Author: Broken Compass 
Title: Grace Saved (3) 
Part: 3 
Summary: An
awkward teen continues his transformation at the hands of his
dominant little stepsister. 
Keywords: mm, fm, reluc, huml, fdom,
tg, oral, teen

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DISCLAIMER
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The author welcomes feedback of
all kinds. Please email: BrokenCompass6626@gmail.com   
I would LOVE to hear from you. Your responses keep me going

The author has been inspired by countless works over the years,
and it's reflected in this story. He does not intend to steal
intellectual property. If any part of his writing too closely
resembles another author's work, he apologizes sincerely. A ll of
this is personal me. If you've struck a chord, you may see your
echoes here. Take that, please, as the most sincere form of
thanks I can give.

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Grace Saved Chapter 3 - In Which Grace Begins his Outward
Transformation

In Chapter 1, Grace's stepsister Amber decided to blackmail him,
and he had a humiliating orgasm at the hands of her friends. In
Chapter 2, she broke her promise, but kept her leverage over him.
She made him suck off her boyfriend, Brian, and Grace was
confused by his own reaction to the experience. He has little
time to reflect, because Amber is just getting started. . .
-------------------------------------------------------------

  Tuesday morning, Grace woke to an awful gamy flavor in his
mouth. He was halfway to the bathroom before he remembered the
source. Brian might not have tasted too bad when he was
squirting, but cum left one hell of an after-taste.
  After his morning routine, supplemented by an extra-long
Listerine gargle, Grace entered the kitchen to an absolutely
frigid breakfast atmosphere. Amber echoed his "good morning", but
his mother just looked up from her newspaper with vaguely
dangerous eyes. Something was bad, but it went unaddressed. Grace
watched his mother like frightened dog all through his oatmeal -
risking eye contact at panicked intervals.  Valerie kept her eyes
glued to her paper-and-coffee.
  Grace was having trouble swallowing. His stomach felt much too
small, and his throat wasn't working right. It took two juice
refills to get the oatmeal down. He had never been more glad of
Amber's presence than at that meal. She did an awesome job of
filling the silence. Something about one of her teachers; nice
and inane. He relished the bubbling monologue - a balm against
the tension.
  "Ooop!" Amber finally concluded - a sound like a flummoxed
bird, he thought, fleetingly amused -  "Past seven thirty; time
to head out." Grace was happy to oblige. He rose in time with his
stepsister. It wasn't until he'd collected his jacket and
backpack from the foot of the stairs before his mom finally spoke
up in a tired voice.
  "Grace, you stay here. I'm driving you today." Amber didn't
pause or even look back as she passed out the front door. No
curiosity. She knew!
  She must have known.
  "What?" he asked to bide time, turning back to the kitchen, his
voice thick, as if coated in syrup.
  "I'm taking you to school today. We need to talk."
  Suddenly he remembered - yesterday on the phone, his mom had
told him they would talk that night, but he had been burrowed in
his covers and drowning in the Seventh's angry-sad Second
Movement by the time she'd come home.
  So . . .  OK . . .
  He at least knew what to expect now, right?
  It'd be embarrassing, of course. Of course, but predictable,
which took the psychological edge off of his immediate future:
Mom's born-again bombardment. And probably another punishment.
There was usually a follow-up when she was super mad like this.
But what punishment would his mom devise that didn't pale in
comparison to one of Amber's "cures"? For Christ's sake, Grace
had just sucked off her boyfriend! So what if his mom was going
to ground him some more?
  All the same, the injustice stung him powerfully. Amber was
responsible for all of this crap. All.
  He breathed in. Shouldn't he hate her? Why couldn't he? When he
tried to focus his rage, Grace got a feeling like the tail end of
a deep stretch after a long car ride: that weird sort of
weakness; lovely weakness. Why couldn't he hate her? What was
WRONG with him?
  Sighing, he decided to put a pin in that question. Grace set
down his backpack and trudged back to the kitchen. Donning his
best droopy-dog face, he started in, "Listen, Mom, about those
pictures --"
  Valerie stunned him into silence with an unearthly noise
somewhere between a screech and a bark. For  a long minute, they
stood together in the heavy silence her outburst left in its
wake.
  Then she said softly, "Go get in the car, Grace. I'll be out
shortly."
  He collected his backpack and trod back past the kitchen, out
through the laundry room to the garage. Sitting in the passenger
seat of the Taurus, in silence, Grace kept hearing that barking
noise she'd made.
  He was in deep shit.
  Valerie got in the car, opened the garage door, and backed out
of the driveway in silence. She finally spoke after making the
turn onto River Road.
  "She showed me the video, Grace."
  He breathed in.
  And he waited for her to go on, greeting this new broken
promise from his stepsister with an exhausted fatalism. What was
the point in trying to win his mom over from Amber's side? It
hadn't worked yesterday. This whole thing was completely beyond
his control; he knew that now. What was Grace going to say that
would convince his mother that her sweet beloved Amber was a
psychopath? In person, Valerie would just talk over him. What if
he wrote it? Laid out the whole story in a letter?
  Of course, if she believed THAT, she might have some unpleasant
follow-up questions. Such as why her seventeen year-old son would
let his stepsister put him through such hell over such minor
stakes: a made-up pornography tale. Or, why her teenager was so
terrified of displeasing his mom that he performed oral sex on
another boy to keep Amber from tattling on him for something he
never even did.
  No, best to hunker down and wait out the storm. Right now, he
couldn't bear to face those questions. He wasn't crazy. He could
see how far out-of-proportion his humiliation had been, compared
to the severity of the blackmail threat. Grace had traded in mild
humiliation for life-changing shame, and he couldn't explain why.

  His inner voice spoke, for the first time that day, to remind
him of that moment with Brian, and of Grace's fleeting sensation
of power. That feminine power of controlling his man's pleasure.
  Doesn't it make you feel naughty? it asked him gleefully. Those
are pleasures of power that men aren't meant to have. Men have so
many of their own, but the one you took is for women ONLY, Grace.
Violation. Do you know, hmm? Can you still be a man after such
Violation?
  He set the voice aside as best he could. No, hunker down. Wait.
None of this could last forever.
  He breathed out.
   Valerie continued, "I don't even KNOW you Grace. I don't know
my own son. Can you imagine how that feels?" He could, actually.
At the moment, Grace didn't know himself either.
  "Exposing yourself to those girls. It was SICK. So far from the
sweet boy I know. The boy I raised. What has changed, Grace? When
did this get such a grip on you -- this . . . perversion?"
  He stared at the floor mat, hoping it was a rhetorical
question. It was.
  "You know, If I'd had the choice, I would have stayed home with
you. I would have raised you like I should have. That's what I
WANTED. That's what I planned for, until your father . . ."
  They sat through a red light until: "The world got in the way,
Grace. I HAD to work. You HAD to go to daycare. It's not what I
wanted, but God knows this flawed world doesn't take our wants
into account."
  He couldn't stop the tears; just wipe at them with his sleeve.
  "You are my son, and I'll always love you, but your actions
have changed our relationship forever. The deceit, the DEVIANCE,
my God . . ."
  She trailed off again, and they spent ten minutes in a horrible
silence while his tears dried. He had no words. Finally, she
continued: "I DO think it's wonderful that you have a therapy
group. I'm encouraged that you're getting help. Make no mistake,
though, you'll be held accountable. You're not to miss a single
one of those meetings, got me?"
  He knew this wasn't a rhetorical question. His mind started
spinning up. Amber had obviously concocted something. But his
M.O. was to weather the storm, and if this would help . . .
  "Yes. Yes, Mom," he squeezed out.
  They finally looked at each other, for the first time since
breakfast. Tears welled up again when he saw the look on his
mother's face: injured, angry, sad, loving; all mixed together.
The love shone through it all, and it hurt him so badly.
  "I'm SORRY, Mom," Grace sobbed. She took him in her arms.
  "I know, sweetie. I know. We'll get you better. I promise."

  Each passing period, Grace went out of his way to swing by
Amber's locker. He finally caught her after lunch. But although
he had spent all morning steeling himself, his first words
nonetheless came out as a whimper.
  "You PROMISED me, Amber! I did everything you said. Why? Why
did you lie to me?"
  Once again, his stepsister furrowed her brow in a show of
abject sympathy. He wondered then if she was a sociopath.
  "Oh, I know, honey. I know," she crooned, "But we needed an
excuse to get you out of the house while you're grounded. This
just seemed like the easiest way."
  He felt so betrayed, but he still couldn't find the heat. He
just looked at her dumbly.
  Amber went on, "So your mom probably mentioned the therapy,
right?" He nodded. "Now THAT wasn't a lie, Gracie. You will in
fact be going to therapy for the next few weeks. It will be at
Kristen's house, though. She and Kelly are going to do some
exercises to get you ready. I'd do it myself but, you know, I
have a LIFE and all."
  He found himself nodding again. Stupid. Stupid.
  Amber gave him a smile. "It's really not bad, Grace," she
insisted. "The important this is that I'm not lying to your
mother. Keep that fact straight. You really DID get off on
showing your junk to me and my friends. That's an important piece
of your life that Valerie should be aware of. It's not right to
keep those kind of secrets from her."
   He remembered how hard he'd been that night. The sensational
orgasm he'd experienced with Kelly's fingers. Did that define
him, at least in part? Was it really something Mom had a right to
know about?
  "I know I said I'd wouldn't share the video, but I couldn't
resist - just this one time.  That was it though. From now on, as
long as you continue to behave, your mom will NEVER see the video
of your lips wrapped around my boyfriend's dick. Swear to God."
  The memory was terribly vivid, but it didn't include Amber with
a video camera. She read his surprise, and smiled. "Because if
she did, she would DISOWN you Grace."
  Remembering yesterday's phone conversation, he stammered
petulantly, "No. No. Mom said she didn't care if I was gay. She
wouldn't care."
  The smile became a smirk as Cold Amber made a reappearance.
"Oh, riiiight. Valerie Barre, the Cosmopolitan. Yeah, she was
plenty understanding with a HYPOTHETICAL, Grace. She could afford
to be. Do you really not get what she'd do if she actually saw
her only son sucking a COCK? You would be GONE, sweetness. In a
moment. You'd be out of the house. You'd be completely cut off."
  He knew Amber was right. His mother preached acceptance, but
Grace knew her better than to trust absolutely that her words
always informed her actions.
  His stepsister gently backed him into the lockers before
standing up on her tip-toes, to more easily reach his ear.
  "Let me help you, Grace," she whispered. "Let me save you."
With that, she walked away, merging into the torrent of bodies,
streaming to class. Belatedly, he called after her, "Wait! Get me
ready? Ready for WHAT?!" She didn't turn around, but he won some
curious looks from a few passing students. No one he knew, thank
God.

  After school, Amber drove him to Kristen's house and walked him
to the door. Kelly answered with a squeal of delight.
  "Hey sweets!" Kelly greeted him. She stepped out to grab his
hand, then pulled him inside without even acknowledging his
stepsister.
  Grace felt like he was breaking some intimate barrier by
entering Kristen's house. He didn't really even know her. He just
saw her in passing when she was with Amber. Ultimately, he knew,
it was a silly feeling, and no longer appropriate: he'd already
made love to the girl's feet with his tongue, after all.
  Kelly, still holding his hand, lead him down the entrance
hallway and past the living room on the left. As they passed, a
somewhat frumpy middle-aged woman reclining on the couch looked
up from her book.
  Kelly stopped. "Melissa, this is Grace," she announced. The
woman had to be Kristen's mom. She had the same stringy, greasy
hair. The same flat affect, square chin, and incongruously
elegant nose.
  "Hi there," Melissa mumbled, looking back down at her book. No
curiosity at all as to who this boy was.
  "H-Hey."
  Kelly starting pulling again -- down the hall to a spacious
bathroom, where Kristen was waiting in a white tee shirt and
colorful panties. She looked him over, like she usually did, with
smoldering apathy. She said nothing.
  Kelly guided Grace into the bathroom before closing and locking
the door behind them.
  "Eeei! I'm so excited for this, Gracie!" she squeaked, turning
back to him. "You know what's up, right?"
  "Uh. No?" he responded.
  Kelly rolled her eyes. "Really? Your sister, I swear to God . .
. we talked about it . . ." He didn't bother to correct her with
"STEPsister." Weather the storm, Grace.
  "OK." She took his hands in hers. "Me and Kristen are going to
get you used to . . . well, to DICK!"
  Kelly giggled. Grace turned back to look at Kristen, who was
digging in a cabinet under the sink. She brought out a pair of
dildos, purple and pink. His impression was that they were about
life-sized, although they matched a mature adult cock, not
Grace's own skinny boy erection.
  They were intimidating, at seven inches, but he told himself
they weren't really much wider than Kelly's first two fingers,
and he'd already taken those. In that moment, Grace was worried
most by the way he was behaving and even thinking - as though he
accepted all of this as inevitable. He felt too calm.
  Kelly took his silence as a cue to unlatch his belt. "In order
to get you to where you can really please a man, we have to fight
a two-front war." She giggled again as she unzipped his fly. "I'm
going to stretch out your cute li'l butthole and Kristen is going
to work on your gag reflex." As she ended, Kelly trailed an index
finger gently down from the curve of his lips, over his throat,
and down his sternum. He shivered.
  Grace was hard long before she reached through his open fly to
grab his shaft. When she squeezed, he groaned despite himself.
She giggled again.
  "THIS li'l guy ain't gonna be the focus though sweets," Kelly
scolded. "We are training your HOLES. Because that's how you
please your man, Gracie. He doesn't care about your little
dickie. It's those sexy. Fuckin'. HOLES. That will really make
him happy."  Kelly's intensity was intimidating. Looking up at
that face, so seriously focused, he found he just wanted to keep
her happy.
  Grace glanced back at Kristen, who was perched on the edge of
the bathtub - more like a stretched-out hot tub, really; it had
jets. She was busy applying Vasoline to both fake cocks.
  Kelly pushed down on his chest, encouraging him to sit on the
toilet. Grace helped her, in a daze, to remove his shoes, socks,
jeans, boxers, and tee-shirt. Like undressing for a shower, he
tried to tell himself. Except now he was shedding his clothes
onto an alien lime-green rug, positioned across from an
ostentatiously-cut granite tub. From its rim, Kristen was
watching closely. He looked away; that gaze made him too
uncomfortable. He focused instead on Kelly. Now that he was
totally naked, though, she was just sitting back and looking at
him. A long moment passed: Grace sitting nude on the toilet with
a blush spreading from his face down his neck; Kelly and Kristen
sizing up his exposed body.
  Kelly laughed again as she leaned in and ran her nails up and
down his throbbing dick. "We are going to have SO much fun with
you, sweets." She brought her other hand up to his chest and gave
his nipple a fierce pinch. Both girls chuckled at the resulting
gasp.
  "Okay," Kelly announced. "Time to get to work. Come lay down in
the tub, Grace."
  He complied. It was a really nice tub. With Grace lying supine
lying in the center, knees bent and elevated, there was kneeling
room for a girl on each end. Kristen knelt down by his head;
Kelly by his crotch, cooing praise - he had taken the correct
position without prompting. She pressed down behind his knees to
raise his ass up a little. She was much gentler this time than
she'd been in his basement. It didn't make him feel any less . .
. laid-bare, however.
  Grace strained his head up to watch Kelly working between his
spread thighs. She had some kind of bag-and-tube assembly.
  "It's important to stay clean, Gracie," she told him as she
gently worked a lubed finger into his anus. He shuddered as hated
things began to wake up. "There are two ways of looking at it."
Smoothly, Kelly pulled her finger out to refill from a tub of
Vasoline. "First, the colon is a terrible breeding ground for
dangerous bacteria, like E. coli. Your butt is a royal buffet for
those germs, and it's your responsibility to keep them at bay.
Second," she giggled, "Remember, darling: from here on out,
whatever goes in your ass will probably be going in your mouth
too."
  That gave Grace something to think on, but Kelly demanded his
attention. The plastic nozzle he'd glimpsed earlier . . . she
slid it home slowly. He twitched.
  "I'm going to do this first enema for you, but you will need to
learn to do it on your own. Every day, as a must, but twice a day
would be better." The pressure on his rectum stopped. She leaned
forward into his field of view with an impish smile on her face.
"Ready sweetums? I'm gonna turn on the water --- nice an' slow, I
pwomise." He nodded, face burning anew with shame at her
infantilizing tone. He felt himself filling up right away. Kelly
left the nozzle on for a couple of minutes. By the time she
finally flipped it off and tugged the plastic tip from his
overstimulated little boyhole, Grace was using all his willpower
to keep from squirting that water right back out.
  His mind spun. What would he have to do to get away from her?
From Amber?
  He considered what it would take to leave - keeping the terms
realistic as best he could. Right now, there was sixteen-hundred
dollars in his checking account. If he took the car, it would
likely backfire - it was registered to his mother. But he had
plenty for a bus ticket to wherever he wanted. He knew how to
pull espresso shots, and what town in the country lacked a coffee
shop?
  Mmmm. The fullness felt sort of nice, once you were used to it.
  But Grace had no idea how to find a place to live. Surely there
were apartment listings online. Since Amber had his computer,
he'd need to use the school library, but if he just picked a city
and did some searching, he could probably find a place, he
decided. Didn't he need references, though? Plus, he wasn't
eighteen yet. There were states where the age of consent was
sixteen or seventeen. Did that mean you could get an apartment at
that age, or was it just about sex?
  Mmmmm. She was pumping him sooo full.
  God, he felt stupid. So helpless.


  "How does that feel, hon?" Kelly asked flatly, their eyes
locked. He couldn't mistake the desire in her's, naive as he
still was.
  "It's . . .  ugh." He almost lost it right there, when he
started talking. A sharp spasm behind his belly button nearly
forced a gut-full of shitty water out all at once. Grace took a
moment to tighten up again, then told her, "It's too much, Kelly.
It's really uncomfortable. I gotta go NOW. . ."
  As he spoke, she guided his legs back to their natural extended
position, then swung around to straddle him. His last words were
muffled by her lips - soft, generous, tenacious. Her tongue
explored his eagerly, forcefully. With the confidence of
ownership. She broke contact after a long moment, but stayed on
him, with her crotch applying slight but agonizing pressure to
his abdomen, and peered into his eyes. She was still so close he
could feel her breath. Her eyes were brown, he knew, but right
now they looked so light that they could have been the color of
honey.
  She leaned down again to his lips. He could feel hers moving
against his as she rasped: "Don't squirt. Only bad bad bad boys
squirt. Gracie's not a bad boy though, is he? No. You're a gooood
boy. Yeah. Hold it. Hold it." She pulled back to study his face
again.
  "This is a good amount for you; don't worry. I did some
research and worked out the volume. If you want to get clean, you
gotta hold for at least five minutes. Think you can do that?"
  "Noooo," Grace murmured, eyes closed, head shaking.
  "Oh, of COURSE you can, doofus!" Kelly chided him. "I'll help
you pass the time. Here . . .  lift back up again . . ." She
guided his knees back into their "ready" position: bent and
spread to expose his anus.
  "Now. It's been . . . one minute since I turned off the nozzle,
so we only have four to go. Hold still and I'll entertain you
with a story."
  That sounded too innocent to be true. His instincts were
correct. Kelly's story was an admittedly creative account of
Grace's asshole, and things that happened to it. Basically, she
narrated what she was doing as she stroked and rubbed the
sensitive areas around his opening.
  "Once there was a SAD little finger," that dark voice began in
her best baby-doll imitation. "She had explored far and wide, but
found only a barren wasteland of smooth silky boooooyskin." Grace
moaned shamelessly when Kelly raked her nails down his ass
cheeks. The story went on as she moved the finger in from his
thighs to his anus. Grace wouldn't remember a single additional
word from that story, but he'd never forget how it felt when
Kelly rubbed her finger around the rim of his anus, pinching the
oh-so-sensitive flesh between her eager digit and the hard
plastic surface of the enema nozzle.
  Once in a while, a hand would drift down to quickly caress his
straining dick, but mostly she rubbed a spit-lubed finger
(Grace's spit, of course) in circles around his clamped-down
rosebud.
  It was the purest form of torture. He was SO turned on, but the
feelings in his rectum were confusing and frightening. Grace felt
nice behind his belly. . . and warm . .  . but he also needed to
shit - badly - whenever Kelly poked into him. He needed so
desperately to unload his balls, but he was terrified that, if he
came, he'd lose control and poop all over Kelly.
  Pleasure, shame, and panic all mixed up together. Perfect.
  Kelly abandoned her twisted fairytale to explain the basics of
the enema: water temperature (important to avoid cramps), how to
hang the bag, how to get into position so that he could control
the valve by himself. How long to hold in the water. They were
really serious about this. They really were going to make him do
this to himself.
  After an excruciating five minutes, Kelly and Kristen looked on
while he evacuated in the toilet, groaning with relief. They
repeated the process. While Kelly was filling him up again, she
carefully explained about the bag sizes. She showed him where she
had made a permanent-marker line on the enema bag to show how
much water had just been inside him. He then watched in disbelief
as she methodically traced another line on the bag, above the
first. Well above, actually.
  "We'll aim for a little more each time. The more water we can
get in, the cleaner you'll be." That didn't sound very
reasonable, but she shushed his protests. "You'll STRETCH, dear,
just like your boyhole's gonna stretch . . . and your throat too.
The human body's an amazing thing, Grace," Kelly chastised, now
busy preparing enema number two. "We are a lot more elastic than
you might think."
  When he was once again filled to the bursting point, Kelly
decided to make a game out of slapping and pushing on his belly.
At the same time, she admonished him sharply.
  "Don't you DARE shit all over this bathtub. DisGUSting!"
  "Oh, don't be such a girl. I barely touched you."
  "Fuuuck you're a pussy! Take it, just take it."
  "Don't you DARE!"
  Finally:  "OK. One more poke . . ." She giggled once again when
her two-finger prod brought a desperate squeal to his lips.
Grace's bowels were screaming.

  His dickie had never been harder.

  They repeated the process again. This time, Kelly set aside the
game to make sure Grace learned his first lesson: how to lie on
his side with one knee up so that he could control the nozzle
himself. This time, she let him perform the enema all the way
through, explaining the importance of proper water temperature in
preventing cramps.
  When he came back from the toilet that third time, Grace was in
a daze.  Lying back down in the tub, he didn't see her grab the
dildo; he was focused absently on the ceiling when she guided it
in, all seven inches in a single confident thrust.
  The boy came before he even knew what was happening. Mostly on
his chest; a little on his neck. The sudden intrusion was
painful. The dildo had been lubed, but his opening still burned
with the unexpected stretch. Yet at the same time Grace felt
little twinges of pleasure, radiating from his gut and dripping
down his legs, making them twitch a little.
  Both girls laughed uproariously. They explained that his face
had been "priceless, just priceless" at the moment of
penetration. Kelly praised Kristen's presence of mind for
grabbing the camera.  Then she left the dildo planted while she
scooped his jizz up and fed it to him. Grace was surprised by how
different he tasted, compared to Brian. Sweeter . . . still with
a salty base, but with sweet overtones.

  Kelly let him rest for a minute, although she left the dildo in
place. She patiently explained how she'd be working to stretch
out his boypussy, and how Kristen would be helping him with his
gag reflex. On cue, Kristen moved from a kneeling position to sit
cross-legged at the end of the tub. She gently lifted his head to
pillow it on her lap. Then, without warning, she draped a heavy,
floppy, bright purple cock over his face.
  When Grace jumped a little in surprise, his gut tightened
instinctively, and then his body conspired against him. He
couldn't turn off the muscles. Everything clamped down around the
dildo in a sort of chain reaction. And it was so TIGHT. His
violated hole screamed loudly.
  The pain lasted five or six long seconds. Both girls lent
perquisite mews of sympathy. Kristen wrinkled her nose in
concern, like a bunny. It was cute.
  "Oh, sweetie! I'm sorry," Kelly cried. "That hurt, huh? It's
VERY important that you don't tense up, otherwise everything just
clamps like a charliehorse. Gotta keep it relaxed down there. If
you just relax, it's really not as bad as you'd expect, hon. I
promise.
  He willed himself to believe her. What else to do?
  She let him rest another minute, then returned her attention to
the dildo. She slid it out with glacial slowness. There was
enough lube so that it didn't really hurt, but still friction
gripped him. Kelly worked an index finger into his mouth, and he
lathered it dutifully.
  She rubbed it around the rim of his anus, at the spot where his
lining was being dragged out  - ever so slightly - by the fat
plastic cock. His unrestrained moans were delightful to her;
addictive. As she worked, she talked to him, outlining a few
details of his training plan. Predictably, Grace found it
impossible to focus on the future while that seven-inch dick
tickled his rectum, prodded his special spot insistently; again
and again.
  She didn't care. Kelly told him the theory - how the gag reflex
could be diminished, and eventually extinguished, by repeated
stimulation. That was how sword swallowers did it, after all. The
idea was that Kristen would trigger a gag every thirty seconds.
After ten minutes, he was to be allowed a three minute rest
break, then more gagging -- for another ten minutes if he could
take it, but five would be an acceptable minimum. They were going
to repeat this treatment every day. When his highest gag reflex
was tamed, Kristen would sink deeper to trigger the next one. He
had five, he was told, from his mouth to his stomach. They would
only need to train three.
  Grace was lost, so lost. He reflected - this detachment didn't
have quite the nightmarish quality it'd possessed when Kelly had
last worked his ass. This time he was in a . . .  warmer haze.
Maybe it was the cozy surroundings. Kristen supported his head so
lovingly. She dragged her long nails, with feather lightness,
back and forth across his face and down his chest in a soothing
rhythm.
  His inner voice wondered if it was the delicious tightness of
that dildo sliding inside of him that was setting the warm tone -
fucking him like a real man would do.
  Was going to do.
  Grace rebelled at the notion. It was the cozy surroundings. In
reality, it was probably just the warmer temperature and nothing
more, he was quite sure.
  Nonetheless, he was damn relaxed by the time Kristen's fingers
gently - but insistently - parted his lips for the colorful
floppy dick. She methodically worked it down his throat while
Kelly amused herself rubbing her hands all over his inner thighs,
perineum, balls, dick, boycunt. He was once again aching-hard.
  Then he gagged. Kristen was quick; she pulled back right away;
he was grateful for that. He finally realized that this was why
they were in the bathtub. Luckily his nerves had killed his
appetite that day. His stomach was all but empty. While they
waited for the next gagging, Kelly kept rubbing his legs, and
Kristen produced a cloth to dry up the tears and mucous the
gagging released.
  It didn't take much to make Grace gag. Kristen barely needed to
his the back of his throat. After five or six gag-rest cycles. He
started to feel panicky. FORTY of these?!
  But as fate would have it, he came again not long after, and it
worked to his favor. Both girls mercifully set aside their tools
to collect the cum. He had a glorious two-minute rest while they
methodically scooped it into his mouth. Even better, they decided
he had earned his three-minute break as well. They filled the
time for him, leaning in from opposite ends to each latch onto a
nipple. Grace shuddered.
  Both girls liked to suck HARD. He could almost see the hickeys
he was gonna have on his boobs. They were also both fond of
another move -- holding the nipple steady with their lips and
then teasing the living shit out of the very very TIP with their
tongues. That tiny little spot. Jesus. It was intense.
  But when the sucking was interrupted by Kelly's phone alarm,
they sat up to take their positions. Kelly re-lubed up the dildo,
and it popped in smoothly. He grunted again. Now, while Kristen
was gagging him, Kelly began to focus on his balls. At one point,
she left the dildo planted to free both her hands. Wrapping one
around the base of his sack, squeezing it tight. With the other
hand, tickling and stroking his ball, and oh god - oh so gently
KNEADING.
  He made it through to the timer alarm. Just barely. The mouth
dildo popped out. Kelly was slower. She dragged the dildo out of
his hole inch by inch, ever so gradually. When the tip finally
cleared him, she paused,  hovering over his reddened sphincter.
Then, with a peevish smirk, she shoved all seven fat inches back
into his gut.
  This orgasm was basically dry, but it was by far the most
intense. It just kept going. Thirty seconds at least, Grace
writhed in that bathtub - hips jerking, legs twitching. His
handlers loved the display, but there was another gag session
ahead of him.
  This half was to prove significantly harder. Grace had had
three orgasms in the last half-hour, and that last one had really
worn him down. His throat was aching, and the hard bathtub floor
was starting to dig at his spine. But when Kelly started playing
with him, he just got so . . .  excited. She'd told him that the
focus would not be on his dick, and she was in fact paying more
attention to his asshole, but his cock was certainly not ignored.
  She WAS tough with it, though. It wasn't a vanilla handjob;
Kelly's treatment had once again turned painful. She liked to
squeeze his shaft tightly with one hand, and then lightly scratch
all over his bloated head with the nails of the other. Bottom to
top; top to bottom; in circles around the rim - that sensitive
ring around the very bottom of the head. One lone nail gently
digging in his urethra - pleasure and pain were coming too fast.
They were mixing together.
  Nearing the end of his final ten minutes   of gagging, Grace
came a fourth time. The girls decided he'd taken enough to
warrant calling it quits. Kristen got up, gently lowering his
head to the floor. She hopped out of the tub and over to the
vanity, where she began poking through drawers. Kelly stayed,
absently rubbing her thumb in circles on his anus.
  It had been two days since he'd shaved, she told him, so they
were going to go over his crotch again. Kelly stopped her
circling and sat up.
  "Ya know what? While we're at it, lets just do all of him."
  Kristen turned. "Think so?"
  "Sure! Amber won't mind. Let's make him smooth!"
  Grace was ordered to stand. Kristen returned with a pair of
razors and a can of shaving gel. She made liberal use of the gel,
more or less covering his body from his cheekbones to the tops of
his feet. Each girl took a razor and got to work. His face, his
chest, his back, his arms and legs, his pubis, his butt cheeks,
and the area around his hole. For the last, Kelly challenged him
to hook his ankles behind his head. Grace had always been pretty
flexible. He couldn't quite make it, but he was able to bring
both feet up to his forehead. She told him they would work on it.
  Now hairless, Grace remained in the shower - to actually take a
shower. When he was all rinsed off, Kelly had him do some
stretches, working on getting his legs behind his head. She
explained that it was a special turn-on for some guys. Kristen
just watched. After a minute, Kelly settled down to watch as
well. It felt like damn near a half-hour he spent on his back,
pulling on his bent legs. Then the doorbell rang. Kelly sighed
miserably.
  "I guess we're done with you for tonight." When Grace stood up,
she handed him his boxers. With an unexpected smile she added,
"See ya tomorrow, beautiful." Grace flushed, and dressed as
quickly as he could while Kristen went to let Amber in. He wanted
to forget everything that had happened. He felt wronged, and he
hated himself for the pleasure he'd taken in his "treatment". He
kept betraying himself. Why was he so weak? It didn't help that
Amber insisted, on the ride home, that he recount the evening to
her in excruciating detail. As he spoke, she would interrupt to
praise him for his cooperation or scold him for his sluttiness.
  "You came FOUR TIMES?! Christ, Grace. You're a bit of a whore,
aren't ya?" As humiliated as he had been, telling Amber about his
experience, her reaction pushed him even lower. Grace fought back
tears for the rest of the trip. Amber noticed, but she didn't
coddle him this time. He needed to learn he was a whore sooner or
later. Probably best he know early on.
  Instead, she praised him for taking an important step in his
transformation, and told him she was proud of his courage.
  "Remember, Grace, above everything else: all of this is for
you. It's all intended to help you reach a point where you can be
happy with who you are." He returned Amber's gentle smile, but he
wasn't fooled. Were he to give his stepsister the benefit of a
doubt, he would conclude that she at best had dual motives. Only
a day before, Amber had made Grace suck the load out of her
boyfriend's cock when Brian had finished fucking her. Grace knew
the taste, and he knew the smell. Right now the odor of her
arousal filled the car.
  It was so pungent, he couldn't believe that she wasn't aware.
Yet Amber gave no sign; didn't even crack a window. Did she
really not smell it? Maybe she smelled it but just didn't care.
Maybe she was growing tired of the official story she'd been
telling Grace. By now, she no doubt understood that he was too
fragile to confront her. He'd grown too submissive to contradict
what they both knew was a lie.

  Grace returned for training each night for the rest of the
week. By Friday, Kristen was able to get noticeably deeper in his
throat before he gagged. It really was getting desensitized.
Kelly kept working the 7" dildo in him. The discomfort had faded
now, but he was still getting a good stretch. In some ways, it
seemed like the more she played with him, the more sensitive he
became. No, not more sensitive, but more perceptive, maybe. His
anus, his rectum, his prostate - a week before they were nothing
but utilitarian. He wasn't SUPPOSED to get intense sensation from
them, and the feelings were so confusing. Yet after four days of
serious play, Grace was beginning to adjust a little; learning to
sort out the sensations flooding into him. Even learning (oh,
GOD!) how to appreciate them.
  Each night, his mother would ask how his day had been, and
seemed to consciously avoid asking her son any follow up
questions. Thursday, when he was helping fold some laundry,
Valerie mentioned that Amber had filled her in on some details of
his therapy. Thankfully, his honest reaction was the best one.
  "No! Not actual details sweetie. That was the wrong word. She
just shared a few of the things you told her, that's all. It
sounds like a good place for you. I'm glad you're getting
better."
  With that, he had escaped the topic. Amber laughed him off
when, after parting ways with his mother, he slipped through her
bedroom door and admonished her with a frantic hiss.
  "What did you tell my mom?! What was I supposed to have said to
you?"
  "Don't worry, hon. She doesn't really want to know anyway. She
dropped the topic, didn't she?"
  She was right; Valerie hadn't shown any serious interest in
hearing about Grace's "group therapy", but the constant deception
left him on edge, and Amber's games sapped any last bit of
control he might have felt.

  Amber was early on Friday, so she got to observe the last few
minutes of his session. When she entered the bathroom (leaving an
ever-non-curious Melissa downstairs), Kelly was fucking him
briskly; with long, full strokes. He was between gaggings, but
Kristen had taken to leaving the dildo head in his mouth so that
he could practice his blowjob technique.
  All in all, Grace made quite a spectacle. His smooth, pale,
slender nude form was striking enough on its own. Now, she
delighted in watching that body enraptured in sissy pleasure. The
way his bony hips would thrust up to bring his frustrated cock
head up into Kelly's teasing fingertips. The way his coltish legs
trembled when the sensations in his prostate overcame him. Most
of all, the look on his face - eager, frightened, filled with
supplication. It was wonderful.
  He didn't see Amber come in, and, after they finished, he was
painfully aware of how he'd been grunting shamelessly by the time
Kelly began to pick up the dildo pace. He supposed it made no
difference in the end. Amber already thought he was a whore.
  Friday night, Grace sensed . . . something when Amber picked
him up. As they drove, she praised him like usual but then said,
"Grace, we need to talk for a little while, okay?" He nodded.
"I'm just gonna drive for a while and we're gonna talk, alright?
I have to fill you in on some stuff."
  He heart seemed to jump up to his throat. They sat in silence
for a minute, but Amber must have known how scared he was. She
squeezed his hand warmly, then held it for a while.
  "Don't WORRY, hon!" she said with a sparkling laugh, "It's
nothing bad!" Grace smiled a bit. She could always get him to
smile.
  "I've been thinking," Amber started, growing serious, "about
your transition. It's going to be important for you to shift the
focus of your pleasure. Do you understand?" He didn't. "Well . .
."
  She thought for a moment, searching for words, still holding
his hand in her lap. She took a left and accelerated up the ramp
to the freeway. Where were they going?
  "Well, because you've lived with a penis all your life, you've
grown fixated on IT as the source of your sexual pleasure. That's
not right, though, is it? Girls don't have penises. They get
their pleasure from someone ELSE'S penis. They don't have the
luxury of being able to stroke a rod whenever they want. They
have to earn and keep a man in order to have a supply of dick."
Grace felt vaguely guilty. For having a penis? He supposed.
  "Grace, the most important thing you need to learn, in order to
become a woman, is how to earn and keep a man. What good are you
otherwise, right?" He nodded tentatively. "But you'll never learn
to draw pleasure from your man's penis if you're fixated on your
own, right?" His heart began to pound. What was she planning?!?
  Once again, Amber seemed to sense his discomfort, and quickly
went on: "I'm going to buy you a chastity device, Grace. Do you
know what that is? It's a sort of cage that goes around your
penis and prevents it from getting hard. It will help you to keep
your focus."
  After that sank in, she ribbed him, "Did you think I was gonna
cut your dick off, Bro?" They both had a solid laugh at that,
although Grace joined in almost purely out of glorious relief
that she would NOT, in fact, be cutting his dick off.
  Their destination was the Adult Video store off the interstate
about three miles outside of town. The stilted neon sign glowed
warmly in the October night sky, promising not just Adult Videos,
but More. They were there for the More, he reflected with the
detached amusement he'd been relying on lately.
  The parking lot was empty, save for two other cars. The store
itself was brightly lit. They both had to squint a little when
they stepped in. Grace looked around with anxious curiosity. He
had trouble forming an impression of the room. There was too much
of the unfamiliar. He began by scanning the shelves - rows of
porno DVDs, vibrators of all kinds, similarly-sized items he
didn't recognize. Racks on either side of the entrance aisle were
replete with leather. Lacier items were ahead, deeper in the
store.
  "Good evening folks. My name is Rick. May I help you find
anything? Answer any questions you might have?"
  The owner of the voice was about what Grace had expected for a
sex shop employee. He had a mop of limp, greasy hair hanging down
to his jawline. He'd pushed it haphazardly behind his ears, and
seemed to be fighting a losing battle to keep it there. Thick
eyebrows shadowed dark, penetrating eyes that fixed on Grace and
pinned him in place. They were framed by a face full of black
three-day stubble. The beard faded away down the neck just before
it joined with a shock of thick chest hair emerging from a
partially-button casual dress shirt. The man looked on the young
side of middle-aged. Grace didn't see any gray hair.
  "Nice to meet you Rick. I'm Amber Jefts and this is my
stepbrother, Grace Barre." She exchanged a firm handshake with
the man. "I'd like to look at some chastity devices. I'm leaning
towards a cage. What can you show me?"
  Rick - the store's owner, as it turned out -  took them a few
aisles down, to a large display featuring dozens of different
plastic contraptions. He was telling Amber about them. Grace
heard the words, but he didn't listen; couldn't. He was
captivated by all the pictures. Some of these things looked damn
painful. Amber didn't take long to make her selection
  "This one looks perfect for him, Rick. May we try it on?"
  The man studied Grace carefully. "Well, it's against store
policy, but you seem like nice folks, so I'll make an exception.
Let's step over to the side here and I'll show you how it works."
As they moved out of the aisle and over to the wall, the man
placed a hand on Grace's hip. He rattled some product features
off to Amber as he dropped to one knee and began to untie the
boy's shoelaces. Grace just stared at the greasy crown of the
man's head. Rick pulled off Grace's socks, stuffed them into his
shoes, and set the lot down in the corner. Abruptly, he excused
himself.
  Rick disappeared for about five minutes. They heard what must
have been the other customer exchanging sharp words. A moment
later the storefront lights went out. Rick returned apologizing
for the interruption. As though he'd never left, the man slid
Grace's pants and boxers all the way off; in one deft move. He
casually tossed them into the corner on top of his shoes.
  "Now, this will be a issue," he told Amber gravely. Rick's
thick hand closed around Grace's erection. The boy moaned,
naturally. "He needs to be soft to fit in the cage," Rick
cautioned. Turning to Grace, he asked, "Can you get it down, boy?
Relax?"
  Amber answered for him - with a giggle. "Not likely, Rick! He's
super into you, can't you tell? Gracie has been eying your body
since we got here."
  It was true, in a sense. Grace had been studying the man,
albeit not out of desire, but rather a sort of horrified
curiosity. Rick was just so - earthy, so rough-looking. He was
dirty, no doubt, but it turned out he didn't smell bad, and the
way he acted made Grace somehow feel like the dirt didn't matter
so much either. It was just a part of the man.
  Amber knew how Grace felt, of course. She had been watching him
carefully all week, and he was easy to read, too. Grace wore his
every emotion on his face, like a christin' puppy. It made him
easy to manipulate, and . . . well, and sexy too. In a perverse
sort of way. She wasn't attracted to Grace like she was to her
boyfriend, but the rush she got from making him do things, feel
things - it made her just as wet as Brian did. She didn't
understand the impulse. Amber had picked on Grace for years -
gently, but he sorta asked for it, too. It wasn't until the
previous weekend, however, that she started getting turned on by
it. Jesus, turned on by it. She knew it was real, but dammit, why
her? The absolute peak so far had been seeing Brian's thick head
go from her pussy to her stepbrother's fey little mouth. God,
it'd made her come so hard. Now, right now, the fag's reaction to
her charge told her that she'd picked the right tactic. God was
he ever cute. Like a goldfish.
  "He's gonna stay rock hard as long as you're around, Rick
honey!" Amber added gleefully.
  Grace looked down at the grubby hand rubbing his dick; the
filthy thumbnail dragging along his swollen head. He moaned
again. She was right. Rick was making him rock-hard. As disgusted
as he'd been by the man initially, Grace was quickly going into
heat regardless. It was the authority Rick wielded. The
confidence with which he worked Grace's body. The ease with which
those dirty hands manipulated him. Calm and dominant. He felt a
sudden mad urge to lie down on the sales floor carpet and pull
Rick on top of him. To just let that warm, hairy bulk cover him
up; just for a little while. Just to shield him from all the
craziness.
  Rick seemed unfazed by the problem the hardon presented.
  'kay then. Let's clean 'im out." He gave Grace a few firm
squeezes, then began to work his cock up and down, while
straining to reach into the corner at the same time. "Let's go
boy," he implored, finally pulling his other hand back. "You can
nut on your li'l undies here." Grace's stomach was filled with
butterflies. To be standing in a retail store completely naked
from the waist down, being masturbated by this grubby stranger.
He was so ashamed and exhilarated that he could barely breathe.
  "Let's go boy," Rick said again. With his free hand, Rick
pulled Grace's tee-shirt up over his head. Rick moved around to
stand behind his new quarry. As he stroked him with one hand, he
explored the sleek front of his body with the other. Rick had
blue collar hands - large, powerful, nicely calloused. When he
ran them over the downy-soft skin of Grace's  neck, chest, belly
. . . the boy shivered a little. The stimulation was just right;
he couldn't help it. Grace found himself melting back against the
man. He couldn't resist rubbing his back on that chest a little.
The thick hair felt nice on his smooth bare back. So nice.
  Of course he was shocked at how quickly this greasy man - with
nicotine-stained teeth - had gotten him sooo turned on. But
Grace's shame; his anger and fear: well, they all took a back
seat to his pleasure in the end.
  Amber was quick to help out. "He needs something in his ass,
Rick. That's how he cums."
  Rick laughed, "Well are you EVER in the right place, darlin'!
He gently pressed under Grace's chin, lifting the boy's head to
look him in the eyes. "Do you wanna pick one out yourself, boy?"
  Amber spoke up again: "I think he'd much prefer the benefit of
your expertise, Rick. Isn't that right Grace?" He nodded
automatically, a deer in the headlights of those dark dark eyes.
The sort of cold fire behind them suddenly reminded him so
strongly of Mr. Williams, his history teacher. So strongly in
fact that Grace couldn't hold in a little gasp of recognition.
Rick simply took it as reaction to the promise of a toy. It might
as well have been. There were some intimidating items lining the
shelves. Fortunately, the one Rick selected --- a slender,
slightly curved six-inch phallus with a little ball on the tip --
seemed pretty tame. He pulled some lube off a display nearby and
worked a few gobs into Grace with a thick index finger. The dildo
itself felt pretty good. Rick put it in very slowly, and it was
almost buried completely when Grace felt the thing sort of fit
into place. It gently bumped something in his gut, and then
settled to a stop. Rick left it parked.
  Once he turned on the vibrator, Grace was set on a fast track
to ejaculation. He pictured a glowing spot inside his gut, just
below his belly button. The buzzing toy kept pumping up that
brilliant spot until it filled his whole body with a special
light that just had to escape. Had to.
  "This is a real nice item," the man explained, seemingly
oblivious to Grace's near-orgasm distress, "That vibrating head
sits right up against the prostate. Sure to make 'em squirt, no
doubt about that."
  It was a dry orgasm, and even a little painful for the boy, but
it didn't matter; he was thoroughly preoccupied with the amazing
feelings in his belly.
  Grace eventually realized that Rick was holding him up in a
standing position, clutching the boy against his chest ever since
his legs had given out when the dildo went on.  He wriggled free
as politely as he could.
  "All right, now. Let's see how this feels, huh?" Rick got to
his knees again, this time to fit the shaft of the cage around
Grace's now-limp penis. He swung another part, underneath it, to
perch under Grace's balls. Rick slowly adjusted the cage until it
was as tight as reasonably possible, then threaded a tiny padlock
through the pieces.  It was by no means comfortable, but the cage
wasn't outright painful. Grace relayed as much to his stepsister.
She decided it was perfect for him.
  "It's not supposed to be COMFORTABLE, Gracie," she reminded him
with some disdain. "We're not here to make your cock happy. We're
here to get the nasty thing under control."
  "I take it Grace will be wearing this out?" Rick asked.
  "Of course. It's already locked, after all. Oh, that reminds
me, the keys?" She inquired. He handed her a plastic bag.
  "Three copies included with this model."
  Amber gave Grace a slow, naughty wink. "I guess I have some
decisions to make, huh?" she teased. "Who's good enough for
little Gracie's goods?"
  Rick didn't acknowledge the levity. He set the cock cage box on
top on an end cap display.
  "God damn. I can't get over how smooth his little body is."
Rick wrapped his hands around Grace's wrists, then slid them up
his arms, across his chest, down his sides. Grace shuddered at
the stimulation. "How old are you, son?"
  "Sev-seventeen, sir."
  "Seventeen, Jesus. You shave yourself, honey?"
  "No. No, sir. Uh. My, uh, friends did it."
  Rick laughed, "Your FRIENDS, hey? You have got yourself some
friends, haven't you?"
  "Yes, sir."
  The man laughed again and brought his hands down to rest on the
globes of Grace's ass. He spoke to Amber: "Tell you what, Ms.
Jefts, I'll let you have that cage as a courtesy, along with the
wand. If you would let me fuck 'im a little."
  Amber didn't hesitate; not nearly enough for comfort. "Well
that sounds pretty fair, don't you think Grace sweetie? Although,
you know, Rick, you will be his first man. Tell you what, I'll
give you some time with Gracie if I can stay and watch."
  Rick thought carefully for a moment. "Deal. But you keep quiet,
huh? Not a peep."
  He promptly took Grace by the hand and led him up towards the
front of the store. As they walked behind the register counter
and up a flight of stairs, Amber in tow, Grace fought to control
his mounting panic. He took slow deep breaths to combat the
tunnel threatening to close around his vision.  This was it. She
was serious. He realized that, mechanically speaking, this would
be nothing new. Grace had been taking a phallus in both ends all
week. He'd given a real blowjob, too.
  But this was a huge step. Actually getting FUCKED. Having sex
with a man. A stranger. Grace became aware of his cock cage.
Already he hated it. He needed to get hard, but his dick had
nowhere to go. Being trapped in a barely semi-erect state was a
strange feeling, and he gave himself credit for not failing to
appreciate the irony. It looked like, at long last, his
embarrassing problem with erections had been resolved.

  Rick kept a rather large apartment - most all of the building's
second floor. There was room for not only a modest office setup,
but two bedrooms and a full kitchen at that. The bedroom was
their destination. When Rick flipped on the light and moved to
stand in the middle of the room, Grace thought he could guess at
what was expected of him. Nervously, he knelt down in front of
his new patron and unlatched his belt.
  "Whoa whoa whoa!" Grace had guessed wrong. Rick's firm hands
closed around the boy's shoulders and gently brought him to his
feet. "Hold on now, son," he said warmly. "We ain't in no rush,
are we?" Grace shook his head. Rick was more than a head taller
than him. Grace was standing so close in that he had to tilt his
head all the way back to meet the man's gaze. Rick seemed to like
this, and pulled Grace in to his chest. "What do you say we get
to know each other a little better first, huh? Sound good?"
  He told Grace just what to do. "Go ahead and take my shirt off
for me. Yeah, that's it; unbutton it all the way down. Set it on
the bureau there. Why don't you feel my body a little? Come in
close here and put your hands on my chest . . . like that. Feel
down on my stomach. Now put your hands on my shoulders and my
arms. Feel my muscles."
  Grace found he enjoyed the guidance. The distraction of
following simple directions like this took the edge off his
panic. And the man wasn't horrible, really, once you got used to
his appearance. Rick did have nice muscles. He felt solid. Warm.
Grace noticed the body odor: sharp, a little sour, but . . .
somehow not that off-putting. Grace felt a sudden hot flush of
shame with the realization that he actually found the smell
weirdly interesting, but it didn't stop him from stepping in just
a little closer to the hairy chest. Rick noticed the move.
  "That feels good, doesn't it baby?" he asked. Grace nodded.
"Come up here and kiss me for a little while," Rick directed.
Grace balked for a moment, thinking of those teeth, but he didn't
move his head when Rick leaned down and planted him one.
  Rick moved his lips gently over Grace's pretty mouth. His
tongue poked tentatively at the boy's closed teeth, and Grace
found himself opening up. He sparred playfully with the invading
tongue for a bit. Rick wrapped a strong arm around Grace's back
and pulled the boy's smooth body in to press against his own
hairy chest. The kiss started to build up steam. The sucking
became more insistent. Grace moaned softly when Rick firmly
sucked his lower lip out and gave it a few gentle nibbles.
  The man's hot breathe in his ear seemed to warm him all over.
"Reach down and feel me, babe. Rub your hand on it and give it a
little squeeze too." They went back to kissing for another couple
minutes while Grace traced the outline of Rick's hard cock with
his fingers, gently squeezed the shaft, tickled the head. Grace
didn't notice that Rick had guided him to the foot of the bed
until he got a rough shove to the chest and fell back onto the
mattress. Rick stepped back and stripped off the rest of his
clothes. "Put your arms up above your head, baby. Spread your
legs just a little." He knelt down at the side of the bed and
reached over to run a hand down the length of Grace's body.
Gently, he pulled the boy closer to the side of the bed until he
was comfortable he could reach everything he wanted.
  "FUUUCK," Rick exclaimed in a stage-whisper. "Your little body
is PERFECT, d'ya know that, baby. Just perfect. Hold still, I
want to play with you a little. I can't get enough of that body."
  Grace supposed it was rather pathetic: how much that praise
meant to him. But he couldn't help how he felt. He rewarded Rick
with a shy smile as the man slowly rubbed him all over. Those
gentle hands, with their rough calloused palms, moved down his
chest, lingered on his ass, stroked the outside of his legs from
hip to ankle, then turned and ran up the inside of his legs all
the way to the cock cage. When they massaged Grace's thighs, just
under his balls, he couldn't stop his hips from thrusting out a
little in pure instinct.
  A finger made its way to his mouth and Grace sucked eagerly. He
soon realized that it wasn't for lubrication though. Rick wasn't
playing Kelly's game. He added a second finger, and swirled them
around in Grace's mouth until he finally caught on, closed his
lips, and began to suck. After perhaps a minute, Rick stopped to
lie down next to him.
  "Ready to suck me?"
  Grace found that he was ready. He really did want this. He'd
never been so excited - and so PLIANT - in his life. He thought
back to Brian. Monday, when Amber had made him suck Brian, Grace
had gotten into it. He enjoyed having control over the big jock's
pleasure. Or so he'd reasoned at the time.
  Rick put that experience in perspective though. It hadn't been
the control that excited him. Rick had called all the shots and
yet Grace was more excited than ever.
  The poor boy struggled to carry his train of thought through to
completion, but he was so horny it was hard to think straight.
Then his guilty inner voice spoke up, for the first time since
he'd stood naked in the kitchen Monday night.
  Of course it wasn't the control, it reminded him. You need your
will to be removed; we already covered that, sissy, remember? No,
what excited you that night was giving pleasure; making that
confident, popular, virile guy feel oh so good. Look at you now.
Look at how much pleasure you're giving Rick. And why is this
better? It's better, you whore, because this man frees you from
being silly nervous Grace Barre. Right now, you get to be a body.
A toy. A utility. Don't you feel free?
  He did feel free. In answer to Rick's question, Grace snaked a
wet tongue into his belly button.
  "Christ, baby. That's so hot. I'm already close. Don't touch my
cock for a minute, alright? I want you to start by nuzzling in
around it; smell it a little. Just sorta rub on me. I want to
feel your face."
  Grace did his best. A firm hand on the back of his head
supplied direction, and a lot of the force too. Rick rubbed the
boy's face on his thighs, his scrotum, his pubic mound, and
finally moved it to poise over his angry-looking erection.
  "Put it in now." He laid back as Grace worked his mouth on the
head and down the shaft. It tasted . . . okay. Not as good as
Brian. There was a stale, gamey quality to it. But Grace
persisted, and it didn't take him long to lick it away. He was
generating enough slobber that the rough taste mostly faded as he
worked the cock. This time, Rick didn't offer a lot of direction,
just praise. The boy enjoyed another swell of pride. He built up
a rhythm. After a couple minutes of bouncing and licking, he
carefully began working the  thick head into his throat.
  Rick stopped him. "Nuh, none of that shit, baby. I don't wanna
come in your mouth. Get up here and lay on your stomach. I'm
gonna fuck you now."
  And just like that, he did. Rick's cock was spit-lubed enough
to slide in without too much trouble. Grace was thankful for his
training. It was definitely a stretch, but the pain was minimal.
His partner let out a deep sigh and, when fully buried, relaxed
all his weight on the boy. Grace felt the differences
immediately: unlike the dildo, this cock was warm. It was spongy
but hard at the same time. He could feel it flex and pulse inside
him. Most of all, though, it was attached to a heavy, powerful,
manly body. The same body that was, at the moment, crushing him
into the mattress; immobilizing him. After a long moment, Rick
sighed again, then wrapped his arms and legs around his hairless
toy and - leaving his cock embedded, rolled them both onto their
sides.
  They rutted that way for fifteen minutes or so before Rick
decided he wanted deeper penetration. He had Grace lie on his
back, and pulled the boy's feet up over his thick shoulders while
he entered him missionary-style. Rick loved pinning the boy like
this. He grabbed the slender ankles and brought them off his
shoulders. He experimenting playfully with a few leg positions
before deciding to test his fucktoy's limits. He found that with
a little encouragement, the boy's ankles could be hooked behind
his head. Grace cried a little, but he didn't say anything. Rick
stopped fucking for a minute to focus on softly running his
fingernails all over the stretch-out, creamy skin underneath him.
He focused on those slender little thighs - beginning to tremble
with the strain of their position. Scratch-scratch-scratch; up
from the mounds of the buttocks to where the legs disappeared
behind the boy's head. Grace was squealing unabashedly now. Rick
worked the thighs as long as he could stand before re-entering
the boy with frantic vigor. He fucked the kid HARD now. Grace
kept squealing, and the noises drove Rick on. He slammed down on
the little asshole again and again, mattress bouncing; old
springs screeching in complaint.
  At last, when he couldn't hold back, he took the boy firmly
around the jaw to position his head while he jerked himself to
completion.
  "Close your eyes, baby. Your mouth too. I wanna keep as much of
this on your face as I can. Yeah, keep your head tilted all the
way back like that. That's it."
  It felt like a big load. Grace kept his face as level as he
could. Thick cum pooled in the hollows of his eye sockets. It
dripped down his cheeks, tickling. Rick had Grace sit up. He used
a thick thumb to clear his eyes and rub the cum around as evenly
as he could. Handing the boy a rag, he instructed:  "Careful with
your eyes. It'll burn if it gets in there. Make sure you clean
that area good. The rest, I want you to leave on. Keep that face
up for a couple minutes and build a base.  Then you can scrape
off the excess so it doesn't drip too bad. You can wash your face
when you wake up tomorrow. Tonight, I want you to wear me home,
baby."
  With that, Grace felt a thrill surge through his gut. His abs
started to spasm. It felt like he was coming, except his dick and
balls were barely involved. Instead, everything was happening on
the inside. In all the time Kelly had been fucking him, he'd
never felt anything like this. It was a truly alien sensation,
but the pleasure was so intense that he stopped analyzing the
feeling; he drowned himself in it.
  Rick had already pulled away and started dressing.
  "Tell me what you need to get him back here, Amber."
  "Oh, not much, I'm sure." She'd been hunched on a desk chair in
the corner, but now stood and made her way over to the bed.
"Grace would just love to come back for another play date," she
said, looking down with amusement as Grace recovered from his
orgasm. "But there could be something, Rick. I was told I could
ask you about Sissy's Little Helper."
  Rick's face darkened instantly. "Oh yeah? Who told you that?"
  Amber replied smoothly, "Scott's a friend of my dad's. He said
that you like to be 'in on the ground floor.'"
  Rick relaxed a little. His face stayed serious, but his eyes
softened. "Yeah . . . he's right about that. OK, tell you what?
Three times a week to start. I'll make it an even exchange. No
money involved." He read something in Amber's expression. "Hey
look, miss Amber. It's a even exchange or nothing. And I'm the
only show in town, my friend."
  "Fair enough," she replied evenly. They shook hands again, and
Rick led them down to the sales floor. "Monday - Wednesday -
Friday work for you?"
  "Yep. I'm usually in here at six. If he arrives before, he can
talk to Jeremy to get something to do while he waits." Rick
collected Grace's clothing from over by the cage display and
handed it to Amber. He turned to Grace and gave the boy's butt a
firm squeeze. "No kiss goodbye this time, baby, but I'll see you
soon."
  Grace smiled in response as they left the shop. Amber made him
walk to the car naked, but once inside she threw him his boxers.
"You need to cover yourself for the ride home, Grace. But now
that you have the cage to protect you, I don't want you wearing
underwear anymore. In fact, once we get back, I'd like you to get
rid of it.
  He assented with his silence. Amber's tone softened as she
merged onto the highway. "You know," she reflected, "I was pretty
pissed for at first that I couldn't record your experience with
Rick. But now I'm glad I didn't." Her hand rested on his thigh,
just above the knee. She turned briefly to catch his eye. "It
wouldn't have been right. I felt some magic in that room,
sweetie. Seeing your first time . . . the way it was supposed to
be. Knowing that I helped to you lose your virginity honestly and
openly: as a woman. It was a very special moment, and I'm honored
that you let me share in it."
  They drove in silence for a while. It wasn't long before her
curiosity won out, and Amber slid her hand up to explore the cock
cage. Grace felt comfortable enough to ask her about her weird
conversation with Rick. He expected to be shushed out of hand,
but to his surprise Amber was candid with him.
  "Rick can get hormones for you. Remember when I told you that
you need to stop focusing on your dick? Well this will go a long
way in helping with that. Hormones will help undo all that bad
training. They'll calm your bad urges, and they'll bring the real
you to the surface. Best of all, it's free!
  "You're gonna be getting two shots, three times a week. I will
drop you off at the store after school on Monday, Wednesday, and
Friday. Rick is giving you the injections free of charge. In
return, you're to obey him and let him play with you as much as
he wants until I come back to get you at eight o'clock." Her hand
moved from the cock cage back to his thigh. She gave him a rub.
"Don't be scared, Grace. This is a great deal for us. You're
getting the medicine you need for free, and you're getting tons
of great experience. Think of all the cool stuff Rick is gonna
teach you!"
  Grace smiled again, weakly. He was physically exhausted from
the long string of orgasms, and the abject humiliation had tapped
him out emotionally as well. He knew his life had changed
dramatically that night, but figured that he wouldn't be able to
really the magnitude until morning. The boy stretched out his
darling legs a little, then rested his head back and closed his
eyes with a trace of contentment, feeling oh so thoroughly used.
The smell of Rick's cum stayed with him. He idly licked the
sticky crust from around his mouth, but didn't dare eat any more.
He wasn't supposed to, and he needed to be good.
  Amber let her stepbrother put on the rest of his clothes before
they entered the house, but she respected Rick's kink and made
him leave the cum on his face. She found it deeply exciting - the
mask of dried semen was extremely noticeable, and it was a pretty
distinct look. The load had now dried enough to start flaking.
How would Valerie react to this?
  To Amber's bitter disappointment, Ms. Barre had turned in
early. On the other hand, it was exciting enough just to watch
Grace go through his bedtime routine, marked as he was. When
brushing his teeth, her stepbrother took such care not to disturb
his new makeup. It was painfully adorable, and her intuition
assured her it wasn't all a show. Grace was going to leave the
cum on his face overnight, she knew, simply because Rick had told
him to. The thought triggered a spasm of arousal. Amber was
juicing like crazy.
  Suddenly anxious to be alone and take care of herself, Amber
left Grace in his room. Halfway down the hall, the fleeting
impulse to bring her stepbrother in on the fun skipped through
her, but she buried it with authority. It just felt wrong; for
now at least.
  Besides, he needed to get some solid rest. They had an all-day
shopping trip ahead of them tomorrow.






To Be Continued in Chapter 4 - In Which Grace Dresses Up
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