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Majority Rules -12-14
by Blackdog
theblackdogs@aol.com
copyright 2004 by Blackdog, all rights reserved
* * * * *
This story is intended for ADULTS ONLY. It contains
explicit depictions of sexual activity involving minors. If
you are not of a legal age in your locality to view such
material or if such material does not appeal to you, do not
read further, and do not save this story.
* * * * *
Prologue
Like almost every young boy, Tim Waterman hated doing chores
around the house. But he had a special reason, or reasons,
for dreading it.
This summer day, for instance, the 13-year-old lad was
pushing the family's old-fashioned reel mower in the
backyard, cutting the grass. It wasn't so much the chore
that Tim minded, it was . . . well, imagine the scene
yourself.
Poor Tim was dressed only in a tiny jockstrap, one which
showed off his taut, muscular assglobes in back and drew
attention to the raging erection pushing out the front of
the elasticized pouch that contained his aroused penis and
tingling testicles.
Attached to the point where the bands that ran from across
his buns connected to the pouch was a vibrator that was
jammed four inches deep into Tim's hot, tight junior high
anus. And to make matters even worse, the buzzing plastic
rapist in his rectum was coated with a thin layer of
lubricant, into which had been sprinkled a little pepper. So
as Tim pushed his lawn mower, he was not only showing off
his nearly naked body (especially his throbbing boner) but
enduring the buzzing and itching deep in his teenage ass.
To add to the humiliation, the head of the neighbor lady,
Mrs. Canfield, a busty auburn-haired lady who Tim had
sometimes been less than polite to, appeared over the fence
that separated their yards.
"My, my, Tim, what's that you've got there sticking out?"
she teased. "And what's that humming noise? No matter; I
certainly like the way you're dressed! Ask your mother if
you can come over and do my yard work, too, when you finish
there."
"Yes, Missus Canfield," replied Tim, being careful to be
polite and respectful these days. He didn't dare be rude to
anyone, especially to females.
Tim's brown-haired cousin, Leslie, a tall confident girl
with long tanned legs and a promising 14-year-old bust,
walked into the back yard, holding a foot-long hot dog
slathered in mustard in a bun.
"Hi, Tim," said Leslie brightly, bouncing over to him in her
small bikini, her firm breasts bobbling teasingly in the
white swimsuit that also showed off much of the rest of her
charms.
"Hello, Miss Leslie," Tim said, trying not to be too obvious
about ogling his gorgeous cousin.
"Oh, how rude of me!" she said. "I forgot, you haven't had
lunch yet. Would you like a hot dog?"
Tim smiled; there hadn't been too much kindness extended to
him by the females in his life lately; maybe things were
changing. "Sure, that would be great!" he finally said.
"COOL!" Leslie chirped. Before Tim could react she stepped
behind him, pulled down the straps of his jockstrap, which
yanked out the vibrator from his clutching asshole. With a
giggle, she quickly slid the condiment-coated frankfurter
deep into his defenseless anus.
Leslie roared with laughter, as did Mrs. Canfield, as Tim
stood there with five inches of tube steak protruding from
his tailhole, and another seven inches lancing into his
rectum and colon.
"Look, Mrs. Canfield," said Leslie, pulling off the
jockstrap so that Tim was totally nude. She slapped his
swollen penis twice, causing the boy to wince. "He's got a
hot wiener in front AND in back."
Poor Tim blushed hotly. He was humiliated, uncomfortable,
achingly frustrated and without hope. More weeks of this
treatment stretched out in front of him. And he knew, deep
down, that he had brought it on himself.
Chapter One.
The Waterman family was small, and definitely had a strong
tilt toward the masculine. Elliot Waterman was a geologist
with an oil company, a man who had once been a driller
roughneck; he was an unique blend of crude and refined, just
like the petroleum that was his livelihood.
His wife, Katherine, was a well-educated, sophisticated
beautiful woman who put aside her career as a writer to be a
full-time wife and mother. Rounding out the family was Tim,
a rambunctious young boy just finishing seventh-grade in
school.
Between Elliot's dirty-fingernail background and Tim's
youthful exuberance, things sometimes got a little . . .
inelegant around the Waterman house. The two men made vulgar
jokes, snickered at the same sexy scenes in TV shows and
movies, and behaved like two spirited males sometimes do.
Tim, especially, was a handful. When his father was not
around, he often blithely ignored his mother's instructions
and admonitions. He left doors open, lights on, water
running and dropped his clothes, shoes and other flotsam
wherever he felt like. He belched prodigiously at the dinner
table, and often responded to the need to urinate by walking
into the backyard, hauling out his pisser and peeing right
there on the grass or -- to his mother's rising anger -- in
the flower bed.
Katherine's efforts to control her son's petty but annoying
transgressions were only successful when she could get her
husband to weigh in her side; more often than not, Elliot
would laugh off the latest report of Tim's antics by saying,
"Geez, Kate, I did that when I was a kid!"
When picking dinner, a movie to rent or attend, a vacation
spot, the two males always outvoted her. She wanted French
cuisine, she got hot dogs. She wanted to see a romantic
comedy, she got violent action films. She wanted to visit
museums, she ended up on camping trips.
"Hey, mom," Tim would say. "Sorry, but you know how it is.
Majority rules."
And so it does to this day. Only, unexpectedly, the
electorate changed.
The same week that school ended, Elliot came home and told
his family that he had been sent on a special assignment to
Scotland to make tests for what could become a large
oilfield there. He'd be gone six to eight weeks, but the
assignment carried a huge bonus and the possibility of a
major promotion.
"I have to take this job, honey," said Elliot. "Hey, just so
you and Tim don't get lonely, why don't you invite your
sister Becky and her kids to come visit for that time?
They'd love to come out here and it'd be like a vacation for
everybody."
Katherine was still a little steamed at her husband's plans,
but the more she thought of it, the more she liked it. Becky
was a no-nonsense kind of gal, with two spirited daughters,
Leslie, 14, and Donna, 12. Together maybe they could bring
Tim under some kind of control.
And they did. But not in the way that Katherine envisioned
at first.
Chapter Two.
The first sign that things were going to be different at the
Waterman household was when Tim returned home one afternoon
in late June after having played baseball with some friends
in the park. Between diving for baseballs in the green grass
and sliding along the clay-covered infield, Tim was a
smelly, dirty mess when he came cheerily back to his house.
As he walked up the steps to the front door he saw a neatly
printed sign: "Please come around side of house; carpet
being cleaned."
"Damn," said Tim. He really didn't want to take the long way
around to his room, so he didn't. He opened the door and
walked in, tramping dirt and mud and sweat all over . . .
what was this? Newspapers strewn in his path? What was going
on?
"Just as you predicted," said Katherine, as she walked up to
the flummoxed Tim. At her side was her sister Becky. "It's a
good thing we put those papers down, He just refuses to do
what's asked of him."
Becky grinned a feral smile that sent a shiver down Tim's
spine. "I guess the solution is to stop asking, and start
demanding," she said. She stepped forward and extended a
hand to the 13-year-old boy. "C'mon, Timmy, say hello to
your Aunt Becky."
Gingerly he stuck out a hand, which Becky, a sturdy 5-foot,
7-inches to Tim's skinny 5-foot, 6-inches, grasped tightly,
then abruptly used to twist the boy's arm painfully behind
his back. "OWWWWWW!!! OUCH!" cried Tim.
"Don't hurt him!" Katherine gasped while Tim was forced to
his knees. "I just want him to be a good boy!"
Becky grinned as she manipulated Tim's aching arm so he was
face down on the carpet. "Don't worry, Kate; if we stick
together and don't wimp out, he'll be a model son before the
summer is out."
The woman leaned down and put her mouth close to Tim's ear.
"If I let you up, do you promise to do whatever your mother
and I tell you, immediately, and without hesitation?"
The boy paused for a long second, so Becky put more pressure
on his arm. "OWTCHH!!!! God, yes, please, I will, I
promise!" he blurted.
Becky wasn't convinced, but she eased up a bit. "Remember
your promise, Tim," she said, and let go of his arm.
"Now, Tim," his mother said, patiently, "I want you to go
back out the front door and come in the side way like you
were supposed to."
His eyes flicked back and forth at the two women; he knew
that his father wouldn't put up with this. "I'm gonna go
call Dad!" he said, and darted around the corner to the
telephone on the stand by the stairs. Only he never got
there, because he abruptly tripped over a piece of rope that
had been stretched there as a precaution in case the young
teen turned out to be as willful as . . . well, as willful
as he was.
Tim crashed to the floor with an "Oooofffffffff" and was
briefly stunned by the impact. That was all Becky and a more
reluctant Katherine needed to slip cuffs over his wrists and
ankles.
Tim started to open his mouth, but Becky produced a knife
and brought its gleaming point to the tip of his nose. "Now,
Tim, think carefully; do you really want to sass me or
complain? Or do you just want to be a good boy for a while?"
The boy, terrified of what might be done to him while bound,
nodded mutely.
"We need to get these dirty clothes off him," said
Katherine. "But with his hands and ankles . . . "
"This is what the knife is for . . . partly," replied her
sister with a wicked smile "But we'll probably need some
help lifting him." She turned and walked halfway up the
stairs and shouted.
"Donna! Leslie! Come down right now! You can unpack later!
Aunt Kate and I need a hand with something kind of heavy .
. . and fun!"
In a moment the girls came clattering down the stairs.
Donna, a prematurely busty girl of 12, with gorgeous red
hair and freckles, just 5-foot, 1-inches tall, and Leslie,
the brunette with the long hair and the teasing smile. They
had been fathered by different men, but both shared their
mother's lack of awe for the male species in general.
Donna was dressed in a tight T-shirt that exhibited her
thrusting firm young breasts; Leslie had on a tank-top that
showed an appealing amount of cleavage. Both were dressed in
shorts that stopped just a few inches below "heaven."
"He's handcuffed!" said Leslie, a smile coming to her lips.
"This is going to be fun!"
Becky smiled. She loved her daughter's naughty spirits.
"I've got to cut his filthy clothes off . . . and dress him
in something nicer." She leaned over and whispered in both
girls' ears, and they giggled with delight. "Be right back,
mom!" said Donna. and the two girls pounded back upstairs.
The woman then turned to Tim. "Now, Tim, I'm going to cut
off these dirty clothes so you don't get any of this . . .
crud . . . on the carpet. If you wriggle and fidget, you
might get hurt . . . especially down here," she said,
pointing the knife at his crotch. "So you're going to just
relax and let us do our work, right? Right?"
Tim nodded. The knife, the cuffs and the strange look in
Becky's eye had the young boy cowed. It was easy enough to
buffalo his mom, but this was very different.
"Yes, ma'am," he said, croaking in his nervousness.
Using the knife and a scissors that Katherine had brought,
the two women quickly cut away his baseball jersey and
pants, leaving him in just his underwear. Becky pulled on
the waistband and prepared to slice into his last garment.
"Becky, his . . . briefs . . . don't have mud or dirt of
them. Maybe we could let him . . . " Katherine said,
haltingly. She really did want to see her son naked, but
didn't want to admit it.
"Nonsense," said Becky, the scissors chewing through the
garment. "We need a complete set of fresh clothing, like the
girls are bringing." In an instant, Tim was naked, his teen
cock and balls -- just adorned with a few hairs -- on
display for his mother and aunt to see.
"In fact, let's use this piece of material so that Tim won't
be too uncomfortable seeing us see him naked," said Becky.
She wound the fabric around his face, creating a blindfold.
"Don't worry, Tim, we'll take that off in a moment."
Donna and Leslie appeared then, holding Tim's new set of
clothes. "Good job, girls. Now help me get him up and
dressed."
"He's gonna look so cute in these," giggled Donna.
Chapter Three
Together, the four females hauled Tim to his feet and walked
him into his room, standing him against the wall. Still
blindfolded, all Tim could hear was a rustle of motion and a
series of whispers. After a minute of so, he felt hands
encircle his chest, and a garment of some kind was fastened
on.
One ankle at a time was released, and a second garment was
pulled up his legs and snugged into place around his groin.
The cuffs then went back around his ankles. Tim was pleased
to be no longer nude. After another minute or so, the
blindfold came off.
The first thing that the still-bound young boy saw was an
amazing, eye-popping sight. His two sexy cousins were
themselves nude. Leslie, the brunette, was standing there,
her legs spread, fingering her cleft. Donna, the redhead,
had her hands on her plump breasts, erect nipples between
her fingers, as if offering herself to Tim.
Tim didn't notice that off to one side Becky stood with a
digital camera, quickly snapping shots of the boy, and his
inevitable reaction. The image of the two pretty, naked
girls quickly pumped blood into the lad's adolescent penis,
and it filled, lifted and hardened. But something felt
strange, and Tim looked down . . . two inches of his four-
inch cock were protruding from the top of . . . what kind
of underwear were these????
The girls continued to strike sexy poses; Donna sucked
smuttily on her fingers, while Leslie turned around, bent
over and spread her firm asscheeks. Despite his distraction,
Tim felt his cock get harder and harder, and it seemed like
his underwear were far too small.
Breaking the erotic reverie was his aunt. "You look very
sexy in that outfit, Tim," she said, and Katherine herself
turned red and blushed and grinned. "Just what I had in
mind."
Tim looked down and saw that he was dressed in a frilly pink
bra, and a pair of tiny thong panties with a cute bow. His
straining teenboy cock had pushed out of the top and was
throbbing obscenely over the silk hem.
"What!!????" gasped the boy, stunned and humiliated as Becky
snapped off more shots from different angles.
"That's not all," she said. "Look at the sign behind your
head."
Tim craned his neck around and, sure enough, there was a
sign with the lettering: "Hi! I'm Tim Waterman, the biggest
sissy-fairy in town. For a good time, call 555-5151."
The boy blushed beet red and started to sputter out his
protests. "You can't. . . this is . . . Mom!! Help me!"
"You brought this on yourself," said Katherine. "I'm tired
of the way you just ignore what I say when your dad's not
around."
The girls were putting on their robes as Becky explained the
situation. "Here's the way it is. I've got 30 or so really
nice images of you in girl's frilly underwear with your
nasty boner sticking out. I've framed the shots so the
restraints aren't visible, but the sign and other background
details of your room are.
"I can quickly e-mail this file to all your little friends
on your seventh-grade classroom list, using an anonymous
service. I'm sure they will all get a kick out of these
pictures, and it will make for a charming topic of
conversation all summer and especially next fall when you
enter eighth grade.
"Or, you can agree to submit entirely, absolutely,
instantly, abjectly to the authority of the females in this
house. Whatever they say -- and by this, I mean Donna and
Leslie, too -- to do, you do it, and damn quick! I don't
care if they ask you to eat raw liver while you stand naked
on the roof at high noon -- you do it! Otherwise, the
pictures go out. Do we have a deal?"
Tim was miserable, but he wasn't stupid. He knew he was
caught in a trap. He nodded.
"Not good enough," Becky said. "Say it out loud.
Specifically."
Tim raised his face. "I promise to obey every female in the
house, no matter what they say for me to do," he said. "No
matter what."
"Excellent," said Becky. "Katherine, I think your son is
going to be a fine boy by the time this summer is up."
"It's not fair," mumbled Tim.
"Ah, but we have you outnumbered, Tim." his mother said.
"And you know the saying: 'majority rules'."
Chapter Four
Two weeks into the summer and it's a whole new world for Tim
and the rest of the extended Waterman family. They say you
can get used to just about anything, and that was certainly
the case for poor Tim.
His Aunt Becky was the clever one, devising punishments and
humiliations to keep him in line. But his mother quickly
warmed to the idea, and his cousins were positively devilish
in their enthusiasm for tormenting the poor boy.
For instance, it's a Monday morning. Tim awakes with his
usual morning hard-on, but there's no help for it. A cock
ring is cinched tight around the base of his throbbing four-
inch stiff, and another band has been looped around his
plump cum-filled balls. As he comes out of his sleepiness,
he remembers what's been done to him.
The door has been removed from his room and his bathroom.
His shower curtain is transparent, and he is nude, all the
time, all day, when in the house. He is really nude; all his
body hair (not that he had that much of it) has been
removed, from his pubic area, armpits, even between the
cheeks of his firm little butt.
He has to piss, which is a very difficult and messy process
when you've got a steel-hard boner tapping against your
belly. The best you can hope for is to be able to pee in
the shower, and not mind it when your urine squirts sourly
against your chest.
It's 6:30 a.m., and Tim knows he has to be showered and
ready to face the day by 7 a.m. He rolls out of bed and
gingerly walks to the bathroom, his swollen teenboy cock
bobbing and his tender balls sloshing between his tanned
thighs. He hasn't squirted off in almost a week, which is
agonizing since he is not only a horny 13-year-old boy used
to jacking off three or four times daily, but also a healthy
male who has been unmercifully teased and stimulated almost
all of his waking day.
He is just about to step into the shower and try to squeeze
some backed-up piss through his twitching erection when into
the bathroom bounces his redheaded cousin Donna. She's
dressed in a tiny green bikini that barely covers her
hairless girlcleft and the perky nipples of her large
preteen breasts.
"Hi, Timmy," says Donna, wiggling her torso so that her
boobs jiggled even more. Tim feels his poor denied dick
twitch up a notch. "Just wanted to show you my new bathing
suit. Do you like it?"
The boy nods. "Very nice, Miss Donna."
"I'm worried that it might be too see-through in the water,
though," she says. "Hey, let's take a shower together and
see if that's true!" She throws open the shower curtain,
turns on the water and leads Tim by his hand into the stall.
"C'mon!"
And, of course, Donna is right. The pale green of the suit
turns practically transparent when soaked with water. All of
the pretty young redhead's charms, including the red,
swollen fingers of her suckable nipples and the pouting
vertical slash of her seventh-grade cleft, are now visible
to the helpless boy.
"Well, I can't wear this to the beach," Donna says. "Unless
I want to get raped. Unless I want some horny teenage boy to
yank down my little panties and bury his hot bone balls-deep
into my tight, hot little schoolgirl pussy," she says,
reciting the teasing words her mother had coached her on.
"Unless I want that fat cock to squirt load after big load
deep into my sucking cunt."
Tim is moaning now with frustration. His young cock is
getting fatter and hotter, and his balls ache with pent-up
sperm. The rings around his organs squeeze him
uncomfortably, and the pee in his bladder that wants to be
decanted is trapped in there as long as Donna continues her
tease-and-deny act.
Donna giggles as she watches Tim stand there frozen with the
powerful sexual need in his body, but conditioned to do
nothing that could be construed as disrespectful to the
women in the house. "As long as I'm in here, maybe I can
help you wash," she says.
With that, she soaps up her hands and starts to run them
all over Tim's body; across his shoulders, down his chest,
over his stomach and finally to his upthrust 13-year-old
cock with the purple tip and the bright red shaft.
"Timmy's such a sexy boy," she says, teasing her small
fingers all over his twitching organ and down to his
restrained balls. She cups his sensitive nuts and squeezes
them lightly, which makes him jump and twitch. "Boy, your
balls sure are full. Bet you'd love to empty them, huh?"
The youth says nothing. There were two ways he could do
that, and both of them were so humiliating he hated the very
thought of them. So he just grits his teeth while Donna
strokes his poor tormented cock and balls and then runs her
hands between his thighs and back up to his butt.
"Gotta make sure you are nice and clean back here," she
says, peeling his taut asscheeks open. "Gotta scrub your
nasty boyhole real good," she adds, pressing two fingers
against his anus and making a firm, circular motion. The
sensation of having his tailhole rubbed makes his cock
twitch up another little bit. His member really jerks when
he feels Donna push her index finger palm deep into his
rear.
Tim writhes in sweet agony as Donna twists one, then two
fingers in his rear, massaging his inner ass with teasing
and tickling strokes. With the other hand she applies
feather-light caresses to his supersensitive balls and cock.
"Do you like the way Cousin Donna washes your body?" she
purrs. "Do you?"
"Yes, Miss Donna," groans Tim, his body shaking as she rapes
him front and rear, making his blue balls ache more deeply
as she teases and teases and teases . . . .
Chapter Five
The ladies of the Waterman house had quickly established a
rather brisk routine. Tim was, of course, always naked
inside the house. He usually wore only a tiny jockstrap when
outside in the yard; he even went out front dressed that way
when he brought the trash cans to the front of the house in
the early morning hours of refuse pickup day.
Sometimes he wore the cockring and ball cinch; sometimes he
walked around with a dildo or vibrator snugged deeply into
his tight 13-year-old asshole; lately the ladies had favored
a buttplug. In any case, the youth went around all day long
with a twitching, jerking, rock-hard erection.
He was put to work doing every menial task the ladies could
think of. He washed clothes, mopped floors, scoured out the
toilet and the sinks. As he kneeled to scrub the floors, his
cousins would sport with him like he was some kind of dumb
pet; they rode his back and pinched his bottom and even
flicked their fingers stingingly against his bobbing boner
and supersensitive balls.
To tease him even further, the women took to wearing more
and more daring clothing. The girls started it, wearing
either tight T-shirts that showed off their tingling hard
nipples, or low-cut blouses that revealed much of their
fresh, firm cleavage. Before long, they all began lounging
around in see-through lingerie that left little to the
imagination.
The agonies of arousal and teasing drove Tim to the breaking
point. "Please, ma'am, Aunt Becky," said a miserable Tim one
day. "I've just got to . . . you know. My balls ache all the
time. My dick is so hard it hurts like just awful. Please,
just let me cum one time! I'll do anything!"
Katherine and Becky had discussed this eventuality before.
Both women were getting a tremendous thrill out of Tim's
discomfort. The truth was that his lean, clean teenage body
was darned appealing, and the sight of his rock-stiff cock
and bulging testicles was already driving them to furious
masturbation late at night. The chance to see him spurting
off, to see his huge boy-balls pucker and pump out what had
to be a huge gusher of hot male-milk intrigued them both.
But it wouldn't do to simply let him haul out his formidable
pisser and stroke himself off to a hugely satisfying
ejaculation; no, the element of discipline and humiliation
had to be present. So the ladies consulted and offered Tim a
choice.
"OK, Tim," replied Aunt Becky. "We'll let you have your
precious orgasm. But not on your terms; we set the
parameters and the conditions. We'll let you choose between
two alternatives. The first one is this: you get on the
carpet and lean back on your shoulders. Bring your legs up
and forward, so that your nasty penis is pointed right at
your face. Then you raise your head and lower your crotch
until you put your penis in your own mouth. From there, you
can suck yourself off, provided you swallow all your cum
down and don't miss a drop."
Tim blanched at this thought. "What's . . . what's the
other choice?" he asked, softly.
"Your mother and I went out yesterday and bought some
wonderful new toys," she said. His mother, blushing hotly,
held up one of them -- a strap-on dildo harness with a big
black plastic phallus protruding obscenely from the front.
"We've got one for each one of us. Your second choice is to
be butt-fucked by each lady in the house. You can squirt off
all you want, but we will be raping your asshole for at
least an hour. Oh, and one more thing . . . we're gonna do
it in the backyard. If any of the nice neighbor ladies want
to take a turn, we're just have to let them, out of
courtesy."
Tim's mother moved forward and gently caressed her son's
hair, then dropped her hand to his pulsing, throbbing
erection. "Which is it, honey? I know you've got a gallon of
hot boy-cum in there and you're just desperate to shoot it
out."
The boy let out a big sigh. Both choices were awful. But he
was being driven mad by the pressure in his aching groin. "I
guess the backyard," he finally said.
It turned out to be great fun for the girls and great and
terrible humiliation for the boy. He was on his hands and
knees on the grass of the backyard -- grass he had mowed
that same morning, wearing only that damned jockstrap --
while the women, giggling and tittering, pulled on their
strap-ons over small bikini swimsuits. Through the agony of
his need and embarrassment, Tim noted that his mother looked
especially gorgeous. The thought of getting a chance to put
his cock in her -- instead of the other way around -- sent
a wave of erotic desire washing through his body, the effect
of which was to make his poor tormented sex organs throb and
ache all the more.
Becky had him first; she kneeled behind and slid the fake
cock -- coated with baby oil -- several inches into Tim's
asshole. She stroked in and out several times, smiling to
hear the boy grunt and breathe heavily. Katherine reached
down and undid the cockring and ball cinch, and in
departing, gave her son's twitching sex tackle a teasing
caress.
The aunt then started really punching it into poor Tim's
ass. Teeth grit, the boy endured his rape, especially since
the sawing of the plastic phallus in his anus was pushing
him towards the release he so desperately needed. "Take it,
boy!" chanted Becky. "Take my big black lady cock up your
tight little shitter! You love it, don't you?"
It didn't take long for Tim to cry out and arch his back and
start to spurt. Long, thick streams of steaming boy-cum
pissed hotly out of his gaping piss-slit, and you could
almost see his balls pump as the hot semen arced from his
purple cockhead onto the grass. The feeling was so
overwhelming that Tim was struck dumb and blind for a long
moment; the only thing he could detect was the engulfing
relief of emptying his congested nuts and easing the
pressure in his poor rigid penis.
But once the feeling of squirting off faded, the discomfort
of being butt-raped out in the open returned. Aunt Becky
kept stroking deeply into his shitter, and to Tim's
surprise, his cock had softened very little, if at all. In
another minute of having his shitter pounded, the boy felt
that sensation return and his cock and balls again exploded
and shot thick puddles of semen onto the back lawn.
Panting and wrung out, Tim was glad to see and feel the cock
withdraw from his ass. It wasn't but a few seconds before he
was sodomized again; now his mother moved behind him and
fitted the phallus against his ravaged anus. She not only
fucked his ass deeply, but she reached around and stroked
his cock with her hand. The result was that Tim shortly was
grunting and spasming through a third climax.
Katherine soon fucked and jacked Tim to a fourth orgasm,
although this one was weaker and with less cum. Leslie took
over and raped his asshole powerfully, forcing one wet and
one dry cum from the boy, who was now begging to be let
alone. The females laughed at him and he was openly crying
and sobbing when Donna used an eight-inch phallus on his
poor, chafed butthole, and her teasing hands helped coax two
more uncomfortable, almost painful dry cums from his
tormented balls.
Finally exhausted by his climaxes, Tim collapsed onto the
lawn, almost unconscious. He gave no resistance as the women
staked him out on the grass, arms spread wide, legs spread
and raised, his ankles secured with cords anchored to the
sturdy limbs of a backyard tree. A cock ring was back
snugly around his penis, which was amazingly still half-hard
after all that abuse and use.
Chapter Six
The boy was left out there, helpless, immobilized and on
display for half an hour while the women disappeared into
the house. When they emerged, they were giggling and
whispering; even Tim's mother had a naughty look on her
face.
"We've decided that you didn't have to do much to get your
delicious orgasms, so we concluded that part of you, anyway,
needed some exercise," said Aunt Becky. She leaned down and
wrapped a black blindfold around Tim's eyes, making sure it
was good and tight.
Then there was a rustle of clothing, and in another moment,
the startled Tim felt a body hover over his head, and then
his face become engulfed in the amazing scent and softness
of a naked female's most intimate charms.
"Eat me, little boy," commanded Aunt Becky. "Eat out my
pussy and my asshole, and do a good job or . . . well, you
know how cranky I can get. Just use that wicked tongue of
yours like your life depended on it."
She settled over his face, kneeled astride his mouth, her
silky thighs caressing his cheeks. She faced his throbbing
13-year-old cock, and secretly wondered how THAT would feel
in her needy cunt.
Tim didn't know much about cunnilingus, but he did know he'd
better do a good job, so he busily went to work licking and
sucking his aunt's cuntlips, clit and humid anus. She
wriggled around in delight, and muttered "Good boy!" as his
tongue struck just the right spots in just the right way.
The taste of the woman's intimate parts send fresh pulses of
blood into the boy's already hard erection; he could feel it
get thicker and fatter and longer, even within the
restraints of the ring around his maleness. The sensation of
being used, of being spread open and exhibited to the world
like this was both humiliating to the boy, but a little bit
exciting, too.
Becky groaned and bucked her way through a powerful and wet
orgasm under Tim's frantic ministrations; her juices coated
his face. Shakily, she climbed off the boy and her place was
taken by another female. From that point forward, the ladies
didn't say a word; just sat on his face and mashed their
pussies and asses down so he could pleasure them. He wasn't
sure just who was who, or even if all four females had
ridden his mouth, although the idea that he probably had
sent his own mother into a sobbing climax with his tongue
excited the boy.
Finally, the blindfold was taken off and he was untied.
Rubbing his ankles and wrists, Tim silently went back to his
"routine" of being the naked, aroused servant and whipping
boy of the Waterman family.
Chapter Seven
The teasing of the women again got to Tim. The sight of all
that exquisite girl- and woman-flesh jiggling around in
transparent negligees and sometimes less made Tim's balls
ache anew, and the news -- via phone call to Katherine --
that his dad was going to be staying another month overseas
drove the poor boy to desperation.
Just three days after the women had sodomized him and used
his mouth for their pleasure, he went to his mother and
asked for another orgasm. He was willing to try to suck
himself off.
All four females gathered in the living room to watch; they
had a video camera and the digital still camera as well,
planning to add to the potential for blackmailing Tim into
being their compliant slave. Being young and limber, he was
able to assume the position. Bent over with his twitching
penis pointed down to his mouth, he nearly was able to
capture the tip of his leaking cock with his lips.
Almost, but not quite. The girls were giggling and the women
smiling at the picture of the young boy desperately trying
to fellate himself. His lunges with his head to reach his
straining cock just led to more frustration.
"Here, let me help," said Leslie. She went to his side and
grabbed one leg and pushed down on it, and was quickly
joined by Donna. Their pressure allowed Tim's now-aching
back to bow enough so that his penis slid into his mouth.
The more they pushed, the deeper it went, and the boy
suckled feverishly at his own purple cock-tip.
After a minute or so of self-fellatio, the girls got an
idea. Each one of them stuck out a thumb, pressed them
together, and pushed their digits into Tim's asshole. He
grunted as he felt the sudden invasion of his anus, and his
jerky reaction caused his penis to pop out of his mouth. The
pressure of their thumbs in his tailhole triggered a
physical reaction, and a moment later the up-side-down youth
was squirting a thick, heavy load of his hot semen all over
his face. A few squirts landed in his open mouth, but most
of the wet-pasty stuff sprayed into his eyes, up his nose
and elsewhere.
The females roared their approval as the thumb-raping of the
boy made him coat his own miserable face with his slippery
goo. The girls held his legs up and tightly stroked his
squirting cock to make sure that every embarrassing drop of
his cum landed on his face and neck.
That was the last time Tim asked for that version of relief.
The strap-ons were awful, but at least he didn't have to
feel like a cum-dump for his own sperm.
The women knew that a horny and teased boy like Tim could
only go a few days without needing to empty his balls. So
they concocted increasingly exotic and degrading ways for
him to do it. The first time was a bit of a lawn party. The
women invited all the middle- and elderly ladies on the
street to watch Tim's "relief session," and they were
thrilled to see the naked boy with the twitching, bound, red
boner on his hands and knees.
Having not seen a youthful stiffy in years, the women wanted
to feel it, heft it, stroke it and otherwise touch it. They
pulled open his asscheeks wide to see how cute his tight
pink-brown pucker was, and not a few rubbed and outright
fingered it, their bony or plump digits penetrating his anus
and wiggling around.
They stroked the inside of his thighs, tickled his nipples
and pinched his bottom-cheeks.
"I know it's wicked," said one 60-something lady with gray
hair, "but I haven't seen a cock that red and hard in
decades. Sure wonder what it would feel like to have another
one in me."
Aunt Becky grinned. "Well, why not? Let's turn him over on
his back and you can all have a ride. His cock is still
cinched tight, so it'll stay rock-hard without spurting any
of his nasty sperm inside you."
And that was how poor Tim turned into a living dildo for all
the lonely, horny older ladies on the street. He was staked
out face up on the backyard lawn, a vibrating butt plug in
his rectum, his arms and legs splayed wide. The women, who
ranged from fit and pretty to old and chubby, mounted him
and slammed their needy pussies up and down on Tim's
upthrust, steel-hard penis. Some of the women were so sexy
and tight that it was agonizing denial to not be able to
squirt his superheated sperm up out of his tortured, aching
balls. Some of the women, well, good thing for the cockring.
The plastic device kept him hard and throbbing when he might
otherwise have not been very aroused.
They dangled their breasts in his face and made him suckle
their nipples; they hopped off his jerking cock and sat on
his face, moaning and cackling while he licked out their
lower holes. Most of the women had noisy, moaning climaxes
when mounted on his cock or tongue. One especially large
lady almost smothered Tim as she rode him, and Tim nearly
blacked out when she straddled his face and bade him lick
her steamy, wet cunt.
The sated women them watched as the Waterman ladies placed
Tim back on his hands and knees, untied his cock and put on
their strap-ons. They were delighted at the way the females
raped the poor male's asshole, and made him spurt, long,
thick, heavy shots of his sperm yards across the lawn. Two
of the women even asked if they could join in, and they did,
so Tim was sodomized by six ladies, and shot off steaming
squirts of sperm every time.
Chapter Eight
The "mature ladies" party was such a success that the
Waterman women decided to try the other end of the scale.
One of the women who had ridden Tim's iron bar of an
adolescent cock and climaxed exquisitely on it, Krissy, was
the leader of the girls youth group that needed an activity
that would qualify for their "Exploring Nature" badge. Since
one of the girls was having a birthday -- turning 9 -- they
decided to combine the educational with the celebratory.
Tim was again staked out naked on his back in the backyard,
his cock cinched, his legs spread and raised. Only this time
his legs were pushed forward and a cord around his cocktip
pulled his pulsing, swollen penis in the opposite direction
so that it pointed straight at the summer sky.
The guests were a bunch of girls ages 8-10, who arrived
giggling and laughing in wet swimsuits. The first part of
this birthday party was a swimfest, and the dozen girls were
full of high spirits when they came skipping into the
Waterman backyard. When they caught sight of a "big boy"
naked, hard and splayed open like that, they stopped short
and an awed hush came over the group.
Krissy, the tanned athletic 30-something blonde who was
leading the group, chuckled. "You girls! Haven't you ever
seen a boy's thing all hard and sticking up?" They all shyly
shook their heads.
The woman gave them a skeptical look. "Right. So none of you
have ever seen your older brothers with a stiffy? Not ever?
Tell the truth." A few shy looks, and one hand, then
another, then another hand went up. A titter of giggles ran
through the group when six of the little girls eventually
raised their hands.
"That's more like it. And how many have seen your daddy with
a big old stiffy?" Three hands went up including Krissy's 9-
year-old daughter Carin. "When did you ever see daddy with a
boner?" Krissy asked, and Carin turned beet-red and lowered
her face. "Never mind, we'll discuss that later."
Krissy motioned the girls forward and had them stand around
Tim. "For our nature exploration, we're going to look at an
adolescent boy. We're lucky that this one is tame -- sort of
-- and in the mood to show off how a boy's body works."
She reached with a finger and traced it along parts of his
body. "As you can see, young Tim here has an erection --
also known as a stiffy, a boner, a hard-on. It happens when
a boy sees something sexy . . . the blood rushes into his
penis and causes it to stand up. When a male with an
erection puts it in a female's vagina -- that's that slit
between your legs -- he can shoot out some white stuff
called semen, and that's how babies are made. Any
questions?"
"Why is his thingie tied up like that?"
Aunt Becky broke in. "He's being punished for being a bad
boy. Would you like to see him punished some more?" she
said. The girls all squealed in delight. "Yeah! Yeah!" they
cried.
Becky handed out switches, thin branches cut from one of the
backyard trees. "Go ahead and hit him; aim for this butt and
balls and cock. Hit him as hard as you can so he feels
really punished!" That last part didn't worry Tim too much;
how hard could these little girls hit?
Tim soon learned. Some of the girls indeed did have a
pathetic swing, but others nailed him sharply right on his
nuts or on his quivering cock. His cries of "Ouch! OWWW!
OWWWTCH!!!!!!" just made them giggle and try harder.
Luckily Krissy intervened before the girls could get too
carried away. "You'll get a chance to punish the nasty boy
more later, girls," she said. "Now we'll continue with our
exploration."
She grabbed his cock, recently smarting from a direct hit,
and stroked it up and down. "Boys' cocks are very sensitive.
When they get hard like this, they want to have them be
rubbed so they can shoot out that white stuff. Line up,
girls. I want each of you to feel this boy's hard cock in
your hands and stroke it a few times. Don't worry, it won't
bite."
One of the girls raised her hand. "Is we rub his thingie
like that, won't it squirt that white stuff?"
Krissy smiled. "Well, normally it would, but he's got a
tight ring around his cock at the base here; that keeps any
sperm from coming out. Go on, each girl stroke him up and
down 10 times."
Tim was soon writhing in agony. A dozen preteen cuties, all
of them in tiny damp bathing suits, putting their tight
little fists around his aching cock and stroking him. The
urge to ejaculate was rising in him, but he knew he
couldn't; if the cum bolted out of his balls, it would just
be forced painfully back down by the ring. All he could do
is moan in frustration as they jacked on his vulgarly
displayed erection.
When that was done, Krissy cupped his swollen, achy, cum-
crammed balls. "Boys and men make their sperm in here. It's
hot and slippery and when it shoots out it's real forceful.
Some boys can shoot like 10 feet or more with their juices.
It's fun to watch."
"Can we see him shoot out his stuff?" asked one little girl.
Other echoed her idea.
"We'll see," said Krissy. "Now all of you feel his balls.
Don't they feel plump and full of his hot sperm? He must
have a pint of his nasty semen clogged up in his poor
frustrated balls. Everybody cup them and give them a little
squeeze."
After 12 squeezes -- some gentle, some not -- attention
turned to the boy's butt. Krissy ran a hand over his
freshly-spanked buns, even digging in her nails for a bit to
watch him wince and twist a little in his bonds. "Boys have
firmer, more muscular butts than most girls. That's why when
they're spanked, you have to spank them harder and longer
than girls to get the same effect," she said, and then
demonstrated by slashing him 10 times across his defenseless
buttocks, eliciting cries and moans from Tim.
"Between their tight buns is the anus, also known as the
butthole, asshole, tailhole, shitter. Boys don't like to
admit it, but their anuses are realllllyyy sensitive and
it's very exciting to them to have something stuck in their
snug little poopers. Now, don't worry; he's very clean. I
want each of you to stick a finger in his anus and play with
it for a bit. It'll be very interesting."
Some of the girls were squeamish about putting their fingers
up a boy's back hole. But after a few of the girls tried it
and loved the way their actions made Tim gnash his teeth and
struggle in his bonds, they all had to try it. Some of them
accidentally found his prostate gland and teased it -- and
Tim -- within an inch of erotic madness.
The tour concluded with each girl tickling Tim's belly
button and suckling on his hard brown nipples. The girls
were all beaming; not a few of them looked aroused, despite
their young age.
"You all did very well," said Krissy. "Now we're going to
have the birthday party. But so you don't get stains on your
pretty swimsuits, why don't you all just skin out of them
and we'll have our celebration in our birthday suits."
The sound of that struck Tim's ears with a great deal of
ambivalence. The mental image of a dozen naked young girls
sporting around him made his blood warm, but the phrase
"birthday party" also had some vague unpleasant
connotations. Wasn't there a game called "pin the tail on
the donkey"? He started to imagine blindfolded preteen girls
using his tight asscheeks for a pincushion.
Things were extreme enough all ready. Here he was, stark
naked, trussed up and displayed with his legs wide open, his
incredibly hard 13-year-old cock pulled toward the sky, his
semen-bloated balls and quivering anus vulnerable to any
careless or malicious act these females might perpetrate on
him.
In another minute all the girls were naked and gathered
around Tim; they decided to use him as their table. But
first off, there was the birthday cake. Giggling as her own
inventiveness, she took a can of whipped cream and squirted
it all around Tim's flat stomach, covering also his groin,
including mountains of sugary fluff on his balls and penis.
More cream trailed down between his legs to his anus. Soon
he was one creamy, sticky mess from navel to tailbone.
Additional squirts were applied to his nipples, his mouth
and even his armpits.
"Now, all we need is the candles. Don't know that we can
find room for nine candles, and but I know we can find room
for two," said Krissy. With that, she produced two candles,
one a long dinner-style candle and the other a small,
birthday-cake size. She took the longer one and inserted it
in Tim's anus, rotating it a few times so that it penetrated
four or five inches into his rectum, leaving another six
inches showing above.
The second narrow one was inserted into the piss-slit of his
upthrust penis, tied so that it pointed straight up. It was
this insertion that caused Tim to panic when he realized
that birthday candles get lit!
"No, god no!" he yelped. "Not in there! What if you burn my-
-" His words were cut off my Aunt Becky, who quickly
produced a handful of switches, and gave him 10 quick, sharp
blasts to his backside.
"If you lie still and shut up, you won't get your precious
little prick hurt," she cautioned him. "But if you scream
and thrash around, there's no telling what might happen.
Accidentally, of course."
So Tim shut up, sweating and tensed as the candles in his
asshole and peehole were lit. The girls than began an
agonizingly slow version of "Happy Birthday to You" as the
helpless boy watched the flames burn down toward his anus
and cockhead.
Finally, the birthday girl, a cute little honey-blonde girl
named Amy, leaned over and blew out the candle in his cock,
then scooted over and blew out the one in his anus. But to
Tim's surprise, she didn't remove them. "They look so cute
where they are," she said.
"Good idea!" said Krissy. "And later we can relight them if
we want!"
While Tim was considering that awful possibility, the girls
started to eat the whipped cream off his body. A dozen
delighted young moppets put their clever pink lickers to
work on his teenage body. Slippery pink tongues slurped the
sweet stuff from his erect nipples, taut stomach and
muscular thighs. But they also lapped at the cream that
coated his throbbing, engorged cock, in his humid, nasty
anus, and all around his juicy plumb balls. The feeling of
all those female mouths on his helpless naked body was
sending Tim into a rictus of frustration. Tears were
starting to squeeze out of his eyelids; he was in erotic
agony.
Finally, Aunt Becky --who had watched all this with a smile
-- stepped in. "Say, how would you girls like to see Timmy
here shoot some cream out of that big red hard thing between
his legs?" The nymphets chorused their approval. They wanted
to see the writhing youth spout off.
"Amy, since you are the birthday girl, would you like to
make the nasty boy make some milk?" asked Becky. The little
girl nodded enthusiastically.
"OK, here's what you do. See that plastic tied around his
thingie? Take it off, honey. That's right. And take that
candle out of his peehole. Then just sit between his legs
and reach down and take his thingie in your hand. Make a
nice tight, grip, and stroke up and down . . . . that's
right . . .up and down!"
The other girls were fascinated by the spectacle. It wasn't
a minute into Amy's manipulations that Tim arched his back,
gave out a feral groan and fired a huge, hot load of his
semen up from his boiling prostate and testicles, out his
straining cocktube and out the tip, the wet mass rocketing
over his head to land several feet past on the grass.
"Wow! Cool!" chorused the girls. Amy kept pumping, and more
powerful jets of steaming male milk squirted out, this
second wave landing just beyond his head.
"My turn! My turn!" the girls yelled, and quickly they lined
up to pump the hot stuff out of the helpless boy. The naked
little girls, supplementing their hand-stroking with
tickling and poking his balls, cock and anus led Tim through
six spectacular orgasms. The ground around him was soaked
with his sperm, and he'd also shot off a small lake of his
cum onto his face, chest and neck.
Tim was delirious with relief; his cum-locked nuts were
finally able to clear some of the semen which had made them
throb so painfully. The fact that a dozen little girls had
raped his helpless nude body of all those cums was
embarrassing especially when his lust abated a little bit
and he saw them giggling and pointing at his cum-smeared
body.
"That was fun!" chirped one little girl. "Can I have him do
that at my birthday party next month?" she asked.
"Why, of course," said Aunt Becky. "Any of you who need to
borrow Tim for some entertainment can do so anytime you
want."
Chapter Nine
As the summer drew on, Katherine and Becky became both more
creative and more thoughtful in their program of reforming
the formerly thoughtless Tim. They rented him out to girls'
and women's parties -- like a clown or an juggler would be
rented -- but his duties were to be sexually exhibited,
humiliated, used and punished.
To keep some degree of anonymity, Tim was almost always
blindfolded, but the rest of his body was uncovered. He was
subjected to a staggering array of shameful degradations.
Not only the usual activities --- being sodomized with
strap-ons, tied up and teased with his cock and balls bound,
being forced to eat the moist and humid pussies and asses of
dozens of females from grade school to senior citizenship,
being spanked on his butt, inner thighs, anus and testicles
-- were conducted, but the females were always devising new
ways to show Tim how powerless he truly was.
One hot summer day they had an especially devilish idea. Tim
usually wore at least a tiny jockstrap when working in the
yard, which left him with a very sexy tanline that was a
creamy swath around his hairless cock and balls. One day
they made him do several hours of yard work totally naked.
The result was a mild sunburn on his genitals, which turned
into a teeth-grinding ordeal when the Waterman women all
took turns hopping on his oh-so-sensitive cock, riding him
for their own leisurely orgasms while the trussed-up boy
with the burning dick had to endure. After they all got
their climaxes, they took pity on him and rubbed soothing
cream on his dick, but very slowly and teasingly, and he was
not allowed to squirt.
Young girls and old ladies loved to see him cum; he was made
to masturbate repeatedly at some shows, and was punished
harshly when unable to maintain an erection after -- usually
-- seven or eight orgasms. Those groups preferred the cum
shows because they had either never yet seen a boy squirt,
or hadn't seen it in many years.
"Soccer mom" types preferred to see him teased and denied;
they loved seeing him grunt and grit his teeth as his
jerking, swollen cock was stimulated and not allowed to
spurt. The presence in their own homes of growing young boys
with their own penises hanging between their legs somehow
made Tim's agonized sexual bondage more appealing; many a
woman attending one of these parties began -- consciously or
unconsciously -- teasing their young sons with tighter, more
revealing clothing and "accidental" dropping of towels and
opening of robes. Barging in on young boys when they were in
the bathroom or in their rooms with the doors closed was
especially prized, especially if they could catch the boy
with an erection or in the middle of masturbation.
The Waterman women, being basically sexy ladies, made more
and more sexual use of the boy, under the cover of
"discipline" and punishment for past offenses. To teach him
"self-control," the sisters would put a vibrator up Tim's
anus, cinch up his cock and balls and climb on top of him.
Busty red-headed Donna, and long-limbed Leslie would take
turns riding him while naked, rubbing their firm, swollen
tits and nipples against his chest and tightening their
silky pussies around his helplessly stiff erection. They
would chat with each other as they did this, never speaking
to Tim; treating him as if he was merely a piece of
furniture they used for their amusement.
Becky and Katherine took long baths in which Tim -- his
restrained genitals throbbing and bobbing -- had to be the
attendant. He soaped up their naked, lush bodies and washed
every orifice both with his hands and -- when required --
with his mouth. Many was the time when Kate was on her hands
and knees, moaning and writhing with the superfrustrated
young boy crouched behind her, pushing his now-experienced
tongue deeply into his own mother's thrilled cunt.
When Tim was pushed to a level of sexual arousal so strong
that the aching in his groin almost incapacitated him, the
women came up with clever responses. They found a rubberized
bathing suit and made Tim pull it on; into the suit they
poured ice cold water. The suit's legholes were so snug that
little dripped out; the poor boy's hot nuts and denied boner
did get a soothing "cold shower," but after a short while
the chilly water brought a different kind of discomfort, and
the boy was begging to be allowed to pull down his pants and
release his sexual organs from their frigid prison.
As June turned into July and August neared, it was decided
that the program should include an educational component.
Becky got a hold of copies of the eighth-grade curriculum
and textbooks for classes that Tim would be taking in the
fall, and started to "drill" him in English, math, history,
science, etc.
The instruction took place under somewhat unconventional
circumstances. The naked youth was positioned on a hard-
backed chair with a vibrator jammed five inches up his anus
and rectum. The vibrator had a long cord attached to a
control device held by his "tutor." As usual, a cock ring
was snugged around his perpetual erection, and the female
attending him was dressed to arouse -- if she was dressed at
all.
If Tim answered a question correctly, he would not be
punished. If he answered incorrectly, the tutor would turn
up the vibration speed on the device raping his asshole, and
he would quiver with stimulation checked by frustration.
Failing a quiz meant five sharp hand slaps on his wiggling
boner. Failing a review of material he had already
"mastered" brought 10 sharp strokes on his wide-spread anus
with a leather thong.
Successfully completing the course laid out for him meant he
would be allowed to relieve the ache in his nuts. He would
stand up in front of the whole "family" and stroke himself
off. The look of relief and pleasure on his face as he
spurted out a thick, heavy load of superheated teenage semen
made the women grin. In a strange way, they felt they were
actually helping the boy.
As it turns out, they were. By the end of August, Tim had
learned the whole eighth-grade curriculum. He could
discourse on the separation of powers in the Constitution,
work out polynomials in his head, and make an intelligent
pronouncement on the matter of global warming.
His backyard activities left him tanned, lean and hard-
bodied; his punishment seemed to develop both his maturity
level and his sexuality. With September looming ahead, the
Waterman woman saw a new man in the once-wayward boy. No
longer impulsive and self-centered, rude or pushy, he was
now the soul of deference and politeness. But the activities
of the summer had not made him cringe; he came through his
torments somehow stronger and more confident; what could the
world dish out to him that his females relatives had not?
How could a junior high school math test or a dance or a
basketball game daunt a boy who's been through what Tim had?
Chapter 10
Aunt Becky and her daughters Donna and Leslie liked the
neighborhood so much that they rented a house down the
street from the Watermans, planning on moving out a day
before Elliot was to return. The visiting relatives had a
"farewell" session with Tim, hanging him blindfolded by his
arms and legs from the sturdy limb of a backyard tree, his
limbs spread wide and facing skyward.
The Waterman women invited all their summer "discipline
friends" to visit and they performed every type of perverse
act on him, from a simple spanking and strap-on sodomizing
to more exotic forms like spreading "itching cream" on his
poor balls and cock, and giggling and pointing for five
minutes while he groaned and cried out and writhed. They
finally turned the backyard hose on him, making sure the
full blast of the hose slapped him between his legs front
and back.
But Elliot surprised everyone. He came home two days early,
and was not alone. With him were two friends: another
geologist he'd met overseas whom he'd invited to spend a few
months at the Waterman home. Along with the geologist was
his 15-year-old son.
They crept quietly into the Waterman home at 1 a.m., when
everyone was asleep. The three of them quickly spread out
and each pounced on a sleeping female. Tim was also part of
this commando raid, grabbing a groggy Becky and handcuffing
and gagging her before dragging her into the family living
room where Katherine, Donna and Leslie were already kneeling
and gagged in their nightclothes.
The woman looked up in terror as the males stood over them
in the half-light of the moon shining through a window.
Elliot smiled and started to unbuckle his pants.
"Tim here finally decided a few weeks ago that enough was
enough. And you really shouldn't have left digital pictures
of what you did to Tim where he could get to them and e-mail
the evidence to me," said the father, folding the belt into
a doubled whip.
"I wouldn't have believed it, especially of Tim's own
mother, but I decided that the best way to handle this is
payback. First we're going to strip off all your clothes and
spank your butts with our belts until you cry your eyes out
and your asses are red as a beet. Then we're going to fuck
your shitters and shoot our hot cum deep in your buttholes,"
he said. "And then we'll really start six months of evening
things out for what you did to Tim."
The women's eyes looked panicked; they could only imagine
what four horny, hard-cocked men and boys could do to them,
especially when they held evidence that could send them to
prison for life for sexual molestation and more. They were
trapped, and they knew it. Donna and Leslie were already
starting to cry.
"Of course, maybe I should put this to a vote. Any
objections to us raping and abusing and sexually humiliating
you ladies for the next half-year? No objections?" he said
of the gagged, cuffed women, who could neither speak nor
raise their hands. "Well, I guess my proposal wins. Majority
rules, after all."
The End.
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