warm, moist embrace. Toby's tongue begins to slowly massage the ever-hardening cock; the Master begins to moan in delight. Toby continues to encourage his Master's rising ardour by gently moving his lips up and down the now rock solid hardness of Andy's cock. His own cock grows even harder as his lips and tongue pay homage to his master. He is determined to bring Andy out of his despondency and, as always, he is eager to have his master's cock enter into him. There's nothing Toby likes better than to have his Master fuck him. And as Toby looks into Andy's eyes, he sees Andy's rising lust. Suddenly, Andy orders his slave. "On your back, lift your legs and spread them wide." Eagerly, the slave complies and feels the head of Andy's cock poking at his puckering hole; reaching out, Toby's hands eagerly guide it into his willing body. As the slave relaxes, he feels his Master slowly drive into him. Andy takes his time; he inserts his cock, inch by slow inch, into his impatient slave. Andy pauses before each new thrust; allowing time for the slave's hole to adjust. Soon the slave experiences a wonderful sense of fullness and sighs contentedly. He really does love the feel of his Master's long, thick, hard cock stuffing his ass. Toby begins to work the internal muscles of his sphincter slowly trying to draw the invading prick further into his body. Slowly, deliberately, he works these muscles to squeeze his Master's cock in a milking action. Andy responds by gently thrusting in and out of the hard-working asshole. As always Andy loves the tightness and warm silkiness of Toby's body. Gradually, his thrusting quickens and soon both Master and slave are lost in the rapture of their lovemaking. In the darkness of the room, they are lost in a world of their common lust; oblivious to all around them. Toby reaches up and wraps his arms around Andy's shoulders drawing his head down; their lips meet, their tongues entwine and their bodies make contact. As their bodies touch, they both begin to moan in delight; they revel in the warm, satin like touch of each other's skins. As the slave's cock rubs against his Master's lower belly, it is excited by the friction and Toby feels tiny spurts of warm pre-cum ejaculating into the concave of his belly. In the warm, night air, both are covered by sheens of their sex sweat which adds to the intoxicating atmosphere of the room. The air is heavy with the scent of their lovemaking. The silence is only broken by their soft moans of ecstasy, the slurping of the master's cock and the loud slapping of his balls hitting the body of the slave beneath him. Now, the Master quickens his pace and begins to thrust even faster and harder into his aroused slave. And as Andy humps the slave, Toby helps his master by raising his buttocks to meet the downward thrust of the cock and partially pulls back as it begins its withdrawal. As Andy continues to work his slave's eager hole, his flesh is stimulated by its contact with Toby's warm, hard body. His legs tremble and his knees shake. His buttocks rapidly clench and unclench and his asshole is quivering uncontrollably. And his balls feel like they are about to explode. This is the effect that Toby always has on him and he knows that he is close to climax. Toby, for his part, can't believe the sensations sweeping over him. As Andy's cock continues to ream him out thoroughly, every single nerve in his body is sending a message of pleasure to his brain; the cock's constant, hard pounding of his prostate has him shouting out his happiness. This is the happiness that his Master always brings to him. He too is close to climax. Suddenly, Master and slave roar out their common ecstasy. Simultaneously, they both erupt into violent ejaculations; pumping out their pent-up emotions. For what seems an eternity they continue to come; the Master into his slave's body and the slave onto his own belly. Now, weak from his exertions, the Master falls forward and lies on the slave's sweat soaked chest. Both are breathing hard and they feel the beating of each other's hearts. Each loves the warmth and feel of the other's body and as their nipples touch they experience little jolts of electricity- like pleasure. They are oblivious to time and are content to just quietly lie at rest. At last, their breathing has slowed down and their heartbeats have returned to normal. The Master withdraws his now diminished cock from the slave's hole. The slave humbly asks for his Master's permission to clean him. The Master graciously consents. Finally spent, both Master and slave lie in a peaceful embrace in the warm afterglow of their sex. Toby rests with his head on his Master's chest; its warmth and the slow rise and fall of Andy's breathing is making him drowsy. Andy slowly moves his hands down over the slave's back to his rump where he lovingly strokes the firm, hard globes of the ass. He now feels the contentment that was denied to him earlier. Admittedly, he still hasn't resolved the problem of how to pay for the statues, but it no longer uppermost in his immediate thoughts. Although, he knows the problem still persists, he is enveloped in that wonderful sense of peace that he always comes from fucking Toby. He looks down at his slave and is overwhelmed with affection. Has any man ever had so loyal, so trusting and so loving a slave as Toby? He doubts it very much. Bending his head, he lovingly kisses Toby's forehead; the slave whimpers in his happiness and snuggles his head closer to Andy's chest. As he watches Toby, Andy acknowledges how much the slave is a part of his life. Apart from the fact that he is Andy's personal pleasure slave - and Andy is only too well aware of the sexual gratification Toby has given him over the years - he knows that the good management of the farm and lifestyle he enjoys is entirely due to Toby's efforts. He reflects on the richness of his life and he has a profound sense of gratitude to his steward. He had, at one time, considered giving Toby his freedom but the fear of losing him has prevented him from ever doing so. Now, he is too dependent on Toby to ever consider so drastic a disruption to his self-absorbed lifestyle. No, Toby will remain a slave for the remainder of his life and live to serve him. Andy wonders what value do you place on such a devoted slave. He concludes Toby's services are invaluable and beyond any monetary considerations. Then with lightning clarity, Andy sees the solution to his problem. Why hadn't he seen it earlier? Had he done so, he could have spared himself much anxiety. What a fool he is; the answer was in front of him all the time. SLAVES! And he is the owner of many slaves. He is a slave-owner and slaves of course have a monetary value. Why, only at last Monday's muster he'd complimented himself on the condition of his slave herd; he owned a large number of prime, young slaves who would sell well at auction. It is simply a matter of picking out two or three of his young slaves and sending them off to Dave Matheson's next auction. When is that he wonders? He'll need to move quickly. Tomorrow, at their morning briefing, he'll inform Toby of his purchase of the statue and his decision to sell some of his slaves to finance it; he'll instruct his steward to choose some choice, young slaves to sell. He knows Toby won't like his decision, particularly as harvest is almost upon them, but it can't be helped. Anyway, Toby, good slave that he is, will carry out his orders without argument. Suddenly all his concerns dissipate and he's eager to enjoy his slave once more. Fully aroused once more, he wakens the sleeping slave with a hard slap on the ass. Ordered onto his hands and knees, Toby once more happily opens up his ever willing asshole to his master's ever ready cock. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Friday: Approaching the city, Andy slaps the reins on his ponies' shoulders and spurs them on with an encouraging "HUP! HUP!" Both ponies leap forward into their harnesses and increase their speed. Now, Andy sits back to enjoy the sensual display of the slaves' bodies. Both ponies are perfectly matched in height and physique and have deeply tanned hides with golden coloured hair. He watches the strain placed upon their broad shoulders and arms and the rippling of their muscles under the glowing skin of their powerful backs as they pull his rickshaw. Fascinated, he marvels at the erotic rise and fall of the firm, well-rounded globes of their asses as they run in unison and he watches the flexing of their corded thighs. As always he is entranced by all this. Both slaves are perspiring profusely in the mid-morning heat and Andy looks on as the beads of sweat coalesce into tiny rivulets that meander down their straining torsos before being channelled into the valley between their glistening buttocks; he has a mental image of their sweat dripping from the ends of their cinched, semi-erect pricks and he is aware that his own cock is tenting his trousers. As he breathes in the pleasant, intoxicating aroma of their sweat, he lovingly, applies his whip to their beautiful rumps. Both respond-as they should- by breaking into a faster trot. Now Andy settles back and listens to the hypnotic sounds of their feet pounding on the roadway and the rattling of the rickshaw's wheels. And once more, he reflects on his sudden good fortune. Only yesterday afternoon, he had received a progress report from Dave Matheson on the sale of his four slaves. One of the younger ones had already been sold to the owner of an exclusive gentlemen's club for 6,750 drachmae-considerably more than the slave's initial valuation. Even now he understands the slave is at the chandler's being kitted out and branded for his new master; the slave will start his training at the club this very afternoon. This is an altogether satisfactory result. Dave also told him of the considerable interest shown in his two blond slaves. It appears they have attracted the attention of two elderly sisters, from a prominent family, who are looking for two strong, young slaves to tend their gardens and to pull their carriage. Dave is confident of their sale. Andy recalls that these two slaves are indeed strong and, like the ponies in front of him, they are perfectly matched. He considers they will make noble steeds for their new mistresses. And there had been encouraging news about Toby. Toby had been subjected to two inspections yesterday-both of which were extremely promising. Dave Matheson mentioned that one buyer in particular was keen to buy him for use at his stud. And he knows that at this very moment, his former steward is undergoing a third inspection. Dave is enthusiastic about Toby's showings and suggests that there will be considerable interest shown in him at tomorrow's auction. Dave anticipates there'll be strong bidding for him. Andy is heartened by all this and his anxieties and worries of recent days give way to feelings of relief. But then, Toby intrudes himself into his otherwise happy thoughts. He frowns in annoyance; he really has no need to feel any guilt about selling Toby. After all Toby is a slave and is subject to the same treatment as any other of his slaves. If he chooses to sell Toby then, so be it; he doesn't need to feel bad it, does he? Nevertheless, his nagging guilt remains. Of course, Andy could withdraw Toby from the auction, but he isn't guaranteed of realising the 17,000 drachmae from the sale of the other three slaves. No, at this late stage there isn't any going back; Toby's sale must continue. Now Andy begins to rationalise his actions. Andy had made a conscious decision some time back not to give Toby his freedom. He'd planned on keeping Toby enslaved for the rest of his life, so where is the problem? After all, slaves have absolutely no control over their lives; their destinies are decided for them by their owners. Anyway, did it really matter to a slave who owned him or which master he served? Of course not! One master is as good as another, isn't he? Anyway, once sold, Toby will quickly adjust to his new life with a different master. And really, he doesn't have to explain his actions to any one; least of all a slave. He recalls that his friends, when visiting his home had frequently chided him over Toby's over-familiarity and lack of deference to him. They pointed out that they wouldn't tolerate Toby's behaviour in their slaves and strongly advised Andy to assert his authority over his `uppity' slave. Andy had always ignored their advice, believing them to be wrong and unfair to Toby. Now, desperate to assuage his nagging conscience and to find any justification for his betrayal of his slave, he convinces himself that his friends are right. He tells himself that Toby's behaviour, in recent times, has become too familiar and that the slave has forgotten his proper place in the scheme of things. This is a situation that no master can accept; such behaviour in a slave is intolerable. And Andy blames himself for this. After all, he has always treated Toby with the utmost affection and leniency and has allowed him to assume liberties that a wiser master would never have allowed. No Toby, has become `too big for his loincloth' and needs to be reminded of what he is - a slave and owned property. Andy reasons it's most likely too late for him to re-impose his authority over his `wayward' slave. No, it's in his interest, and in the slave's best interest, to have a new owner bring Toby back into line. Therefore he needn't feel any remorse or regret at selling Toby; it is for the slave's own good. He tells himself that Toby is a `good slave' at heart and will soon settle down to serve his new master with loyalty and devotion. And in the final analysis, this will make Toby a much better slave-obedient and humble as a slave should be. Now, there isn't any doubt in his mind that his decision to sell Toby is the correct one. Or is it? Somewhere buried away at the back of his mind, the nagging question still persists. Andy's mind now turns to other more pleasant matters. He is on his way to Dave Matheson's slave-pens to choose a replacement slave for Toby. The prospect of this cheers him up enormously. When speaking to Dave Matheson yesterday, he'd been assured that the sale of his four slaves would return considerably more that the cost of the statue. He'd asked Dave, if in his opinion, there would be enough money left over to buy one of the newly enslaved prisoners from the northern border dispute. Dave had hastened to tell him that, as these new slaves are "wild and unbroken" stock, they will sell cheaply at auction. And because of this border dispute, he has a glut of such slaves waiting to be sold. Andy should be able to buy one of these slaves quite cheaply. Why not come in and look them over? Of the fifty scheduled for Saturday's auction there were quite a few worthwhile slaves that Andy could consider buying. Consequently, Dave had kindly invited him to visit his slave-pens to privately inspect any slave or slaves that took his fancy. Andy thanked Dave for his invitation and accepted. Now he is on his way to the city to do so. Once more he applies his whip to the ponies' shoulders and urges them on; he is eager to see what slaves Dave Matheson has in stock and if one is a suitable replacement for his former steward, Toby. Already he is thinking of Toby as his former steward. Only yesterday, he'd promoted his most senior overseer to the position of farm steward. The overseer was delighted at his promotion and promised to serve Andy diligently and faithfully. Andy, for his part, is encouraged by the overseer's response; this proves that Toby isn't indispensable after all. He places great store on his new steward's enthusiasm. Andy is greatly heartened by his recent good fortune. Now assured of buying his statue, he is also in the fortunate position of having enough left over to buy a new slave. He congratulates himself on his good business acumen in selling his four slaves. And who knows he could still have money left over to spend on a "grand soire" to introduce his new statue to his artistic friends. His feverish imagination is now in full flight. He'd recently heard of an exotic form of wrestling called, he thinks, mud wrestling. In this form of wrestling, the naked, oiled combatants wrestle one another in a pit of dry earth mixed with oil. Andy visualises the erotic spectacle of a pair strong, muscular slaves straining to beat one another in the slippery environment of the pit. He is sure that some of his field slaves could be matched with one another in `winner takes all' bouts where the winner gets to fuck the looser. He chuckles as he thinks how his slaves will provide his guests with double the entertainment - wrestling and fucking. When he returns to the farm he'll consult with his new overseer about this; he'll need to choose suitable slaves as wrestlers and to have his slaves construct a wrestling pit. He considers it most appropriate to have `live wrestlers' stage an exhibition at the unveiling of his new statue. He compliments himself on his brilliant idea. Of course, he'll have to provide other entertainment for his guests. He will need waiters and other personnel to help out on the evening and he knows his friends will be looking to him to provide them with `pleasurable relief. It won't be possible for him to use his own slaves for this as they are, in the main, only field slaves; his friends are too cultured and too refined to be served by such rough, uncouth brutes. He will need to hire experienced staff for the night and he wonders where he will find them. Perhaps the owner of the gentlemen's club who has just bought his slave hires staff for such events. Anyway, it's a possibility worth exploring; he'll seek the advice of Dave Matheson on this. Who knows, Dave might give him the name of the club and its proprietor. Now his thoughts return to the altogether pleasurable task of considering the purchase of his new slave. What type of slave is he looking for? He supposes this depends largely on what stock Dave Matheson has in his pens. The other morning, as he took his own slaves in for valuation, he'd caught a brief glimpse of that day's offering waiting in their cages prior to being placed on the display platform. He hadn't paid too much attention to them and from memory they appeared to be an indifferent lot; some average, some a little better than average and with, no doubt, one or two above average specimens. It is this latter type of slave he'll be looking at this morning. Already he has decided he wants a young slave-no older than twenty-one or twenty-two- possessing a strong, muscular body with prominent nipples, a firm well-rounded arse, large genitals and handsome features. The slave will also need to have a nice hair covering on his chest with a matching line of hair trailing down over his belly to his cock and balls. Andy really does prefer a slave with body hair; this was always one of Toby's most appealing features. He really doesn't like smooth bodied slaves; he disapproves of the boyish look preferred by some of his arty friends. At this stage, he isn't too concerned with the slave's hair colouring; he remains ambivalent on that. Andy anticipates that his new slave, because of his wild status will require a lot of training to bring him into line with Andy's requirements. He looks forward to this `breaking in' of his new slave. This new slave will play a slightly different role to that played by Toby. Unlike Toby the new slave won't be his farm steward - he has already appointed an overseer to this task. The new slave will, of course, have the very important duty of providing Andy with the `pleasure' that he has always enjoyed with Toby. His other duties will include acting as Andy's body slave-valet. All his friends have personal body slaves and they have, from time to time, commented on his lack of such a slave. In the past he'd never felt the need of a body slave; Toby seemed to meet all his requirements. Now however, it seemed appropriate that he should acquire one; if only to put him on an equal footing with his sophisticated friends. The new slave will be trained to wait on him at table, to serve him drinks, to maintain his chambers and wardrobe and help him in the shower or pool. And Andy's city friends assure him that there isn't anything as relaxing or as sensual as having a slave massage oil into a tired, aching body immediately before bathing. This will certainly be included in the new slave's duties and Andy eagerly looks forward to this innovation in his daily routine. Andy has an erotic vision of him standing naked in the shower after his massage as this new slave soaps him up and cleans him. The tenting in his trousers becomes more evident. Andy is grateful to his friends for introducing him to this more sophisticated and refined lifestyle. Now at the outskirts of the city, Andy pulls back on the reins, slowing his ponies to a walk and guides them through the busy streets to Dave Matheson's dealership. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Part 2: "Good morning, Mr Matheson." Andy greets Dave Matheson. "Please call me, Dave. All my friends and acquaintances do. Do you mind if I call you by your first name? Which do you prefer- Andrew or Andy?" "Please do, Dave. And my friends call me Andy. Thank you for your invitation to look over your stock" "Think nothing of it, Andy. The pleasure's all mind. Tell me what type of slave are you looking for?" "Young - about twenty, good looking and with a strong, muscular body. And well endowed. Do you have any slaves that meet my requirements? "I certainly do, Andy. Presently, we have some prime, fresh, young males in the pens - all newly enslaved. I'm sure you'll find one to your liking. Oh! By the way - before I forget. We had another excellent inspection of your former steward this morning. The client was most impressed and is keen to buy him. That's three clients who will be bidding for him tomorrow. Your prospects of getting a good price for the slave at auction are much improved." "That's great news, Dave. Thank you. It's good to know that he impressed them. How do you see his future?" "Stud duties, Andy." Dave laughs. "These three buyers all see him as a breeder. I should think your slave will lead a very active life under his new owner." Fleetingly, Andy feels horror at the life that now awaits Toby. His nagging sense of guilt resurfaces to trouble him. "Andy, in view of this interest, I'm prepared to revise my original estimate of 8,500. I believe you'll get in excess of 10,000 for the slave. How does that sound?" "That's excellent, Dave." Andy replies all doubts and self-recriminations now gone. "Tell me, where is my slave now. If possible, I'd prefer that he doesn't see me; it could prove distressing for him if we come face to face." "That's very wise of you Andy. And I've anticipated your visit. I've had your three slaves placed in isolation for the duration of your visit. As you rightly suggest your presence could unsettle them. We need to keep them calm for tomorrow's auction. It's better not to have any tantrums. But let's visit the pens and see if we can find you a slave that meets your needs" Andy has never visited the slave holding pens before; very few people do. Normally, Dave only allows special clients into this very private part of his establishment. As they cross the enclosed courtyard, Andy's sense of smell is assailed by the appalling stench of the incarcerated slaves. The smell catches at the back of his throat and he wrinkles his nose in disgust. Dave notices his obvious discomfort and apologises. "I'm sorry about the smell, Andy. But it can't be helped. As a farmer you'd appreciate that all livestock has its own distinctive odour. It's the same with slaves. There's not much we can do about it, however. We try to minimise it by regularly flushing out the drains but that has only limited results. I suppose for those of us who work with slaves, we become somewhat desensitised to their smell." Dave offers as he opens the door into the pens and stands aside for Andy to enter. As he enters, Andy is nauseated by the stench of unwashed bodies, stale sweat, urine, excrement and raw fear. A number of the terrified slaves, knowing that some of them are to be sold tomorrow, have retreated into a state of oblivion. They huddle into the far corners of their pens seeking to put as much distance between them and the horrors that await them at tomorrow's sale. Others stand defiantly and glare their sullen resentment at Andy and Dave through the bars of their cages. Dave is greeted by two semi-naked overseers who ask if he wants the slaves roused to their feet. Dave declines; he prefers to let Andy take his time. Andy slowly wanders down the central passageway peering into the cages on both sides. He is surprised by the sleek, young flesh locked in the pens. The slaves for the most part, are young and have superb physiques. All are tall, long legged and have slim waists. The muscles in their shoulders and arms ripple erotically and their steel hard biceps flex with every movement. As they breathe, their strong, muscular chests rise and fall and their flat, hard abdominals undulate with each breath. Andy is delighted by the way that their muscular thighs support their cheekily protruding buttocks. He is gratified to see that all, without exception are well endowed and that their cocks, resting atop their prominent balls, are in various stages of arousal; some are fully erect, others partially so and others are "resting'" in their flaccid state. Andy supposes their arousal is dependent on the emotional state of their minds. He guesses correctly, that their fear and uncertainty can limit their responses. "Well Andy, do you see any that appeal to you?" "I certainly do, Dave. The trouble is where do I to begin to choose. I'm surprised at their quality. I didn't expect to see so many fit, strong, young slaves." "You're in luck Andy. This is our latest shipment from the north to replace the ones we sold earlier in the week. I understand that they are all ex-military and have only recently been captured; that would account for their fitness. The only down side to this is their wildness. They'll need to be severely handled by their new owners to tame them. As you can see we've put heavy shackles on them to keep them in check." As Andy walks down the passage he stops in surprise before a cage holding a single slave. Andy can hardly believe what he sees. The lonely slave is of course naked as are all his fellows. However, that is where the similarity ends. Whilst the other slaves are young and fit, this ageing slave is really a grotesque caricature. Aged about forty-five or so, the slave is of average height, balding and very much out of condition. His round puffy face is heavily jowled, his eyes are red from weeping and his nose is running. Round shouldered and with a sunken chest, his flabby pectorals hang loose atop his round, protruding belly which conceals his small, insignificant genitals buried deep within an unkempt bush of thick, greying, pubic hair. His thin, slightly bowed legs support his wrinkled, sagging buttocks. His mottled skin is pasty white and his arms, legs, chest and belly are covered in long, coarse, `pepper and salt' hair. He is newly branded and now bears the angry, blistering S for slave on his left flank; mandatory for all slaves. When he sees Dave he begins to plead and his chest heaves from his sobbing. Dave ignores the wretched slave and laughingly says. "Let me introduce you to Lot 1 at tomorrow's auction. We've given him star billing. He has the honour being the opening lot at the sale. Does, he interest you Dave? Or isn't he quite what you're looking for?" "I don't understand; what's he doing here? He is so out of place." "I know, Andy. He was only sentenced to life enslavement in court yesterday. You see, I currently have the contact to sell all court enslaved criminals. Under the terms of the contract I have to sell him at the first available sale- which is tomorrow." "But why? What has he done?" Andy asks. "He was a prominent city business man from all accounts. I think his crime was embezzlement or bankruptcy or perhaps both. I don't really recollect. Anyway it'll be recorded in his enslavement papers; the auctioneer is obliged to read it out to the buyers tomorrow when he's sold." "Poor devil!" Andy says sympathetically as he looks at the terrified, sobbing slave. "Don't waste your sympathy on him, Andy. He's guilty and is paying the penalty for his recklessness. Still we'll have fun with him tomorrow." "What do you mean? How will you have fun with him?" "He'll provide the comic relief. Can you picture him chained on the display platform among all the other fit, young slaves before the auction? He'll be the subject of much public scorn and ridicule and he'll be tormented mercilessly." "That all seems unnecessarily cruel, doesn't Dave?" "That's the least of his trouble. Wait until the auctioneer has him standing on the block. Then he'll really be humiliated. The auctioneers always enjoy selling a slave like him; it gives them an opportunity to demonstrate the comic side of their natures." "How do they do that?" "Well," Dave laughs "picture the pathetic sight he'll make as he stands on the block in front of the buyers. The auctioneer will play up the angle of him being a prime piece of slave flesh worthy of the most discerning owner. He'll poke fun at his impressive physique, his strong body and of course his well-endowed cock and balls. He'll make the slave stand at display and flex his muscles; and he'll have him `turn, bend and spread'. That usually brings the house down. The buyers always enjoy a laugh at the expense of these court enslaved criminals. That's why we've given him number one spot. The auctioneer knows how to work his audience, how to loosen them up and put them into a jovial mood. It relaxes the buyers and we find they are keener to bid on the real slaves on offer. Look, Andy it's all done in fun; nobody is hurt. And the buyers really enjoy it." "Everyone except for the slave; I don't think he'll find it very funny. I still don't know, Dave. I feel sorry for the slave." "Andy, you're right, the slave doesn't enjoy it; but he isn't meant to. It's all part of his punishment. As you can imagine the slave is shamed by his very public humiliation. It does however, impress upon him that he is now a slave and a very lowly one at that. It helps him to accept his new status." "What'll happen to him? Who'll buy him?" "He'll sell very cheaply. He'll sell for the proverbial song really. Perhaps he'll fetch 700 to 800 drachmae. If he's lucky he could end up as a live-in cleaner-janitor in a rest-room. But my guess is he'll probably end up chained to a work- bench or assembly line in a factory. Anyway, looking at him he won't last long; about two to four years at the most." Andy is appalled at the wretched slave's grim predicament. This is an aspect of slavery he has never seen before or even thought about. He shudders at the slave's grim future as he moves on to the next pen. Now he stands transfixed as he peers through the bars at the cage's inmates. As Andy looks into the pen, its traumatised occupants move as one to the back wall and crowd together like a mob of frightened sheep seeking mutual protection from a predator-except for two. These two slaves stand defiantly, in a fighting stance, and stare with hate-filled eyes at Andy and Dave. Andy breath is taken away at the sight of these two magnificent, young slaves. Both are tall, blond, blue eyed and have well defined muscular bodies. They stand proudly in their enforced nakedness and return Andy's stare with insolence. Andy knows these two will be hard to `break' and will give their new masters much trouble before they are tamed into submission. Andy is excited at the thought of this. One slave stands slightly in front of the other and has the bearing of a leader; the other slave stands just behind him in an attitude of support. It is obvious that these two, unlike their fellows huddled at the back of the pen, haven't as yet yielded to their captors. Both stand defiant and each proudly wears the stripes of this defiance on their shoulders and asses; obviously they have tasted the whips and canes of the overseers. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Grigor Grigor stands his ground and stares back at the two men peering into his prison. He recognises one as the man who is in charge of this appalling place; the younger one he guesses to be a visitor. What is the purpose of his visit he wonders? Turning slightly, he sees that his corporal, Axel stands ready to support him should the need arise. Grigor, as sergeant of his unit, feels a responsibility for the men huddled behind him. He is still coming to grips with their ambush and capture by the enemy forces, their delivery into the hands of the slavers and their subsequent brandings. He considers that he and his men are prisoners-of-war and has on several occasions demanded that they be treated as such. Each time he was rewarded with a beating. His faithful corporal, Axel, coming to his aid, shared his punishment. Both men are bloodied but remain unbowed. Both Grigor and Axel remain defiant and promise each other that they will NEVER yield. They will NEVER submit to slavery and they will NEVER bow down to a master. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Turning to Dave Andy asks. "Dave, I'd like to inspect these two slaves. Is that possible?" "I don't think that would be wise, Andy." Dave replies worriedly. "These two are the wildest in the pens. As you can see they are heavily shackled. Let's choose some other tamer slaves for you to look at?" "No Dave! These are the two that interest me. I want to finger them." "Very well then Andy. I don't agree with your choice. But it's your decision. I only hope it's the right one. I'll have them taken to an inspection room and made ready for you. However, that could take a little while as we'll need extra overseers to subdue them. ARE YOU SURE, ANDY?" "I'm quite sure, Dave. One of these two will be my new slave. The problem for me is - which one will it be?" To be continued..................

CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES A Sequel to "A Reversal of Fortune" Chapter 28: "Destiny awaits Rafe" This is a story is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) "The characters and ideas in this story are the writer's and shouldn't be used without permission" Chapter 28: "Destiny awaits Rafe" It's a strange homecoming! Turning off the isolated country road into the long, sweeping driveway of La Fort Plantation, I'm swept up in the whirlpool of my emotions and suddenly I'm very afraid. My destiny has finally caught up with me. Last time I visited here, it was as Lucien Barrois, the proud owner of La Fort. Today, I return as the new slave, Rafe and I am terrified. One part of me knows what awaits me here on the plantation and yet there are so many other unknown factors at play within my troubled mind. I am well aware of how the plantation operates. I know of the miserable lot of the unhappy wretches who labour under the lash of La Fort's enthusiastic black overseers. I'm aware of their soul-destroying drudgery as they toil in the vast agricultural fields to enrich their owner. These things I know and understand. My experience of life at La Fort is like the two sides of a coin. Its obverse side saw me as the Master of the plantation and now its converse side sees me as one of its many hapless slaves doomed to unrelenting toil and unimaginable suffering. But I'm yet to learn of the slaves' real suffering. I'm yet to experience the hunger pangs of an unsatisfied belly, the awful thirst of toiling under the blazing sun, the long, backbreaking hours of unremitting labour and the all too few hours of rest. And my back is yet to feel the fiery bite of the overseers' whips as they spur me to greater effort in my Master's interests. My life is about to change in ways that I can only imagine but can't fully comprehend. The foundations of La Fort's grand colonial mansion were laid down by my slave-trading ancestor, Jean-Marc de Barrois several centuries ago and progressively, they have been added to by successive generations of the Barrois family. The last major alterations to the mansion - and it extensive grounds - were undertaken under the direction of my late grandmother with the same impeccable flair with which she'd modernised the Barrois town house -now home to the Maratier family. My grandmother loved La Fort with a passion and spared nothing in bringing it up to a standard that she thought reflected the prestige of the "aristocratic' Barrois family. The Barrois had always thought of themselves this way; they saw themselves as the "New World" descendants of an ancient and noble lineage, the French de Barrois family. And it had never troubled them too much that Jean-Marc de Barrois was in fact a disreputable and opportunistic slave-trader. They preferred to view him as a principled privateer who'd made his fortune from seizing the vessels of France's enemies. My grandfather, who shared his wife's passion for La Fort, gave my grandmother a free hand and unlimited funds in her endeavours and today it stands as a monument to their love of the Barrois ancestral home. The mansion itself is positioned on a small rise almost at the centre of the plantation and is reached by the long, winding, white gravelled driveway on which we are travelling. The branches of the magnificent, ancient trees lining both sides of the driveway touch over our heads and entwine to create a cool, green tunnel that provides shelter from the winter winds and the summer's heat. As a small boy, it had been a favourite spot of mine and I'd often played here searching for the unique flora and fauna that thrives in this environment. However, today it assumes a fearsome aspect as I trot by Norge's side. Apart from my own rasping breath, the only other sounds are the laboured breathing of Norge and Pollux, the scrunching sound of the trap's wheels in the loose gravel and the pounding of our feet. Running on the gravelled surface is difficult; my feet are still tender and not yet use to being unshod. In contrast, both Norge's and Pollux's feet are hardened - but they have been slaves longer than me- and I suppose my soles will eventually callous over to protect me too. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Suddenly, I'm aware that my Master and his son have fallen silent. Ever since we resumed our journey after their luncheon break, they'd been extremely talkative and their excitement as they neared La Fort was all too evident. Master Etienne had bombarded his father with questions about the plantation and clearly my Master didn't have the answers to his son's questions. Until a few days ago both father and son had lived pecuniary lives and never in their wildest dreams would they have envisaged such wealth as they now possess. As members of the disinherited Maratier family they'd never been invited to La Fort -indeed their existence was never acknowledged by my grandparents -and any knowledge they did have of it would have come from my Master's grandmother, Charlotte Maratier. But even her knowledge of the place would be limited to her memories of the time before her ostracism by her parents. Other than that what they did know about "La Fort" would be hearsay. La Fort was well known as the ancestral seat of the immensely wealthy Barrois clan - everybody knew of it but very few ever had seen its grandeur for themselves. The aristocratic but intensely private Barrois family always saw the plantation as a retreat from the mundane and the inane. It had provided them with a quiet refuge from the city's social and business elite and they rarely issued invitations to visit there. They preferred to use their city residence for any essential entertaining of their social inferiors. There were some notable exceptions to this rule however. As a boy, my grandparents had allowed me to bring my three closest friends, Miles, Jack and Daniel to stay during the long, school breaks. I'd always looked forward to their visits and they provided a welcome break in the loneliness of my boyhood. As an only child without parents, I had always hungered for the company of my peers and over the years, I came to regard my three friends as the siblings I never had but longed for. It's true to say I grew to love all three of them as brothers and the memory of those days are bittersweet. Now those three friends are lost to me forever. The days spent with Miles, Jack and Daniel were full of fun and excitement. I was of course viewed by everyone - both slaves and overseers - on the plantation as the `young Master" and my slightest wish was their command. The slaves feared me and the black overseers indulged me. I was very close to the chief overseer, Claymore Jackson and most days I could be found in his company as he toured the fields checking on the slaves' work output. Among my earliest memories are those of Claymore chastising an errant slave or bawling out an overseer for being too lenient with his work gang. I suppose it was Claymore's uncompromising sternness that helped form my antipathy towards slaves. Growing up surrounded by them, I couldn't help but regard them as little more than work animals similar to a heavy duty, draft horse or a plough ox. I only ever saw them collectively working together in gangs under the supervision of their overseers and so my young mind never noticed a slave's individuality. To be honest, I don't ever remember giving too much thought to our slaves - they were ever present but they never really intruded into my boyish thoughts. I failed to make any distinction between my grandfather's slave herd and those of his cattle, horses and sheep. But those days spent in the company of my three friends were joyously carefree ones for me. Our days were filled with fun and laughter. We swam in the wide river that formed the northern boundary of the plantation but I was always under the vigilant eyes of the body slaves my grandmother assigned to watch over me as we roamed free over the plantation's six thousand acres. Excitedly, we explored the cool, shaded forests that to this day still cover a large swathe of the plantation and within their dark depths we played games that both fired our boyish imaginations and satisfied our high spirits. These forests are but the mere remnants of the vast forest which once covered the entire plantation and which gave it the name - La Fort. Another of our favourite pastime was hitching a ride on one of the many drays that moved around the plantation hauling fertiliser and other equipment into the fields and returning to the storage and packaging shed with freshly harvested produce. It was exciting for us to sit atop the heavy loads and look down on the naked slaves straining into their harnesses as they were driven onward by the whips of their black overseers. Enthusiastically, we added our boyish voices to those of the loud shouts and exhortations of the impatient overseers as they constantly encouraged the struggling slaves to do better. We considered it very daring to use the abusive language of the black overseers when addressing their white charges. My grandmother would have been horrified to hear me use the common patois of the overseers; but I was the "young Master" and they both indulged and encouraged us to join with them in their incessant demands to the struggling slaves to apply themselves to their labours. All four of us readily identified with the overseers and we felt very grown-up in their company. When we grew tired of this, we'd turn our attention to the hapless slaves sweating in my grandfather's fields. We enjoyed teasing and taunting them simply because we could. We knew the slaves couldn't answer back and must just suffer our cruel jibes in resigned silence. Our particular favourites were the young, teen-aged slaves just a few years older than ourselves and they became the particular targets of our insensitivity. As they toiled, we'd taunt them about their nakedness and make crude references to the genitals. One favourite pastime was the game of "bullseye" where we'd pelt their asses with clods of earth; bent double at their labours, the young slaves did make inviting, moving targets. We were enthusiastically encouraged by the black overseers who took great delight in seeing a white ass used as a target and sometimes a young, black, apprentice overseer would join us and give us lessons in the finer points of "chucking". It has to be said all four of us strived to outdo one another at hitting out targets and it's true that "practise does makes perfect". By the end of the holidays, we were all experts at aiming at and hitting the bullseye. Not once did we ever consider the slaves' feeling and if they did feel any shame or humiliation at our treatment of them, then their fear of the overseers' whip stopped them from showing their true feelings. Today, as I return to the plantation as a slave, I do however remember an occasion when a young slave rebelled and shouted at us to. "Stop it, you little fuckers." He paid a heavy price for his shouted defiance. Two overseers descended upon him and applied their whips to his back with such vigour that he fell to his knees and begged them to stop. But such an act of defiance was unpardonable and his disrespect to the young Master couldn't go unpunished. They ignored his tearful pleas and continued to whip him into submission. That day, I'm sure my grandfather's black overseers broke the young, white slave's spirit as they beat him onto his knees. Fleetingly, I did feel some guilt as I realised that, indirectly we'd been the cause of his punishment. Guiltily, I understood that we had goaded him to a point where he'd snapped and hit out at his tormentors. But as my three friends laughed at the young slave's distress, I'd quickly overcome any sense of wrong and joined them in their amusement. After that, guilt over a slave's treatment never overly troubled me. That is until I purchased Norge. For some unexplained reason he aroused within me a sense that I was doing him a great wrong. Later, I asked Claymore about this slave's background and I discovered he had only recently been tried by the courts and found guilty of antisocial behaviour and enslaved. Ruled by the presiding judge as "incorrigible and beyond redemption", he'd been sent to a clearing-house for juvenile offenders where my grandfather had bought him cheaply in a job lot of ten, newly enslaved youths. My grandfather was partial to buying new slaves under this system. He believed you "bought them young and trained them hard". Now as I trot up the driveway, I wonder if the slave still works on the property. There is every chance that he does and if so I estimate that he'd now be aged in his late twenties or early thirties. For some strange reason, I wonder if our paths will cross. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I wonder about my Master's continuing silence. But I'm not surprised by it. After, all given the poverty of his life to date, it would be hard for him to grasp that he is now the owner of this magnificent plantation; just weeks ago such a possibility would be unimaginable. The realisation that all this now belongs to him is sufficient reason for him being rendered temporarily speechless. I can well imagine his awe as we draw nearer to La Fort's mansion; he is yet to be confronted by its architectural grandeur and the beauty of its surrounding gardens. But this beautiful driveway, with its avenue of ancient, stately trees, hints at the magnificence that awaits him and his son Etienne around the next sweeping bend. Suddenly Master orders Norge to stop and all three of us enjoy a welcome respite from our running. Our Master has paused to watch the activities in the adjacent fields and as my breathing returns to normal, I too look out through the trees into the sun drenched crops of golden, ripening grain. The fields are a chequer board of varying shades of yellow and they range from the soft mellow of the oats - now being harvested by teams of sweating, naked slaves - to the green tinged, tawny brown of the still ripening wheat and barley. These fields are the scene of much activity and my blood is chilled by the sight of so many wretched slaves industriously engaged in harvesting the oat crops. Even from this distance I can see the stress their labours place upon their sweat stained, sun darkened bodies. At the forefront there is a line of slaves who, working abreast of one another, use long, sharp scythes to fell the tall growing oat stalks just an inch or so above ground level. Their actions are synchronised and the sweep of their scythes are in unison and it is obvious they are well trained and conditioned for this work. There is something almost graceful in their body movements as they steadily move forward. Their tall, lean bodies twist and turn with each sweep of their scythes and I am reminded of a choreographed and well-rehearsed dance troupe. The mid-afternoon sun glints on their naked torsos and their sweat highlights the working of the muscles of their arms and upper bodies as they follow through with their scythes. From my vantage point in the cool shade of the driveway, I look out into the sunny, unshaded field as the slaves move relentlessly forward with robotic resignation. I can hear their laboured breathing and the gentle "swish" of the scythes cutting through the rustling stalks. I hear their soft moans as their tired muscles protest at the ceaseless demands made of them. Their labour is unremitting but still the overseers aren't satisfied. The overseers' angry whips crackle frighteningly through the air demanding more of their charges and as the lash cuts across their unprotected backs the suffering slaves respond positively to the demands made of them. But these slaves are the lucky ones in that they work upright. Following close behind them are other slaves, who work bent doubled over as they gather up the scythed oat stalks, tie them into sheaves and place them into stooks ready for picking up and carting into the distant threshing sheds? Their stooped backs make tempting targets for the lash! Lucien Barrois had always found pleasure in such pastoral scenes. To his eyes there was satisfaction in watching as another plentiful crop was successfully gathered in. He'd looked beyond the suffering of his slaves - their hardships were inconsequential - and he'd taken pride in "his" achievement of harvesting yet another bountiful crop. But as the slave, Rafe I now see things very differently. I see the sweating, groaning slaves toiling under the lash and I hear the loud, abusive shouting of their black overseers making impossible demands of them. I watch as whips fall on their unprotected backs and I hear the pain filled cries of the hapless, helpless victims of the obscene inhumanity that is slavery. Ironically, I reflect on my description of what is happening in the fields as "inhumane". Lucien would never have agreed with this. To his mind, my use of the word "inhumanity" would have been erroneous. He would never have ascribed "humanity" to his slaves; they ceased to be human from the moment they became his slaves. Bitterly, I am reminded of this as I contemplate my own fate. Is it possible that tomorrow, I could be one of their number labouring and sweating under the lash as I stoop to gather up my Master's crop? Is my Master reading my thoughts? Certainly his question to me would indicate he is. "Well Rafe," he asks mockingly, "what do you think? No doubt you and Pollux will be working in a similar gang tomorrow. Do you think you'll `fit in' with the other slaves? Will you be able to keep up with them? But I shouldn't worry if you can't. I'm sure the overseers will be keen to assist you?" My Master is mocking me and I should be used to his taunts and jibes; but I'm not. Since my enslavement, Guy Maratier sometimes reminds of what I once was and what I now am. This is just such an occasion. He is reminding me of my most grievous loss - my loss of freedom. He is gloatingly reminding me that I am a slave and that I now belong to him. I have no answers to his latest taunts and I remain silent. This angers him and furiously he lashes out at me with his driver's whip. I stand helpless as his whip rains down on my shoulders. How many times does he strike me? I don't know. Perhaps three, four, or is it five or six times. I'm not counting. But as I yelp under his furious onslaught I know that my suffering under the light driving whip is as nothing to that of the slaves in the adjacent field. Compared to the fiery venom of the overseers' whips the pain of my Master's is little more than a wasp's sting. The true pain for me is in the humiliation I feel as my Master publicly beats me like a disobedient dog. "ANSWER ME, DAMN YOU! I asked you a question, slave. You still have a lot to learn about proper respect for your master. I'll speak to the head overseer about having you broken in as a real slave. NOW ANSWER ME!" Through my tears of wounded pride, I apologise to my Master "I'm sorry Master. Forgive me Master but I meant no disrespect. Master I will do my best to be a good slave and to work hard for you." My answer placates him and my beating stops. He is now ready to move on. But before he does so he hands Norge's reins to his son. Master Etienne is to have his first driving lesson within the secluded safety of La Fort's driveway. He instructs his son to move us forward and all three of us respond to our young Master's shrill, boyish order to. "Walk on!" As we move forward, our Master gives Master Etienne lessons in the finer points of driving a pony and trap. "Remember, son, you direct the pony to do as you want and NOT as he wants to do. Of course he has a degree of intelligence and it's only necessary to give him verbal commands like `walk on!' and `stop!' to control his movements. And you further control his speed by other commands such as `walk!', `trot!' `jog!' and `run!' You determine how fast you want the pony to travel and you instruct him in what you expect from him. Do you think you can do that, Etienne?" "Dad, this is so easy!" Master Etienne answers and flicks the driver's whip at Norge's exposed back as he orders him to. "Trot!" Master Etienne has neither the expertise nor the strength-of -arm for the whip to cause Norge any pain; its touch is merely akin to the annoying sting of an insect. Nevertheless, Norge knows what is expected of him and breaks into a brisk trot. Of necessity, Pollux and I must keep pace with him. Our Master continues to give his son instructions in the use and control of Norge. "Etienne! The whip is a valuable tool for a driver to have. You use it to `speak' to the pony. Through it you `tell' the pony what you want him to do. As a new driver, it's a skill I'm still mastering and you'll need to learn how to use it too." "What did I do wrong Dad? Didn't I hit him hard enough?" "I'm sure Norge felt the whip, Etienne." My Master speaks encouragingly to his son. "But there's a skill in using a driver's whip. It not simply a matter of lashing out at the pony and striking him with your whip; there's more to it than that." "Then show me, Dad! Show me how to use the whip properly?" "Etienne, you have to learn to control the whip through the movements of your wrist and to aim it at specific areas of the pony's body where it does the most good. Here, let me show you!" My Master takes the whip from his son and taking careful aim; he deftly flicks the tip of it in between Norge's legs just below his buttocks. Of course he'd deliberately aimed the whip's tip at his pony's low hanging testicles as they swung free. Poor Norge! The bit in his mouth prevents him from crying out but I do hear his gasp of pain and I can only wonder at the sickening feeling he must feel in the pit of his stomach. As any male knows - his balls are his most vulnerable spot - and I think back to those very rare times when I had inadvertently injured my own. The memories of the dull ache I'd experienced on those occasions arouse my sympathy for poor Norge. But the whip has the desired effect; Norge thrusts forward into his harness and increases his speed. Conveniently, I overlook the fact that I'd treated Norge no better than our Master is doing. When I'd driven him I'd used the whip in an identical fashion. It had never occurred to me that I was causing him pain. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> My grandfather had taught me to drive a pony-trap at a similar age to young Master Etienne and he'd also instructed me in the use of the driving whip. I recall my grandfather advising me to use the whip judiciously and not to overuse it otherwise I'd confuse the pony's mind. He told me there needed to be a bond between a driver and his pony built on the mutual understanding of what each expected from the other. Understandably, he driver would expect his pony to perform to the very best of his abilities and when required to give that little bit of extra effort demanded of him. The pony, for his part, could expect to be treated fairly - well fed., housed in a warm, dry stable and not subjected to unnecessarily harsh beatings. Like my Master's comments to his son of a few minutes ago, my grandfather had also taught me to speak to our ponies through the whip. My grandfather said the whip should be used to guide a pony and never as a means of punishment. Although there were rare times when he broke that rule; these occurred whenever a pony "acted up" or refused to co-operate with him. Then he'd lay into the pony with his driving whip but any damage to the pony was superficial. The driving whip lacks the vigour and impact of an overseer's bullwhip. He'd taught me not to use the driving whip capriciously or sadistically. He disapproved of those drivers who misused their ponies and he strongly deplored seeing the back and shoulders of a pony permanently scarred by the whip. I'd sometimes wondered how his aversion to seeing a pony marked by the whip sat with his indifference to his field slaves. After all their backs were permanently scarred and more often than not were laid open and bloodied by the lash. Once I asked him about this and he told me it all had to with ascetics; that the appearance of the field hands wasn't of any importance and really for a field slave a whipped-scarred back was a natural consequence of his condition. A pony however was different. Grandfather said he couldn't speak for others but for him personally it was all about appearance. He placed great store in driving a well turned-out pony and trap and noting the admiring glances of any onlookers. For him a pony was always on show and should reflect his driver's pride of ownership. But he added it was permissible for a pony to wear the stripes of his driver's whip on his buttocks. Speaking of which, grandfather taught me - as our Master is now teaching his son - what parts of a pony's body re-act best to the whip. He'd told me the back and shoulders weren't the most responsive and whipping the pony in these areas wasn't the best use of the whip. Rather he advised that I should direct the whip at the pony's arse. Under his tutelage, I soon learned that this part of the pony's anatomy was indeed very sensitive and responsive to the whip's sting. Then, once I'd mastered this, he took me one step further and told me of a pony's most sensitive spot and the one that could coax the best out of the laziest pony. He was of course, speaking of the pony's testicles. Most ponies are well-endowed -or at least the ones used by my grandfather were. It was a pre-requisite of his that a pony sport impressive genitalia and that he showed well as he ran in harness. I still have memories from my boyhood of looking out from the driver's seat at a pair of low hanging balls that swung freely from side to side as the pony ran. And as they jiggled up and down, they made a tempting target for my boyish exuberance. Grandfather showed me how to carefully aim the whip at the pony and how to skilfully twist my wrist to just flick his balls. There is an art in doing this and I have to admit I was a slow learner. But he was patient with me and persevered. After much trial and error I did master the skill but at what cost to the pony I never knew - or overly cared. Master Etienne is now learning this from his father much as I had from my grandfather and I wonder if he is deriving the same pleasure from his driving lessons as I did from mine. Of course, the secret is in the wrist action and I know from my own experience it will be some time before Master Etienne perfects this. In the meantime, I suppose poor Norge will suffer from very sore balls as a result of his young master's driving lesson. Again the secret is not to injure the pony but to gently flick the tip of the whip against his balls with just enough force to startle him into action. At the end of each run, my grandfather would solicitously examine his pony's balls for any sign of swelling or other injury and apply a soothing, cream to any red welts that the whip had raised. My grandfather taught me well and I remembered his lessons from my boyhood and I'd never used the driver's whip for anything other than its intended purpose. That is to encourage my pony to greater speed and effort and never as an instrument of punishment. Grandfather was always gentler in his treatment of his personal ponies than he was with his field slaves. Whilst they lived a harsh existence of hard, unremitting labour, insufficient rest, basic food, and the strictest discipline, his personal pony was spoiled and he lived a life of comparative luxury. Grandfather was most fastidious in seeing that his pony was well taken of; he insisted his pony was hosed down at the end of the day and his body dried and oiled before he was placed in his stall for the night. He took a personal interest in his pony's well-being and ensured he always had dry, clean straw for his bedding and that he was feed a special diet that sustained him in his heavy, running duties. Grandfather expected much from his pony and when necessary he'd drive him hard but a bond did exist between them. The pony knew what was expected of him and he gave of his best in his master's interest secure in the knowledge that my grandfather "valued" him and would take care of him. There was softness in my grandfather's handling of his pony; it was affection that I recognised as the same one feels towards a pet dog or a favourite horse. Most recently, I had similar feelings for Norge which rapidly grew into something deeper than the mere liking of a favourite animal. Grandfather was always solicitous of his pony's comfort. He carried a container of water in the luggage compartment of his trap and whenever he saw his pony sweating to excess or showing signs of heat stress, he'd guide him to a stop in a shady spot and give him water to refresh him. And there were occasions when, after the pony had performed particularly well, my grandfather would show his appreciation by gently - almost lovingly - stroking the pony's flanks and reward him with a small portion of apple. This way the pony knew that he'd earned his master's approval and it was touching to watch as he nuzzled into my grandfather's cupped hand and nibbled his reward while his arse was patted. But my grandfather's was a complex personality. He was very conscious of whom he was - the head of the Barrois family and the richest man in the country - and he was intensely proud to the point of haughtiness. Within the business and commercial spheres, he had a reputation for scrupulous honesty and integrity but possessed ruthlessness that was second to none. He had a business acumen that saw the Barrois family holdings expand rapidly under his stewardship and he didn't suffer fools lightly; as many unfortunates discovered to their cost. Consequently, he was admired, envied and feared in equal measure by all who worked for him or who had business dealings with him. But the side to him that I knew best was that of the loving husband and doting grandfather; he could deny neither my grandmother nor me anything. His personal life revolved around us and he gave us everything we desired. However, his stern attitude towards his slaves was another matter. His treatment of them was uncompromisingly hard and he wouldn't tolerate either laziness or disobedience from them. He spared them neither hard labour nor the whip. Through his black overseers, he ruled them with a rod of iron and all our slaves feared him. And he used this fear to cower them into unquestioning submission. Quite deliberately he'd chosen to use black overseers to control his slaves who for the most part were white. Instinctively, he knew of the black man's ingrained sense of his superiority over the white man and he used this to his advantage. The black overseers were zealous in their control of their white charges and it could be said this was a labour of love for them. They knew how to squeeze the last amount of effort out of a white slave. Grandfather had a genuine admiration for his black overseers and in particularly for his head overseer, Claymore Jackson. Both men were close; they liked and admired each other and both worked to maximise the output from the plantation's slaves. Whilst he might not agree with the idea of black supremacy over whites, grandfather nevertheless encouraged his overseers to both believe and practise it. This way he effectively maximised his profits from his slaves and at the same time held them in check under black dominance. My grandfather was a strong advocate for slavery and he'd argue passionately on the subject with anyone foolish enough to espouse anti-slavery sentiments. During his lifetime, there were within the wider community some misguided fools who suggested that slavery was an evil blight on civilised society and it should be abolished. They argued that, at the very least, slaves should be treated leniently in recognition of their humanity. Grandfather would have none of this nonsense! He saw slavery as a useful tool in gainfully employing the criminal and the undesirable elements of the community. He regarded this use of society's rejects as beneficial to the wider good and a valuable resource to be utilised by the more entrepreneurial citizens. In grandfather's view, once a man was enslaved he ceased to be a man and became a beast of burden to be used to his owner's advantage. And so it was with his slaves. I recall my grandfather stating that it made absolutely no difference how you treated a slave; whether it was with kid gloves or an iron fist, the slave's nature was the same. Given the opportunity, he'd rebel against his master. He advanced the argument that slaves must always be kept "in their place" - for fear of this rebellion - and how an owner did this was entirely his prerogative. A classical scholar, well-versed in the writings of the ancient Greeks and Romans, he adhered very much to the views of one such writer. This writer, commenting on the murder of a Roman citizen by his own slaves and their subsequent execution warned of the dangers confronting a slave -owner. He said no master could feel safe simply because he treated his slaves with kindness and that it was the brute nature of slaves rather than their capacity to reason that caused slaves to rise up against their masters. My grandfather held strongly to this and he certainly kept his slaves on a tight leash through the oversight of his black overseers. Grandfather had taught these things to Lucien Barrois. I wonder what would be his feelings and attitude to the slave, Rafe. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>. We are now less than a mile from the house and young Master Etienne is becoming more confident in his driving. Of course, he's not to know that Norge is aware of what is required of him and that he is giving of his best to please his young, novice driver. Etienne, encouraged by his father, is enthusiastically applying the whip to Norge. Etienne lacks the skills to accurately handle the whip and so it's very much hit and miss with the lash fallen on different parts of Norge's body. And fortunately for Norge, his young driver lacks the strength in his arm for the lash to painful - it is more of an irritant than an encouragement to run faster. Still Norge senses what is expected of him and - well-trained pony that he is - he runs faster. And I am forced to increase my speed to keep pace with him and Pollux. Then - more by good fortune than design - Master Etienne has a lucky strike - the tip of his whip snakes in under Norge's buttocks, between his legs and painfully flicks his low hanging balls. Norge's response is immediate and predictable. I hear his grunt of pain as he bites down on his bit and I feel his power surge as he involuntarily thrusts forward into his harness in an effort to avoid the whip. I'm very familiar with Norge's response to the driver's whip. I have seen it so often when I have been in the driver's seat and I'd never thought twice about the pain I'd caused him. Now as I run by his side, I have a new awareness of my past actions and I am ashamed. But unlike Norge who has felt the whip, I can only imagine at the intensity of the pain it can cause to one's testicles. Of course, I'm well aware of their sensitivity and I have once or twice, during my life time, accidentally knocked my own. And I recall the instant pain and the sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach that caused me to dry retch before the pain's intensity finally subsided into a dull, lingering ache. Drawing on those memories, I can imagine Norge's discomfort. Strange that I'd never considered this before now. Then, through my thoughts, I hear our Master congratulate his son on his burgeoning driving skills. "Well done, Etienne! We'll make a driver of you yet." "Thanks Dad! It's easy driving a pony. Did you see how he ran faster when I whipped his .........?" "What son? What were you going to say - his balls?" "Yes Dad! But Mum told me to never use that kind of talk." "Well son, your mother is right - up to a point. Those aren't the words that a gentlemen uses in polite society and you must now remember that you are Etienne Maratier and my heir. People will expect you to speak and act like a young gentleman. But your mother's not here and I won't mind if you use those words when we're talking about a slave. But just watch what you say in front of free adults and never use those words in front of your great-grandmother. Remember!" "I will Dad! So it's alright if I say balls?" "With me - yes! And I would think you'll hear the overseers at the plantation use words that are far worse than that. However, you must remember they will be talking about slaves and not free men." "OK Dad, I'll remember! Will I whip the pony some more to make him run faster?" "No, I think he's running at a good pace. We don't want him breaking his stride. If you want to practise some more try using the whip on the other two slaves. Give me the whip and I show you how." I hear my two Masters' conversation but my gaze is fixed straight ahead as we round the last, sweeping bend in the driveway and at last the double storied mansion comes into view. Through the surrounding trees I see its colonnaded facade gleaming white in the mid afternoon sun. The rounding of this final bend had always the highlight of my trips to La Fort; it had signalled my arrival at my beloved plantation. The house sits on a slightly elevated knoll that looks out over the surrounding fields - all of which are now hives of industry as the slaves labour to bring in the harvest. I'd spent many a pleasant hour relaxing on the cool, shaded porch that surrounds three sides of the house sipping mint julep or iced tea and watching as my slaves laboured to enrich me. I'd always had binoculars on hand so that I could - if necessary - check that all was going well in the fields. Not that I ever needed to worry for Claymore Jackson and his black overseers managed quite well without my input. Still, as the owner of the plantation and the Master of its slaves, I felt I needed to keep an eye on things. I'd always had two, young, house slaves attend me at these times; one standing by to refill my glass as required and the other to work the ceiling mounted pukka fan which was similar in design to the one so favoured by the British Raj in India. This oblong shaped fan was suspended from the ceiling and operated through a system of pulleys and ropes worked by a slave whose task it was to keep it moving backwards and forwards in an effort to keep the air circulating and me cooler. I could of course have had powered, overhead fans installed and perhaps these would have been more efficient in the stifling summer heat. But I rather enjoyed watching as the slave worked to keep me comfortable. There was an irony in this; the slave made to sweat profusely as he kept his Master cool. Anyway there was an element of decadence in having a slave perform this humiliating task that I quite liked. There was something exotic in watching the erotic play of his muscles under his sweat sheen. The house is still some five hundred yards away and young Etienne has time to practise his whipping skills on Pollux and me. But first his father takes the whip from him and gives him a demonstration in its use. I shudder as I wonder which of the two of us he'll choose for his first demonstration. Will it be Pollux? Or will it be me? I don't have long to wait. I hear both the whip's swish as it travels through the air and loud thwack as it cuts across the cheeks of my naked ass. Unlike Norge, neither Pollux nor I wear bits in our mouths and I'm free to give voice to my pain. And even as it fades away it is replaced with my shriek of outraged pain as the tip of the whip licks my balls with its fiery fury. I re-act automatically; I lurch forward in an effort to escape the pain but I am restrained by the wrist shackles that bind me to the trap's shaft. Unable to escape, the whip finds its mark for a second time and I hear my terrified, pain-filled shriek. I have never felt such pain and inexplicably the thought flashes through my mind that if my Master makes good with his plans to turn me into a pony then such pain will become an everyday occurrence for me. And I think - of how I'd thoughtlessly caused Norge to endure such pain on occasions too numerous for me to remember and I am stricken with remorse. Through my pain I hear Master Etienne laughing. "Wow, Dad! That must have hurt to make Rafe cry out like that. Can I have a go please?" "Certainly, Etienne but practise on Pollux. Remember to keep you wrist flexible and take careful aim for his balls. And they shouldn't be hard to miss," he jokes with his son, "the way they are hanging down. It must be the heat; the balls on all three slaves are low slung. Now take careful aim!" I don't know how many attempts it takes for Master Etienne to score a hit on Pollux. For a start, I hear the whip strike his body several times but his low guttural grunts indicate there's not much pain in them. But then I hear his frenzied shriek and I know that Pollux now shares Norge's and my pain. They say practise makes perfect and this is certainly the case with Master Etienne. Very quickly he is mastering the knack of taking aim and accurately placing his whip on its intended targets; all three of us now endure the indescribable pain engendered by having our balls whipped. It would seem our young master is a natural pony driver. Without knowing for sure, I suspect the same thought motivates all three of us - that is to outrun the whip and arrive at our destination as quickly as possible thus putting an end to our torment. Those final few hundred yards are covered in quick time and we enter through the elaborate wrought iron gates that mark the entrance into the ten acres of landscaped gardens surrounding the house. These gardens were designed and set out by my grandmother many years ago as part of her restoration of La Fort. They stand as a testimony to her unerring good taste and boundless energy. They are truly magnificent and today they are regarded - quite rightly - as the finest gardens held in private hands. Certainly the Barrois family had often been asked by different charities to stage an "open day" when the gardens would be opened to the paying public. My grandparents had always refused such requests on the basis that the gardens were our private world and he had once remarked he didn't relish the thought of every "Tom, Dick and Harry" wandering around his home "gawking" at what was really none of their concern. Such requests were always politely but firmly refused with my grandparents preferring instead to make a sizeable donation to the particular charity as way of compensation. As we travel the last hundred or so yards through the gardens to the front portico, I see the small army of slaves who labour continuously from first light to sunset to maintain the gardens in the pristine condition that remains faithful to my grandmother's original design. I see them bent to their labours and I hear the crack of the black overseers' whips. I'd always appreciated the beauty and tranquillity of my grandmother's gardens but I'd never thought of the sweat and backbreaking toil that had gone into making them so enjoyable for me. That is - until today. Now, as I watch a whip fall on some wretched slave's back, I see the gardens' real ugliness. Behind their beauty lies so much suffering. Today, on our trip out from the city to La Fort, I have seen the true drudgery of slavery and witnessed its appalling brutality. As a whip crackles through the air to land resoundingly across another slave's unprotected shoulders, I shudder with the realisation that I am now a hapless victim of this merciless system. I, the slave Rafe, have finally arrived at my destination to begin my induction into slavery. As I knew would be the case, Colton, the long serving, black major domo is waiting at the foot of the steps of the front portico to welcome my Master and his son to La Fort. And waiting with him to take charge of Norge, Pollux and me is Claymore Jackson together with a senior overseer and an apprentice overseer. At first I don't notice the apprentice overseer. Then, as our Master pulls Norge to a halt, I do recognise him as the young apprentice overseer Claymore Jackson and I had interviewed several weeks ago. I struggle to remember his name but then eventually I do recall it is Conn. Despite his age, he is now in every way my "better". He is a black overseer whereas I'm just a white slave. I am now obliged to show him all due deference and respect; it is both expected and demanded of me. From now on, whenever I'm in his presence, I must lower my gaze to the ground and address him as "Sir Conn". To be continued...................

"CHANGED CIRCUMSTANCES" A Sequel to `A Reversal of Fortune' Chapter 34: "Taken to the Water-wheel!" This is a story of erotic fiction meant for adult readers over the age of eighteen years Written by Jean-Christophe (Chris) Read my stories at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Jean-Christophe_Stories "The characters and ideas contained in this story are purely fictitious and belong to the writer'imagination. Please respect the integrity of the story and don't do any rewrites, make alterations or add pictures." Chapter 34: "Taken to the Water-wheel!" "Well Claymore! Give me your honest assessment of the slave." "Guy! I doubt you'd find a slave more suited for your needs than this one. He'll do you proud serving as your pony. You couldn't wish for better." My Master's pride in me is clearly evident. As his hands slide over my nakedness, I sense his pride of ownership in me. And Claymore Jackson's words serve to re-enforce his satisfaction with me. For my part, I am pleased with Claymore's praise. It gives me hope. Today's inspection is a special one for me and much hangs on it. It could be life-changing for me. Should my Master be pleased with me, and judge me as ready, he might take me with him when he returns to the city and place me in service as a pony to run alongside Norge. I long for this with all my heart and with every fibre of my being. As Master continues to gauge the strength of my body, my heart pounds within my heaving chest and I am consumed by a sense of expectancy. I want to be judged as ready! And I do my best to assist my Master make his decision. I respond by once more drawing myself to my full height, flexing my muscles and posing my body so that my Master can better appreciate his property. I thrust out my chest and tighten my belly and I am very aware that my rampantly erect cock is poking upwards at an angle of forty-five degrees from the horizontal and that my balls hang low in the afternoon heat. My efforts to assist him don't go unnoticed by my Master. He smiles at me - and this is the first time he has ever done so - and tells me that I am a "Good boy!" His praise warms me and I shyly return his smile. His smile is so unexpected and I am left to wonder about it. To date our relationship has been a fraught one; he'd never shown me any kindness - quite the contrary - and I had come to dread those occasions when I was in his presence. Often, these would result in me being caned for some perceived misdemeanour. At first, I'd been deeply resentful of this treatment - even though I had reminded myself that, as a master, I too had been guilty of similar behaviour. I had no other alternative but to suffer my Master's early punishments of me but inevitably my resentment disappeared and I now accept without question his lawful right to do with me as he will. A Master's favour means everything to a true slave. Now, I bask in my Master's praise of me and this more than anything else shows how far I have progressed into my slavery. Perhaps this is to be the turning point in our master and slave relationship. As I consider this, it occurs to me that I now think like the slave that I have become. Master takes my cock in one hand and my balls in his other. He gently squeezes my balls as he strokes my eager cock into even greater hardness. He is gratified with my response and tells me that I am putting on a great show and he is proud of me. Then turning to Claymore and Sir Conn he comments. "Rafe presents well doesn't he? His cock is at least the equal of Norge's and the two of them running side by side should show well.... as you have already noted, Claymore." "Indeed he does, Guy! And the amazing thing is the stamina and endurance of his prick. He's able to keep it up for inordinately long periods. He has that in common with your other pony, Norge. I remember, when I drove Norge during his initial training, I was impressed with his ability to show well. Rafe is at least his equal and I think both ponies will do you proud and warrant many an admiring glance." "So tell me Claymore, do you consider Rafe is ready for harness work. Should I be looking to take him back to the city with me?" "Guy, the slave is more than ready. One has only to look at his body to see that. Look at the steady rise and fall of the chest. That speaks of his great lung capacity which adds to his ability to sustain long distance running. I always said that the slave's physiology makes him ideal for pony work". "I don't quite follow, Claymore. What do you mean about his physiology?" "Well Guy, I believe a slave's human physiology makes for the perfect pony. Put simply, slaves were designed for running. Think about it for a moment. The slave is designed to walk or run in an upright position and his eyes are focused to enable him to do this. And his cardio-vascular system and his long legs are designed to carry him over great distances. His legs and feet have a unique system of flexible springs that generate and store a lot of energy and his lungs supply oxygen to fuel that energy. He has an inbuilt cooling system in that he sweats profusely and this stops him from overheating. And even his ass has a role to play; the gluteus maximus muscles keep him in balance as he runs. Rafe has all these attributes and he'll make a great pony to team with Norge." "I'd never thought of it in those terms, Claymore. But it does make sense." "Guy, it makes perfect sense. Next time you drive your pony at full gallop, don't just admire his ass. Take time to study it and see how it all works. Look at the play of muscles in his back and note the working of his legs as he strides out and see how both ass cheeks keep it all in balance. Do that and you'll see a pony's true beauty? There is no more pleasing sight than to sit behind a pony and watch his body in action." Claymore's discourse obviously interests my Master. The overseer's reference to my ass strikes a responsive chord and Master instructs me to turn with my back to him. I stand quietly as, beginning at my shoulders, his hands move slowly down my back to my ass. He grasps a buttock firmly in each hand and kneads them much as a baker does when preparing dough for his bread. Then, without warning, he slips a finger into the dividing cleft of my buttocks and seeks out my anus. Deliberately, he uses his finger to excite me and I find myself readily responding to his stimulus. At the outset of my slavery, I would have been appalled by this but in the intervening six months I have adjusted my mind to many things. I no longer have a free man's pride; it has been taken from me and replaced with a slave's submission. The emotions of shame, humiliation and degradation that had once been so much in play have now dissipated and I accept my Master's right to do with me as he pleases. I feel no shame in what Master is doing to me. In fact there is a degree of pleasure in his sensual touch and I respond by wriggling my ass backwards and using my internal muscles to draw his finger deeper into me. Ah, it feels so good! I have lived a very chaste life for the past six months. Since my arrival at La Fort, and with one exception, all sexual activity has been denied me and any self-gratification has been strictly forbidden. It has to be said my needs are great and my frustration levels are high. And they have been added to by the nocturnal activities of my promiscuous brother slaves. From the safety of my security cage, I had watched and listened to the nocturnal frolics of my more fortunate stable mates. At first, I'd been horrified by the brutal treatment of the submissive slaves at the hands of their dominant fellow slaves. I had watched the cruel rape of Pollux and that had coloured my perceptions. But the longer I observed their behaviour; I began to recognise many of the passive slaves weren't really victims of these nightly predations. Rather, they showed a willingness to co-operate with their more aggressive stable mates and as the nights passed, I noticed their eagerness to be fucked. And once he'd recovered from the trauma of his own rape, Pollux also became an enthusiastic participant. Because Pollux was the newest slave in the stables - I, of course, was strictly off limits - he was enthusiastically courted by the stronger slaves. Those first few nights must have been hard for Pollux. Certainly, the nights that followed his raping lacked the brutality of his first night but he remained the centre of attention. He was the cause of much dissension as his abusers argued and fought over him. But by a process of elimination, the strongest and ablest slave eventually won out over his rivals and now Pollux is used exclusively by him. This works in Pollux's favour; he enjoys the protection of his `dominant'. He is now spared the attentions of all the other slaves and I can tell that Pollux is happier. No longer is he fearful of the predatory slaves who had so cruelly abused him. Now, each night, he lies alongside his protector and sleeps peacefully in his arms. And Pollux shows his gratitude to his protector in the only way he can. Each night, he opens up his body as a token of his appreciation. And each morning, in the pre-dawn gloom, he kneels between his protector's widespread legs and uses his mouth as a further expression of that appreciation. He does this willingly and eagerly and during my time in the stables, I became very envious of Pollux. As I looked at Pollux and his benefactor, I was reminded of Norge's reminiscences of his and Jake's lovemaking in these same stables. I envied them their lovemaking as much as I now envied Pollux. This increased my feelings of isolation; I missed the tight embrace of Norge' arms around my body and the feel of his hard cock pressing against my own. I hungered for the sensation of his hands caressing my ass and for the feel of his finger thrust deep inside of me as he massaged my prostate. My nights in the stables were long, lonely ones and the feverish sounds of my fellow slaves indulging in their animalistic sex frustrated me. All that was three months ago before I was moved to the stables that housed the ponies and the teams of heavy duty draft slaves. If I'd hoped for an improvement in my situation then I was doomed to disappointment. My Master's decree that I was to remain inviolate was rigidly enforced by the head groom. My days were spent in rigorous training and my nights in unfulfilled isolation. Unlike the other ponies and drafts, I had a stall exclusively my own. They were luckier and each shared his stall with one other. This was a humane policy of Claymore Jackson's who recognised the benefits in giving a pony the companionship and comfort of another pony. As Lucien Barrois, I was unaware that this policy operated and I doubt that I would have given it a second thought. But as the slave, Rafe I see it differently and desperately, I want to participate in Claymore's enlightened concession to the sexual needs of the slaves under his supervision. But my Master has denied me any sexual relief. Quite obviously, he has other plans for me. And to add to my frustration, Norge and Jake have spent the past two nights together in a stall next to mine. There, I had lain awake and listened to the sounds of their enthusiastic rutting. Resentment had consumed me and I felt jealousy towards Jake. How fortunate he was to have this time with my Norge! My Master arrived back at La Fort two days ago and if he follows his normal routine, he'll return to the city tomorrow. Dare I hope that he'll take me with him? Will this be my last day and night at La Fort, a place that once I had loved with such passion but which I now hate with such intensity? My time here hasn't been happy and as Master's finger continues to work my ass, I think back to my first morning at La Fort. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> That first morning I'd been awakened by my personal handler, Sir Conn. He'd used his cane to goad me out cage and he had established his authority over me by giving me a token taste of his whip. I can't describe the misery I felt that first morning. Overnight, I had watched as Pollux was raped repeatedly and the brutality of my fellow slaves frightened me. Given the opportunity, I worried about how they would treat me, their former master, should I find myself alone with them without the protection of an overseer. My new brand - received the previous afternoon - throbbed with an intensity of pain that can't be described by mere words and the heavy iron collar around my neck weighed me down emotionally. The realisation that my true slavery was to begin in earnest today added to the sense of hopelessness that I felt. Sir Conn separated me from the other slaves as they were driven to the "pits" to attend to the calls of nature before they were fed and watered and driven out to their day's labours. I was thankful for this isolation but shamed by Sir Conn's order. "OK, dumbass! Squat! Piss and shit! And be quick about it!" The imperious tone of his command left no doubt in my mind that he was in charge of me and having just felt his whip on my back, I fastened to obey. I did manage to empty my bladder but the complete lack of privacy, froze my bowels to the extent that I couldn't defecate. Even Sir Conn's growing impatience with my inability to oblige and the sharp crack of his whip above my crouching body proved to be non-laxative. Ordered to my feet, Sir Conn issued me with my morning food and water rations which were to be hastily consumed before he took me to toil on a water-wheel that supplied the spacious gardens and its numerous fountains with a never ending supply of water. As we entered into the gardens I was overwhelmed with emotion and tears clouded my vision. They had been an integral part of my life and I had loved them with a passion. I had played here as the boy Lucien, and as Lucien, the man I had strolled their network of leafy tunnelled paths. They had uplifted my spirits with their serenity and in times of trouble their peaceful calm had soothed me. These gardens are a living testimony to my grandmother and Lucien Barrois had continued with her legacy. They were Lucien's pride and joy and he had wasted neither money nor labour in maintaining them. He'd employed a small army of slaves who toiled in them from dawn to dusk and as I, Rafe approached, I saw those same slaves bent to their labours under the whips of the black overseers that he'd placed over them. It had always seemed to me that the gardens are a world unto themselves; a place of great beauty and peace. From within, it isn't possible to see beyond the thick bank of trees and shrubs that surround their perimeter. These trees screen out the slave stables and their ancillary buildings and, apart from the garden slaves, the sordid nature of slavery never intrudes itself into its leafy tranquillity. And by the clever designs of my distant de Barrois ancestor, the gardens give the fortunate occupants of La Fort's stately mansion immunity from the ugliness of the slavery that surrounds them. It was very early and the sun was barely above the eastern horizon. Undoubtedly, the new owner of La Fort and his son were still asleep within the soft luxury of their beds while outside their slaves toiled on their behalf. The air was cool but already it hinted at the day's coming heat and so the slaves weren't sweating as yet. The lawns, moist from their overnight watering, were damp underfoot and the air was scented with the heady perfume of numerous flowers and plants. And moving majestically through the gardens was the muster of peacocks that had delighted my grandmother with their blue-green iridescence and exotic displays of tail feathers. The early morning stillness was broken by the noisy chattering, squabbling and melodious trilling of birds stirring in the tree tops; by the stentorian breathing of the toiling slaves and the ever demanding exhortations of their overseers or the occasional crack of a whip urging them to greater effort. As Sir Conn led me to my work station, which is situated on the far side of the gardens and is discreetly hidden out of sight from the mansion, I was aware of the slaves glancing furtively at me. Obviously, they recognised me; no doubt they'd been made aware of my arrival yesterday by that unique and secretive system of communication that operates within all large bodies of slaves who are denied all knowledge of the outside world and don't have access to the daily happens of their masters. However these slaves knew me and their eyes showed their emotions. Some were hostile and full of hate for their former Master; others showed their delight at my downfall and openly smirked as I was led naked, collared and branded - as they were - to begin my daily labours. Foolishly, one young slave straightened up and gazed brazenly at me; his eyes mirrored his pent-up resentment of his fate. Instantly, an overseer's whip wrapped itself sinuously around the slave's naked torso and his shrill cry of pain sounded throughout gardens echoing back from the tree tops and stilling the birdsong. Of course, I know the gardens intimately; and I was well aware of the massive water wheel that takes water from a deep channel that delivers water from the far distant river into the reservoir adjacent to the gardens. The reservoir supplies water to the reticulated watering system and the ornamental fountains that were a feature of my grandmother's lavish - and expensive - refurbishing of the gardens just after her marriage to my grandfather. The gardens are watered overnight and each day the water used must be replaced by lifting water from the channel into the reservoir ensuring there is always an unfailing supply of the life-giving liquid available to the thirsty gardens. The water-wheel does the lifting and I am now to labour on it and supply the energy that keeps it operating. Like my grandfather before me, I had always seen the water- wheel as a necessary component in the gardens design and I had insisted that the wheel be maintained in peak working order. It could be said that grandfather and I had shown more concern for the wheel itself and scant regard to the unfortunate slaves who powered it. As a boy - and later as a pubescent youth - I used to delight in strolling over to this side of the gardens and to sit under a shady tree watching as some wretched slave laboured on the wheel. It had never occurred to me that the wheel was an instrument of torture. Instead, I saw it as a thing of beauty and a melding of ancient technology with brute, physical energy. There was something almost primeval in watching as the slave kept the wheel turning by the sheer weight of his body. How I loved the play of raw, muscular strength straining under a glistening coating of sweat and it was here that I discovered the sight and smell of a slave's labour induced sweat acted as a powerful aphrodisiac. It never failed to stimulate me and my cock was always erect with iron bar rigidity. It was always thrilling to watch a slave's re- action when, chained to the wheel and walking in a never ending circle, the whip was applied to his back or ass. Naturally, this would cause him to increase the speed of his steps. Vainly, he would thrust his body forward in an involuntary attempt to outrun the whip. His efforts to do so always caused me to chuckle. This vision of slaves working on the water-wheel always raised me to erotic levels and invariably I would adjourn to the seclusion of the nearby shrubbery and indulge myself in prolonged, masturbatory pleasure. That first day, as Sir Conn led me to the wheel, those memories came flooding back. However, I had no desire to masturbate; the thought of the wheel, its heavy bulk and the knowledge of what will be demanded of me proved deflationary. But, before he started me on the wheel, Sir Conn had an unexpected chore for me to perform. He led me into the same shrubbery where once I had masturbated to the creaking of the wheel, the laboured breathing of the slave who provided its motive power and the sound of a whip falling on his exposed, naked body. There, he told me to stop and safe from the prying eyes of the other slaves and their supervisors, he undressed. I watched in bemusement as Sir Conn tugged his shirt up over his head and hung it on a nearby branch. Stripped to the waist, he deliberately flexed his burgeoning muscles and posed his impressive body in the manner that teenagers do to impress their friends. Although I am no longer a teenager, I was nonetheless impressed by his display. Barely eighteen, he has the physique of an Adonis and a Black Adonis at that. Broad of shoulder and barrel chested, I couldn't take my eyes away from him and gazed with slack-mouthed wonder at his youthful beauty. He looked at me and asked. "What you looking at, dumbass? Do you like what you see?" What should I do? Should I answer him? And if so - what do I say? This young overseer was my superior and I must treat him with the respect due to all free persons irrespective of age or sex. How could I - a lowly slave - presume to tell him that I liked what I saw? Impatiently, he moved forward and slapped my face. "I asked you a question, white boy. Answer me when I ask you something. I'll ask you again. Do you like what you see?" The left side of my face stung from his slap and not wishing for a repeat I answered his question. "Yes Sir! I very much like what I see." "You wanna see more dumbass?" "Yes Sir!" My answer was loud and concise as it should be when answering a superior, free man. In reality, I did want to see more of this youth who was to be my constant companion and de facto master for the duration of my stay at La Fort. Sir Conn kept his eyes fixedly on my face as he slowly slide his denim shorts down over his hips and let them fall around his ankles before stepping out of them. He paused and stood semi naked before me. In my confusion, I was aware that he wore tight, bikini briefs whose glaring whiteness contrasted with the rich mahogany colour of his flawless skin. The briefs hid very little and suggested much. My eyes roamed down to the prominent bulge in his groin and I could clearly see the outline of his cock and balls bunched up in the tight confines of his undergarment. Suddenly, I became apprehensive. Why was Sir Conn doing this? Did he intend to fuck me? But my Master had said that wasn't to happen and that my ass was out-of-bounds. Surely the apprentice overseer was aware of his employer's restriction. He wouldn't dare - would he? We were alone in an isolated spot and the likelihood of us being interrupted was remote. Visions of last night's raping of Pollux raced through my mind and fearfully I wondered if this was to be my fate. As a slave, I was helpless to protest against Sir Conn unauthorised use me. I was defenceless against him and would have to submit. I watched the steady rise and fall of his accelerated breathing and the nervous fluttering of his well-defined abdominal muscles. Obviously my own nakedness was arousing Sir Conn. I could see the steady swelling of his cock struggling against restricting fabric of his briefs and I watched as his cock head broke free of its confinement and peeped out over the top of his waistband. Then in one quick and deft movement, he removed this last remaining garment and Sir Conn stood before me in all his youthful nakedness. Released from its prison, his cock pointed rigidly in my direction and his balls hung free. I had never seen a naked black man before that day but I had heard that they are prodigiously well-endowed and Sir Conn was living proof of this. His cock could best be described as massively thick and long. I'd always prided myself that I had been fortuitously blessed and I was proud of my own endowment. And over the years I had taken my pleasure with many slaves - all white -who, without exception, were well hung. It had been a pre-requisite of the former Lucien Barrois that his slaves possessed large cocks and heavy balls. But that day, Sir Conn outshone us all! I stood entranced by Sir Conn's physical beauty and the size of his genitals overwhelmed me. In the past, as Lucien, I'd paid very little attention to La Fort's black overseers. All my contacts with them were through the head overseer, Claymore Jackson and so my interaction with them was minimal. I knew they harboured ideas of their superiority over the white race but this had never overly concerned me. They were welcome to think that as long as it didn't affect their effectiveness in managing my slaves. The idea that they considered themselves superior to me, Lucien Barrois was ludicrous and I would never have tolerated any open expressions that suggested they were. The idea that a black man was Lucien's superior was laughable. After all weren't they the descendants of the black people brought here to work as slaves for the white man? And now, as the descendants of those emancipated black slaves, they still work for the white man and yet they presume that they are superior to their employers. Ridiculous! Yet, that morning, I looked at Sir Conn's nakedness through Rafe, the slave's eyes. Sir Conn's commanding physical presence overwhelmed my inferior, white slave status and I saw the black man in a new light. In one area, at least, this young, black overseer was my superior. Sir Conn moved towards me and I took a step back to keep the distance between us. "Stand still, boy! Display!" Instinctively, I obeyed him. I placed my hands behind my head and moved my feet apart and stood ready for his inspection. I had been a slave long enough to understand the instruction to `display' was a precursor to an examination. "That's better, dumbass! You do as I tell you and we'll get along just fine. Now as we are going to be working together, I think we should get to know one another better. What you think, boy? Would you like that?" Really I have no other option but to answer. "Yes sir! I would like that very much sir!" "Good then, let's get started." I stood placidly as Sir Conn slid his hands down over my body gauging its hardness and assessing its strength. I shivered and he played with my nipples and I gave a loud yelp as he cruelly twisted them and deliberately pulled them away from my body. I felt shame as he stroked my unresponsive cock and hefted my balls and I was embarrassed by his comment. "Hmm! They're not bad for a white boy! I've seen worse." I responded to his order to turn around and present my back to him. I trembled as he cradled an ass-cheek in each hand and squeezed them in a test of their firmness. However, I baulked when he told me to drop to the ground on my hands and knees. With my back to him, I couldn't see his anger but I heard the `swish' of his whip just seconds before I felt the pain of it across my back. "I gave you an order, boy. Do it!" Now chastened, I obeyed and dropped to the ground. Suddenly, and despite my customary nakedness, I felt very exposed. I was acutely aware that my balls hung suspended between my widely spaced thighs and that my sphincter was obscenely exposed to his view. I could feel its contractions with each nervous beat of my heart. What is he going to do to me? I prepared myself for the worst and waited fearfully for him to enter me. I was sure that Sir Conn was about to rape me. Then, I felt his finger tracing a path from my balls along the perineum to my ass-hole. There it paused and slowly teased me. Tantalisingly, he excited the sensitive tissue around my opening raising my cock to a level of expectation I could no longer fight. Helplessly, I responded to his ministrations and nervously I waited for his next move. But that was as far as he took me. With a dismissive slap to my ass, Sir Conn ordered to kneel before him. Hastily, I scrambled onto my knees and faced him. My relief must have been all too obvious. Sir Conn laughed at me. "What's the matter, boy? You thought I was going to fuck you? Rest easy! You got a cute white ass, boy, but it belongs to your Master. He'll be the first to use it." Sir Conn stood just inches from me and his cock, now semi-flaccid, rested in line with my face. I recall that I was fascinated by its shiny black meatiness and I took time to study it. And I was impressed. But Sir Conn had plans for it. He ordered me to. "Open your mouth boy! Open I said! WIDE!" His intent was obvious. I was to service his cock with my mouth. Its enormous girth and length were daunting; surely, my mouth and throat were too small for such an undertaking. Impatiently, Sir Conn looped his whip around my neck and jerked my head into his groin. "I said ... open up! Take my cock in your mouth." I was a recent `convert' to oral sex. In my previous life, I had been a recipient of its undoubted pleasures but I was never a giver. But that changed when I became a slave. I was first introduced to it when my Master ordered me to use my mouth to service the cocks of three of my former school friends and my former lawyer, Simon Barrow. This had happened at a cocktail party at my Master's townhouse held to introduce him and his grandmother to their new neighbours. I had been repulsed by this and yet as a slave I had no recourse other than obedience to my Master's order. I recalled that night with shame and revulsion. Yet it could have been infinitely worse for me. My mouth had been offered as a prize in a guessing contest at the slave-dealer, Lionel Schuster's establishment the day my Master sold Cato and had me valued. By subterfuge, the slaver had won the contest and I recall my feelings of utter helplessness and horror at the prospect of taking the elderly and decrepit slaver's filthy cock into my pristine mouth. Fortunately, and to the slave-dealer's chagrin, my Master denied him his `prize'. Despite, the degradation and shame I felt, the taking of those four cocks into my mouth in quick succession `broke the ice' for me. After that I never hesitated to express my growing love for Norge through the use of oral sex. It was mutually pleasurable and Norge allowed me to hone my skills on him. Norge proved to be a good instructor; whenever he felt I lacked `something' he would tell me how to improve my techniques. Under Norge's tutelage, I became very good at sucking cock. As I looked hesitantly at Sir Conn, it wasn't my ability to satisfy him that worried me. Rather it was my ability to take his massive, thickly veined organ into my mouth and throat. But Sir Conn wasn't to be denied. He cuffed my head and ordered me to take his cock into my mouth. I battled during those first few moments; the bulbous cockhead filled my mouth and my throat muscles closed up in an attempt to stop any further intrusion. Impatiently, Sir Conn grabbed hold of my ears and slammed into me. He ignored my gagging and my spluttering and through my struggling panic I heard him tell me to relax and breath through my nose. Mercifully, he paused with his thrusting long enough to allow me to settle into a pattern of deep rhythmic, nasal breathing. With each breathe, my panic subsided and the muscles of my throat relaxed enough to allow me to swallow his cock into its depths. Dutifully, I applied myself to giving Sir Conn the pleasure he demanded of me. I drew on my experiences with Norge and worked hard to please my young overseer. And I had to admit to myself that it felt good. Very Good! I knew it was pleasurable for me and I hoped it was proving so for him. And it was soon obvious that I was pleasing him. I felt the tightening of Sir Conn's body, the arching of his back and the clenching of his ass as he continued to thrust into me. I listened to his soft moans of pleasure and noted his rising passion. My bobbing head kept time with the to and fro thrusts of his hips and we were lost to all around us. Temporarily, I forgot that I was a slave and he was my handler. Then, I began to feel the first small bursts of his impending ejaculation and to taste the sweetness of his essence. With our rising ardour, we quickened our pace. Simultaneously, my mouth siphoned and my throat muscles massaged his cock; stimulating and coaxing it into a final, climactic eruption. Once more, I felt the arching of his back and the tight clenching of his buttocks; my ears rang from his loud, exultant cry as the floodgates of his passion opened to overwhelm me. Wave after wave filled my mouth to overflowing and in my eagerness to please him I swallowed hard. I owed it to him not to allow one drop of his precious semen to spill on the ground. I waited patiently as his cock wilted in my mouth and for our laboured breathing to subside. I looked up into his face and I was rewarded with a pat on the head. I saw the beads of sweat trickling down his chest and over his belly and I found the heady scent of his perspiration intoxicating. As we waited, I was swamped with a strange emotion. Here I was kneeling at the feet of this young, black Adonis as a naked, white slave. My Master had given him jurisdiction over me and it felt right for me to be at his feet. It was an epiphany for me; another step of the journey into my life of servitude. Spontaneously, I leant forward and kissed his feet and by doing so I acknowledged I was a slave and I submitted myself to his oversight and discipline of me. Then, I expressed my heartfelt gratitude to him. "Thank you Sir!" The words were simple but spoken with true meaning. "Why are you thanking me boy?" "For honouring me, Sir. By using me for your pleasure, Sir! "Well, I've gotta say it to you, dumbass! You're one helluva great cocksucker for a white boy. But it's time to get you to work. It's time to get that water-wheel turning. GETUP ON YOUR FEET BOY. NOW!" >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> What happened that morning soon became routine for us. Each morning, as Sir Conn delivered me to my place of work, he'd pause in some secluded spot and order me to my knees and eagerly I would take his cock into the warm, moist embrace of my mouth. These events became important to me. They were rare moments of pleasure in the dull dreariness of my existence. Each night, as I rested in the safety of my security cage, I fell asleep with the thought of what awaited me in the morning. They helped to ease my frustration and to settle me and even though I hated the drudgery of my life as a slave, these brief moments of intimacy gave me something to look forward to. As time passed, Sir Conn would sometimes relax and display something akin to kindness towards me. Disparagingly, he still called me `dumbass" but he'd often initiate a conversation in which he questioned me about my former life. This seemed to be of interest to him. And I always answered truthfully and held nothing back. At other times, as I knelt at his feet, he would stroke by body with something akin to affection. True, it was the same type of affection that a free man feels towards a faithful, dumb animal but it was the only kindness shown to me by an overseer at la Fort. It was akin to a crust of bread thrown from a master's table to his loyal dog. It was a crumb thrown at my feet and one which I scrambled for with gratitude to Sir Conn. But these moments were all too brief. Once finished, Sir Conn would order me to my feet and put me to work. There, we became overseer and slave and should I displease him I would feel the cut of his whip on my back. >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Suddenly, my Master's voice cuts through my reverie and I am drawn back to the here and now. My Master continues to excite me and he is amused by my shuddering response to his stimulation. He strokes my cock with one hand and uses a finger of the other to test my virginity "Steady on there, Rafe! You're becoming a bit too excited for your own good." I hear Claymore and Sir Conn laughing in the background. "From the feel of him, the slave is very tight" My Master comments. "Obviously, my orders were followed? He has never been fucked?" "Guy, Rafe has never been violated. Your orders were followed to the letter of the law. He's as chaste as the driven snow. Isn't that right, Conn?" "That's right, Sir! Sir Conn's answer is concise and leaves much unsaid. Master leans closer to me and whispers in my ear. "Well boy! That's a situation we'll have to correct, isn't it? I'll attend to that just as soon as I get you back to the city." To be continued..........