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From: "Bey Shaun" <masterbeyshaun@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} That Spring by Master Bey Shaun 4/6 (mm, mf, mff, size, mast, oral, exhib)
Date: Fri,  7 Sep 2001 06:10:02 -0400
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"That Spring" by Master Bey Shaun-A Psychological Study- 4/6
(mm, mf, mff, size, mast, oral, exhib)

Caution: the following story is fiction, describing sexual encounters 
between adolescents, some of which are between participants of the same sex. 
If reading such stories is illegal for you due to your age or location, or 
is distasteful to you, go no further; do not read or download this story, or 
delete it immediately if you already have. Otherwise, enjoy.





4.


I arrived home later that evening, drained but wired from the evening's 
activities. After we had recovered, Claire had gotten some towels, and we 
had all worked at cleaning up the substantial wet spots on their carpet. 
They had talked while we blotted, Jeff saying how hot it was to see his 
sister coming, how she rarely let him see her "in action", which provoked 
some sibling bickering, he telling her that it wasn't fair, all the hundreds 
of times she had seen him and his friends coming; with her retorts that it 
was his hobby, she could do as she liked, and wasn't "one of his jack-off 
boys". They did both agree about how much they had enjoyed seeing me come, 
all my juice spurting out around her cunt-lips as we did each other.

But then, back at home, the events of the evening replayed themselves over 
and over again in my mind- and I was again swallowed in the by-now familiar 
confusion; why did all this intimate sex seem so clear and right when it was 
happening, but seem so perverse and nasty to me, afterwards? The worst part 
of it was my feeling of surrender, of helplessness, powerlessness to do 
anything but passively go along with whatever my seducers wanted me to do: 
it wasn't even that I didn't want to do those things with them, but that I 
was so powerless to resist their directions once my dick started swelling.

The image of myself, lying back with my erection fully exposed and sticking 
straight up, swollen and shiny, with Jeff staring at it mesmerized as he 
deliberately and carefully worked on it; an image that I had watched for 
many hours over the past week, was horrifying to me then as I pictured it.  
Me, gladly allowing a male to touch my hard-on, and jack it off, repeatedly, 
and the amount of time I was allowing to be spent just masturbating! It felt 
so wrong! To add to the indignity, he would play games with my genitals, 
seeing how much juice he could get out of me as he had that second session, 
or counting how many times my penis would throb when I came, trying to best 
my previous record. It was incredibly humiliating! Even so, as these images 
arose in my memory, I felt my dick swell, and a familiar warmth spreading in 
my groin. I couldn't understand myself. It was as if there were two 
different people inside of me, like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde; there was the 
normal, familiar, "safe" person I had always thought myself to be, and this 
other, perverse sensualist, who would allow anything to be done to himself 
for pleasure. My horror was the realization that he was actually me, and 
that I seemed powerless to do anything about it.

I didn't see either of my neighbors that next day. I felt relieved at this, 
but also a pressure in my balls, that had become used to the schedule of 
daily, and very thorough, workouts. The following day, however, Jeff came 
over to my house earlier than he ever had before, and I followed him down 
into the basement with surrender, tinged with eagerness. When we got into my 
room,  he announced in a thick voice as he pulled my pants down, his eyes on 
my penis, that he wanted to try to work up to two sessions a day, that a 
dick like mine deserved to be hard constantly; he said that as I got used to 
it, I would become able to have at least two good comes a day. My dick was 
rising toward the ceiling as I pictured what he was suggesting; I was now 
fully possessed by my primal urges, and knew I would go along with anything 
he wanted to do with me.

Over the next two weeks, on most days we spent several hours down in my 
basement room, as he worked on developing my stamina and getting my balls 
used to producing more come. I felt like I was an athlete in training, and 
he indeed treated my erection like a thoroughbred. We would have a session 
usually in the late morning or early afternoon, and another at night, 
sometimes over at his house. He was infinitely inventive; even with the 
hours of masturbation we were putting in, he rarely repeated himself, coming 
up with novel approaches again and again. One day, for example, as we 
started he told me that he noticed that I had a hard time talking while I 
was hard, and he had a game to help me get used to talking and jacking off 
at the same time. He said he would ask me questions while he was doing me, 
and I would have to answer reasonably quickly and clearly, or he would slow 
down, lighten up, or stop. He thought that would condition me, "like 
Pavlov's dogs", to be responsive verbally while I was having sex.

He squirted a big gob of hand lotion on the head of my dick, spread it all 
over the shaft thoroughly with two fingers and his thumb, and started 
sliding his hand up and down encircling my shaft, up over the thick ridge 
that formed the rim on the head of my cock, and then back down again, slowly 
but steadily. While he did this, he asked me very ordinary questions about 
my life, like how long I had lived here, what I thought of a particular 
movie, etc.. At first, I had to struggle to make my voice work, the 
sensation was so all-consuming; but then as I mumbled he would slow his 
movements almost to a stop, and lighten the pressure, until I answered 
clearly. It was amazing how effective this game was; by the end of the 
second session that day using this technique, I was having an almost 
completely normal conversation with him while he did me, until I came; then 
I couldn't speak. He noticed that; and while he watched the last few spurts 
of come from the orgasm he was producing in me run down my cock, he said 
we'd have to work on that.

He also started catching my come in a cup every few times he brought me to 
orgasm, to see how my volume was developing under his plan.

Several times his sister joined us for our sessions, but while she watched 
him do me enthusiastically, she didn't join in on those occasions: except 
once, when she directed Jeff, telling him how to slide the skin on my 
erection, masturbating me by remote control. I could now talk easily while I 
was being done, and we kept an almost constant conversation up, about how a 
particular technique was feeling, how close I was to coming, etc.. I found 
that the handjobs were improved greatly by this (which I wouldn't have 
thought was possible, they had already been so good), from my participation 
and feedback. I was spending so much time each day watching my erection in 
front of my face being jerked off, that in my dreams I often saw my swollen 
cock-head bobbing in front of me, regardless of what else was happening.

I had become a total slave to our masturbation sessions, and in between 
them, as I would be going about my other affairs, I could think of little 
else, looking forward to the next session impatiently. I'm sure this was 
Jeff's intention; he would have had me with my pants down, hard, in front of 
him all day if he could. Although he frequently came himself during our 
sessions, sometimes just from feeling the power of the orgasm he was causing 
in me, he seemed quite contented that my prodigious genitals be the 
recipient of our efforts. He seemed to get as much vicarious pleasure from 
making me come, as he got from coming himself.

After a few weeks of this regimen, while we had just started an evening 
session in Jeff's bedroom, Claire walked in on us.

Although I was used to her being there, it added an extra excitement to the 
sensations I felt to have her watching me getting done. I was lying back on 
the carpet, leaning up a bit on the side of the bed for a better view of his 
work. Jeff had my belt and fly open, but my pants weren't pulled down: he 
had pulled my balls out so that they were spread out on the surface of my 
pants below the fly, and my erection was, as usual, pointing at the ceiling. 
We had gotten me to the point where both of my daily orgasms were at least 
as strong as any he had ever brought me to, and the amount of come I was 
producing had increased steadily. On some sessions, particularly the 
morning's, if I came quickly, he would try to make me come again, working up 
to three times a day.

Jeff had already started to bring me towards tonight's orgasm by using two 
hands, on either side of my cock-head, gently stimulating it around both 
sides of its rim with his fingertips. It was having its effect, a drop of 
cream building on the crack at the tip. Claire came over to us, watching 
critically for a few minutes, and then said, "You know, I think that it's 
gotten even bigger than when I first saw it." We both said we agreed as he 
continued to do me, crediting the "tooth-paste tube squeeze" move that Jeff 
used on me for a few minutes at the beginning of each session, to swell me 
to maximum size before he would begin. She then announced that she had a 
real treat for me that night; she said she wanted to try to blow me.

I was stunned; except for that one night two weeks ago, she had not had any 
direct contact with me; and Jeff had explained to me that she had never had 
anything to do with his other friends, outside of the strict masturbation 
games they would play. He had said that he had been very surprised at her 
actions of that night, that they were unprecedented, and she must have been 
extremely turned on by my size.

Jeff slowly stopped the delicious rubbing he was giving my cock-head, looked 
up at her, and said, "ok, but you have to let me watch; and don't do too 
good a job, I don't want you to spoil him!". Then he stopped the tickling he 
was doing and put his hand around the shaft near the base, and pulled slowly 
upward once while squeezing it. This action squoze out a large drop of cream 
from the tip which swelled the drop that had been building there, sending it 
flowing down my shaft and over his hand, leaving a shiny trail; he then 
released my cock.

I had often wondered why Jeff himself, with his obvious fixation on dicks, 
especially mine, never took them into his mouth; when I asked him about 
this, in the midst of a session in my basement, he told me that he was a 
specialist, and preferred the freedom to watch the progress of his handiwork 
that handjobs gave him. He said, as he milked my pulsing shaft, that all of 
his friends seemed to enjoy his handiwork; I agreed!

Claire directed me to get up, take off my pants, and lie on the bed near the 
edge with my legs spread and feet on the floor, so she could kneel between 
my legs. As I arranged myself, she explained to us that she had found 
herself repeatedly fantasizing about my big dick in her mouth; and, since I 
was so available, she thought "why not?". She knelt between my legs, but we 
immediately noticed that even with her kneeling up as straight as possible, 
my dick-head was standing near her forehead; so she leaned forward, so that 
my balls were rubbing against her solar plexus and my shaft running up 
between her breasts, and gave it a kiss a few inches beneath the head.

Claire rose to her feet, deciding to try it standing up. She only had to 
lean forward slightly, and the head of my erection was an inch from her 
lips. She reached out a hand and grabbed the base of the shaft, bending it 
down slightly towards her lips, and continued to hold it to steady it. I was 
incredibly excited, having been well warmed up by her brother, and at the 
prospect of this new treat. She looked down at the head, dripping just below 
her chin, then opened her lips and bent down to take it into her mouth.

The tip of my head filled her mouth, and the rest stuck out in front of her 
face; she looked like she had an apple in her mouth, like a pig dressed for 
roasting. The sensation of her lips on my velvety head was incredible. She 
steadied my dick with her hand, and tried to push it farther into her mouth, 
but it wouldn't budge.

She slipped her lips off its tip, looked at it again, and closed her mouth, 
working up some saliva; then she licked her lips, opened her mouth wide to 
stretch her lips for a moment, and again bent down to my cock. She held her 
mouth as far open as she could while she moved it around my cock-head; this 
time, she got it in almost to the rim, but no further.

She pulled back again, looking at it thoughtfully, and absentmindedly 
started to rub the skin up and down on the lower shaft slowly where she held 
it, jerking me off. She continued the motion of her hand while she bent 
forward again and started licking the head like an ice cream cone, swirling 
her tongue around it and alternately sucking the tip into her mouth and then 
squeezing it back out with her lips, evidently giving up on the idea of 
actually fitting it into her mouth.

I was going wild; the sensation of her tongue on the sensitive, stretched 
head of my erection was like nothing I had ever felt before.

She steadied my shaft with the fingertips of her free hand just below the 
head, and continued her licking-sucking-nibbling on the tip, while jerking 
off the base slowly, my balls riding up and down with each movement of her 
hand. Jeff, watching the slow motion of my balls, reached a cradling hand to 
support them, weighing them with a slow bouncing of his own. He asked me how 
I was doing; I replied, with difficulty, that I didn't think I would last 
too much longer.

On hearing this, Claire pulled back from her nibbling with a long, sucking 
kiss, trailing a string of fluid from her lips to my cock-head; and surveyed 
the results of her work so far, while she licked her lips. My shaft was 
covered with a silvery film of her saliva mixed with my juice, and even as 
we watched, a fresh pulse of clear fluid appeared on the tip, and flowed 
slowly downward. She had kept her hands on my shaft, and had reduced her 
jerking-off movements, shifting towards pushing her fingertips into the 
thick column on the back of the shaft above Jeff's hand, and riding it 
slowly up and down, forcing out a fresh pulse of fluid with each upward 
movement.

While she continued this gentle masturbation, her mouth free again, she gave 
Jeff a smile and asked how I liked it, compared to her brother's skills; 
when I didn't answer right away she bent forward again. This time she sucked 
the tip into her mouth and squoze it back out again, drooling a slight 
stream of saliva onto my head when she squoze it out; she did this over and 
over, in a steady rhythm, evidently intending to make me come right away, to 
show off her skills to her brother.

I was out of control, my erection stiffened to its maximum and pulsing 
spasmodically, its head a swollen, bright red from the suction of her lips: 
after only a few minutes of this, her drool and my cream rolled down from 
the head in thick gobs onto her and her brother's hands and my cupped balls. 
I warned them that I was about to come, and she positioned her puckered lips 
right over the hole like she was giving it a kiss, and started to suck 
steadily. Jeff put his free hand on my shaft between where her two hands 
were, encircling the shaft to better feel me coming, moving the skin up and 
down in concert with Claire's jerking-off movements; three hands were 
jacking me off, with room left over along the shaft.

The first squirt of come partly escaped Claire's mouth, as its sudden force 
took her by surprise; but by the second, she had a sense of how strongly I 
was coming, and adjusted her suction to try to contain it all- but, after 
the sixth or seventh pulse her mouth must have been full; and, not having 
time to swallow, each further pulse sent come squirting out of her lips, 
falling down her chin or onto my dick and their hands. I was in an agony of 
pleasure; the especially large load of thick come, built up by our 
"development" program of twice-daily orgasms, surging through the channel in 
my erection and out the hole with unusually high force under the stimulation 
of Claire's blowjob; the intense, burning/tingling from her suction on my 
head, the four hands smoothly jerking off my dick and balls; it was absolute 
bliss. Jeff said hoarsely that that must have been the record in the amount 
of come he had ever seen me put out, wishing that he could have caught and 
measured it; Claire swallowed several times, licking her lips, her eyes 
glazed- and grinned. She looked at her brother, and he said that she won, 
THAT time; but he would beat her in time.

_________________________________________________________________
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