Chapter 1
By Sensory OverLord
Story starts with Paul at his mother's bedside in
hospital. She's weak, dying of lukemia. Touching conversation.
Discussion of how he'll be moving in with the Friths that afternoon. She's
sorry she can't afford to keep their house. %%%
She checks details with him. Yes, he's packed up the last of his stuff.
Yes, those people who bought his bed and desk came and collected it early
that morning. Yes, the house is all vaccumed and the fridge cleaned out.
Yes, he did his homework last night. Yes, he's given the Friths her set of
house keys, and they'll drop them in to the agent on Monday.
She runs out of strength to speak, and there's a long silence. Then she
reaches for his hand, squeezing it. "Paul, you're a fine son. I'm very
proud of you. I'm.... I'm sorry I've neglected you in some ways."
"Mum... I never felt neglected. I always knew you had to work hard to
support us."
"Oh that's not what I... You know with all the political changes over
the years, the DHM, and all, I sort of... just never could... with you
growing to be a young man, I'm afraid I definitely did neglect some of my
duties. I'm sorry you've had to deal with... things... on your own."
Paul has an idea of the topic, and it brings a sudden redness to his
ears. He desperately does not want to discuss this, here, now. His mother
is silent a while again, watching him.
"I can see you know what I mean. You're such a shy boy Paul, and that's
my fault too. But you know you're going to be staying with the Frith's
till the end of the school year. After that you'll be adopted by my
sister's family. From what I know both families are quite progressive and
responsible. You'll find...."
She pauses again, gathering strength.
"You may find it a bit of a shock at first. But it's for the best, and
I'm sure you'll adapt. I want you to know that I've given the Friths full
authority. Full... um... moral guardianship... it sounds so strange,
doesn't it? I really have let things slip, I'm so sorry. No, don't say
anything...."
He wasn't really about to. The entire subject makes him squirm.
"Paul, I can't be sure I'll be able to talk with you sensibly much
longer. And you're moving in with our friends today. So I want you to
promise me... ... promise me now you'll be good, and mind what you're
told. They're all law-abiding families, and you can get in a lot of
trouble with the DHM these days if you don't take your moral duties
seriously."
She's getting very weak, and pauses for a long time, perhaps waiting for
him to answer. But he's still tongue tied.
"Paul, promise me you'll do as you're told." She squeezes both his hands
with her one hand he's holding in his. He can barely feel her effort.
He knows she's right, even if it frightens him deeply. "I promise mum.
I'll stay out of trouble, do as I'm told, and work hard at school. Don't
worry mum... I'll be OK."
"Good boy Paul. I know I can trust you. You're very responsible
really, even if you... hhhhhh..."
She sighs deeply, takes a slow inhalation and continues.
"I find it hard to talk about these things. Old fashioned... I talked
to April, but couldn't with Bonnie. It's very likely the Friths will take
a more active role in your um... development than I have, but I don't
know... I trust her though. Just don't forget you promised to do as you
are told." She stops briefly, looking around the room, then continues in a
soft whisper. "Paul... I know you masturbate a lot. No... don't say
anything. I'm not blind and deaf. I was just too timid to take charge and
stop that. I'm sorry..."
Paul has now gone bright red. He wasn't going to say anything, he just
jerked in surprise when she said that. He's glad she's whispering, saying
a thing like that carelessly can get a guy into serious trouble with the
authorities.
After a long silence, in which she gazes at him with her eyelids
drooping as if she's going to sleep, she continues, weakly but no longer
whispering.
"Don't worry, I know you'll be strong enough. I'm so proud of you Paul,
for everything you are. I know it will be difficult for you to hold it
like you should... and it's my fault for neglecting you. I... I kept
telling myself I'd have to begin, to set... to get you used to a... um
acceptable routine. But I just never could. I'm so sorry Paul... ....
Don't forget... you promised."
Soon after, as he's sitting there still holding her hand and she seems
to have drifted off to sleep, a nurse comes in and reminds him it's time to
go.
- - -
The house seems so strange, all empty and echoey. Back from visiting
his mother in hospital, Paul wanders around checking in cupboards, looking
for anything he's forgotten. There's nothing, and every room is completely
bare. Everything has been sold, or given away, or sent to recycling. Even
the fridge is cleaned out and standing open, turned off. Now there's just
a few cardboard boxes of his stuff stacked near the front door, ready to go
when the Friths arrive about 1pm; in a couple of hours. He's lived here
all his life, 17 years. So many memories. He can still remember times in
his early childhood, when his father was alive and this house held nothing
but happiness. Summers playing in the back yard, in a sandpit his dad had
made. It's long gone, only grass between the trees now where he remembers
the timber frame and the cloth cover to keep leaves out when he wasn't
playing there. He remembers how he'd ask his father to play swings, and
the world spinning as his dad held him by the hands and swung him around
and around. Then there was a time of sadness, when his dad died of one of
the Fevers. He'd been 7. He can't remember seeing his father ever ill,
only his mother seeming to cry forever.
But that had passed in his child's memories, and there had been many
more years of happiness in this house, growing up with only his mother.
The more he examines his early memories, the sadder it's making him. He
decides to keep himself busy, and has the idea to change out of the good
clothes he'd worn to the hospital, to old clothes for moving boxes later.
He'd been so distracted this morning, he didn't think to leave out a set of
old clothes. He strips, realises there's nowhere better to put his good
clothes than in the box with the others. He cuts open the tape on the
'good clothes' box, folds away his clothes, retapes up the box. His 'old
clothes' box is there, taped up, and he's about to cut it open when it
occurs to him that he's standing nude in the livingroom, with not a scrap
of cloth left anywhere in the house.
This thought brings a rush of others. First among them is the reminder
from his mother this morning, that things will be different for him now.
He was too shy to speak of it, but he knows what she meant. As long as he
can remember, he's been hearing about the changes... new laws, new
government initiatives, of America struggling to regain the moral greatness
of its past. The growing power of the Department of Homeland Morality, the
Moral Purity Act, the Sexual Richness Doctrine... His small group of close
friends at school hadn't been affected much by these changes, but he knew
of many kids who's families fully supported the new measures. Maybe a
quarter of the students in his year had been fitted with the Moral Purity
Assistant implants, and several others had parents who followed DHM
guidelines for sexual development of their children. It was even becoming
quite common to encounter naked people in public - mostly students at
school, but also adults sometimes.
A most vivid memory appears in his mind. Christine Adams, a very pretty
16 year old in the form below his, had turned up naked at school for a
whole week recently. He'd heard her parents had repeatedly caught her
masturbating, had her fitted with an MPA, then taken out a public nudity
order for her. To top it off, every time he'd seen her at school, she'd
been clearly very aroused. The rumor was that her parents had set her MPA
to keep her that way, aroused and completely unable to cum, as part of the
lesson.
There'd been a lot of tented school trousers that week, including his.
Two boys from her class had been caught masturbating in the school toilets,
fitted with MPAs by order of the DHM, and been given six month nudity
orders.
Standing here naked in his livingroom, his own cock springs to rigid
attention solely from the memory of Christine naked. Really aching
hardness. It's not a large living room, and sometime in the far past
someone had decided to mirror a section of the wall. He looks up now,
seeing himself standing naked and erect. Standing there by the pile of
boxes he sees an average build young man, five foot eight, distinctly nerdy
looking face. One secret he's kept from everyone is his above average
sized penis. It's slightly over 7.5 inches erect, uncircumcised, with a
thick straight shaft and unusually large glans. When fully erect like now,
it stands out around forty five degrees above horizontal from his body.
His hair is light brown, straight, and his pubic hair is similar - light
brown, not very thick, a little curly.
He'd hit puberty a bit early, discovering masturbation at 11. For
several years he'd done it fairly intermittently, due to all the things
he'd heard about 'autonomous masturbation' being such an evil betrayal of
national ideals. Then around the time he'd turned 15 he seemed to have a
hormonal growth surge, and started becoming horny nearly all the time.
Since he'd had the house to himself mostly, and even when his mother was
home she never came into his room without warning, he'd given up on
resisting and acquired the habit of doing it two, three, sometimes four
times a day. After seeing Christine naked and puffy and squirmy, often
even more.
Except for the last.... thinking back, he's startled to realise it's
been four days since he last stroked one out. He's been feeling too sad
and nervous, too busy packing, too tired at night. Now, with his cock
sprung in seconds to full throbbing hardness, he realises how horny he is.
Four days! He can't recall having gone that long without, anytime in
recent years. All of a sudden he's conscious of feeling very full indeed,
somewhere down there in his lowest abdomen.
Well, he's got plenty of time. Nearly two hours. It feels like he'll
need to do it more than once, but still no problem. Perhaps even... and a
darker, deeper erotic thought raises his pulse rate sharply, till it's
pounding in his ears. What his mother was talking about, and Christine's
condition, and those boys that had been caught masturbating... It had all
been an abstract concept to him till recently, but now it looks like it
will become very real. The core of the new sexual ideology, the whole
point of the DHM, MPAs, and all the rest... that only adult, married males
ever have control of their own sexual relief, and even then only via their
spouse. That EVERYONE else, must be absolutely dependent on some other
person, for all their sexual needs. That they must accept the will of
another as the absolute ruler of every aspect of their sexual life. In the
case of legal minors, like himself, there will be one or more official
'moral guardians', with total, backed-by-law control of his sexuality. He
understands the reasoning, why this is a necessary remedy for the excesses
of selfish egoism that had produced the times of Troubles and nearly
destroyed the nation. But the practical implications, for him with new
guardians...
Those will be the husband and wife he's going to live with, starting
today. Then later his mom's sister and her husband. His mom was
officially his moral guardian up till now, but she left him alone to do as
he pleased. Lately he's been hearing of cases in the news, where parents
got into real trouble with the law for leaving their kid's sexual
development to chance. He'd wondered if it would ever affect him. He
still doesn't know where the Friths stand on this. But he'll surely find
out.
'Sexual development'... his blood pounds harder in his ears. He's read
the DHM brochures. For boys this means directly supervised 'ejaculatory
exercises', at intervals actually set by legislation, varying by age group!
For him at 17, it's maximum two per week, minimum one a month! Within that
range, totally the choice of his moral guardians. He can't imagine how
he'd feel after a month without cuming. The DHM policy manual actually
says the intention is to make boys as horny as possible, while allowing
adequate seminal draining for health, in order to maximize total erection
hours for optimal penile growth! Also to enhance seminal storage gland
volume, by simply stretching the vesicles with the pent-up accumulation of
copious teenage seminal production!
The guidelines for moral guardians actually say that, and go into detail
about the character building benefits of enduring imposed ejaculatory
denial over extended intervals. Not to mention the detailed instructions
on methods of enforcing such denial, while also maximising seminal
production rate via frequent supervised non-ejaculatory arousal and
erection exercises. Which means being teased to near orgasm, then left
unrelieved. 'As frequently as convenient without disrupting home, social
and educational schedules' it says! This all applying to 'baseline
sexuality' individuals, which means those without an MPA implant. For
those with an MPA, their entire sexual experience is software scriptable by
their moral guardian, in ways well beyond normal human capacity.
"Imposed ejaculatory denial"... no masturbation allowed! None, unless
actually instructed by his moral guardian. Then there's the part about
recommended exercises, and the strong encouragement that these be
administered or supervised by 'any female' assigned by or including the
moral guardian. Mothers or sisters, 'exercising' teenage boys for their
health! He daren't even think about how that part might relate to him, and
if that was what his mom was apologising for not doing.
Being brought to near orgasm, then stopping... in all the years he's
been masturbating, he's never tried that. He's thought about it a few
times, but then once he's sliding a tight fist up and down his stiff cock,
the pleasure and need gets the better of him and he's never able to even
remember he wanted to try it.
But now, standing naked and throbbing hard in his own home, for the last
time, there's a strong fascination with the idea. It seems quite possible
that he'll soon be finding out what it's like, and not at all by his own
choice. Maybe he should try it now, by himself, as an experiment? The
idea really appeals for some reason. He has to admit, the feel of his
cock throbbing hard and needy, untouched yet demanding touch, is very
pleasurable. Would it be even more so, if he was right on the edge?
Yes! He's got time to experiment with that for a while, then have a
relieving cum or two. He'll try it. But ah.... how? His bed is gone,
all the chairs are gone, there aren't even any tissue boxes around. No
hankerchiefs. He can't just jerk it out on the floor. The back yard is
fairly obscured by trees and fences, but not totally. The toilet seat
squeeks, and the lid sits badly against the cistern so it's not comfortable
to lean back. Ah! The shower! He's feeling a bit sweaty after the hot
bus ride back from the hospital anyway. He can wash and wank at the same
time.
He's so eager to start that he trots into the bathroom and steps into
the clear glass shower cubicle without bothering to close the bathroom
door. No one else home, doors are locked, mum certainly isn't going to turn
up (he wishes she could), and it's giving him a thrill to walk around naked
like this anyway. He turns the water on, adjusts it to a pleasant coolness
for the hot day, and begins both washing and slowly wanking. His washcloth
is packed away, but there's still a piece of soap in the holder. He
lathers his hands up and rubs them over himself, alternating with short
bursts of jacking his soapy right hand along his shaft in his usual manner.
Oh! Yes, it's doing something! Each time he starts and stops, the shaft
gets a bit more steely hard, the head more tightly swollen. It's feeling a
lot more urgent than usual already, which must be something to do with the
four days of bottled up spunk. He can almost feel it boiling inside,
demanding to be let out.
He'd long ago learned the trick of holding off orgasm by tensing the
internal muscles as if holding back urination. When aroused, deliberately
relaxing as if to allow piss to flow never actually releases piss but
instead seems to allow semen to draw down from the seminal vesicles into
the ducts leading into the prostate. That feeling, of these small tubes
filling up with semen, plays a critical part in the initiation of
ejaculation. It's as if the first contraction of orgasm is a direct
response to the nerve impulses signalling filling of the seminal ducts
within the body of the prostate. Keeping the muscles tightened applies
outside pressure on these ducts and prevents them dilating with semen, so
no contraction, no orgasm. The sensation of them filling is perceived
consciously as the very start of orgasm, but it also directly triggers the
contraction pulsations that form the actual ejaculaton process. It doesn't
seem to be reversible - once those ducts fill, orgasm is going to begin.
Today, determined to not cum until he's ready, he's holding things
tightly clenched inside. After a while of this, the feeling is amazing.
An incredibly strong urge to complete, to give his cock just a few more
rubs, so the aching pressure inside can blast out in the ecstatic
contractions of cumming. It's a kind of agonising torture of need and
pleasure, yet bearable because he knows he can decide to cum at any time.
He's wondering why he never tried this before, it's really good. Really,
really good! Just for an experiment, he tries relaxing the tensed muscles,
briefly. Oh! No no no... that was a mistake, he's going to....
almost... some semen 'let down' and he's teetering right on the edge of
orgasm. He can feel the muscles of his prostate twitching, alllllmost
sliding into the fullblown, unstopable orgasm. Ahhhhh the feeling of
intense fullness and urgency, it's incredible! But no... not yet. He
quickly shuts off the hot water tap, blasting himself with cold. The
teetering orgasm retreats ever so slightly, like he's not going to cum any
second. But still... so close. He stops touching himself completely, the
lingering almost orgasm is still there, still threatening to blast off any
time.
Urrrgh! So strong! Needs distraction! Steel-hard cock swinging in
front of him he turns off the water, steps out of the shower, and checks
his watch on the sink bench. 11:45am. He's still got over an hour. Good.
Unnnh! His cock is twitching in almost-cumming spasms. The urge to grab
it and give it one or two good strokes to send him over the edge is
overwhelming, intense. He's read that the MPA implants can induce feelings
described as 'the very edge of orgasm' but prevent actual orgasm, for
indefinite lengths of time. It's almost horrifying to imagine. To feel
this desperate, to be unable to end it, to know that it was going to
continue till your guardian decided it was enough. He can imagine some
guardians might not be motivated by the purest of love and concern.
Christine for instance. Was she feeling something like this? For a week?
Arrhhhh! That was a mistake, just thinking of the sexy girl's visibly
swollen pussy, dripping fluid down her legs, feeling _this_ horny, nearly
tips him over the edge. What can he do to back down a bit?
He walks out of the room, leaving wet footprints on the polished wooden
hall floor. He goes into his bedroom and paces about, but the room is
completely bare and has nothing to distract him. There's only the space
where his bed was, where he'd lain hundreds of times jerking off. The
lighter area of the wall where his desk and PC had been, where he'd done
his homework - and sat jerking off hundreds of times to downloaded porn.
The now empty built-in wardrobe, where his box of porn magazines had been
hidden behind a pile of junk. This isn't helping at all....
Going back down the hall he's in the living room again, and the small
pile of taped-up boxes just reminds him that soon... he'll be living with
a family who very likely are much more active about their Moral Purity Act
observance in their home than his mother. Bonnie is a friend of his
mother's from way back, and she'd often come over to visit them. Sometimes
she'd bring her kids Susan, Chad and Joshua, but he'd always found these
visits embarassing. Susan is two years younger than him, and thinks he's a
dork, always managing to sound superior despite her younger age. It's been
particularly difficult in the last few years as she really filled out. Now
she's 15 to his 17, a genuine sex-bomb, and she knows it. He can barely
manage to mutter a few semi-coherent words when she's around, and the
delight she takes in teasing and tongue-tying him with her nubile body is
positively diabolical. Chad and Joshua are 11 and 9, and seem to play
tag-team backup for their sister's teasing of Paul.
Thinking of them is having a mixed effect. Any time he concentrates on
Susan, his cock seems to teeter close to spontaneously spurting. Thinking
of the boys, and having to live with their sniping... yes, that works. He
concentrates on all the times they've been annoying and it works.
Gradually his cock feels less like an explosion about to happen. Not any
softer, just the dangerous brink-of-cumming twitching inside fades away,
and the feeling of backed-up semen demanding to spurt reduces to a less
trigger-happy level.
Yeah, it's really a very... sexy feeling. He should try this more
often. For now, perhaps going back to the shower, and tease it a little
bit more then rub out a couple of good ones. He walks back down the hall,
into the bathroom. Time, 12:10pm. All good. He gets back into the
shower, re-adjusts the water temperature. Then has an idea. There's
something he's tried here before, that has a very intense effect. This
will certainly be his last opportunity to do it. He wonders how it will go
with the teased urgency he's built up? Well, if it makes him come it
doesn't matter, there's not much time left anyway. He reaches up and
unscrews the shower rose from the metal pipe coming out of the wall.
What's left is a metal ball joint at the end of the pipe, a foot above head
height and pointing down about 45 degrees. The ball has a clean round hole
through the center, with the water flowing from it. It acts like a precise
nozzle, producing an even, solid stream of water from the hole. But this
quickly breaks up into large globs of water, forming a kind of lumpy jet
falling to the shower cubicle floor.
He stands in the right spot, holds his rigid cock lightly with two
fingers to either side of the glans, and positions it so the water stream
impacts directly on the opening at the tip of his glans. At waist height,
after falling several feet the water velocity is quite fast. It
immediately forces into his urethra and fills the passage, right back to
his prostate, expanding it out to the maximum. The stream is uneven, so it
impacts with a shudering, bumpy series of pulses. These pressure waves
transmit along the fluid-filled urethra and vibrate his prostate from the
inside. In addition the water pounding directly on the head of his cock
produces its own stimulation.
The effect is immediate. He's done this before, but always started a
long way from the point of orgasm. Usually this trick makes him fully
rigid and brings him to orgasm within a few minutes, even from a soft-cock
start. Not that he's often soft by the time he gets into the shower with
this thought in mind. But he's tried it. This time it only takes a few
seconds before he's gasping with closeness to orgasm again. He jerks his
cock away from the stream, shuddering with the effort of suppressing an
instant orgasm. He does not want to cum quite yet, but decided right now
that when he does cum, it's going to be from this. He's done this before
and the feeling of his spurts meeting the pulsing water head-on inside is
awesome. The contractions are enough to force both semen and water out,
but on every relaxation the water slams back in again, greatly intensifying
the ejaculation sensations.
But now his cock is twitching spasticly, small prostate contractions
building up... it's going to... no! No, not yet! A distraction, a
distraction... oh OK, wash his hair. It needs it... He grabs the soap
and lathers it in his wet hair. Ah good, thinking of something else is
working, the twitches are diminishing. But the feeling! He can't believe
how urgently and loudly his body is demanding "Let me cum, NOW!"
While he lathers he stands with his feet spread wide, consciously
undulating his pelvis in long, slow fucking thrusts, letting out the
feelings in slow sexual moans timed to the thrusts. Examining his body's
demand, savouring it, concentrating on the intensity of the pressure inside
him, and how much his cock screams for friction to go with the thrusts.
How the complete absense of any contact seems to exquisitely amplify every
other sensation.
He's thinking of what it would be like, for a boy with very strict
guardians who never let him cum. It's somehow very erotic to imagine
feeling like this then just stopping with no relief. Or being forced to
stop. He builds a little side fantasy; with himself being tormented like
that. Playing both parts he answers his body's moaning desire aloud "No
Paul, you mustn't come. Boy, you can moan all you like, but it won't get
you what you want. You have to hold it. You're not allowed to cum without
my permission." He switches back to playing himself, still thrusting in
air. "Oooooooooohhhhhhhhh... please... it's been so long... Soooo
fuuuulll......" For some reason he's getting a real buzz out of imagining
seeing himself from someone else's eyes, imagining her excited by seeing
his tortured need, his big rigid aching cock making hi..her proud and
horny.... ordering him to prove himself, to show how he could hold it no
matter how close his m... she teased him. He switches. "Well of course
you're full boy! I want you full, as full as you can be! You'll have to
get used to it won't you! We can't have you jerking yourself off when I'm
not around. Don't forget you promised! That's MY semen in you Paul, you
remember that now! I want you to hold it! Hold it all for me!"
This fantasy is making his pulse pound like he's having a heart attack!
He'd hardly started those lines when he admitted to himself that it's his
mother he's imagining. Some kind of stronger, willful mother, mixed with
his real, loving, dying mum. One who wasn't too timid to take her pleasure
in controlling his sex, one who'd masturbated and sucked him since puberty
on a strict, sparse schedule like a good mother should, showing her love
and care by making sure he was always horny like the other boys. Now
training him for the trials he'll face without her there to give him
relief. And because she trusted him so much, making sure his trials would
be as difficult as possible! The idea is at once terrifying and darkly
arousing. Making him hold 'her' semen! He doesn't have a clue where that
came from, but it makes him shudder with excitement. Imagine! She'd...
she'd... make him build up as much as possible... in a real, legal sense,
it is hers. And he did promise her. But really, he's very glad it's not
like that, and he'll be cumming in a few moments. Still, it's fucking
exciting to imagine. He's still rolling his hips, moaning softly as he
tries to imagine this feeling, but with weeks... no months of
accumulated pressure behind it.
The soap has lathered up thickly in his hair, and he's rubbing it around
with both hands, working the suds into his scalp. Normally he'd use
shampoo, but the bottle has been packed away. Every now and then he uses
pure soap, for the different feel it produces when his hair is dry. The
jet of water is still falling to the shower floor beside him, the loud
splattering sound fainter now his ears are full of thick lather. He
decides to play this whole thing to the extreme. Just a few more minutes
anyway.
"In fact... I want as much as possible in there son! You're to
exercise often and hard! Go right to the edge, till you feel like you'll
explode! Frustration, Paul, frustration! Keep your cock big and rigid and
full and horny, like a good boy who does what he's told. I want you
busting full with semen, never cumming for months and months! I want you
aching hard, standing up rigid and twitching with need, dripping with
pre-cum day and night, so all the girls and boys know how proud I am of
you."
Ooohhhhhh. The nastyness of the thought is setting him on fire. Having
to tease himself over and over, being erect all the time with no way to
hide it... Can he stand another go with the jet right now, before rinsing?
Let's see.... He takes one soapy lathered hand and grabs his rigid cock.
It seems harder than it has ever been, like a piece of stone. It will bend
at the base, but that's all. He strokes it a few times. "Ahhhhhhhhhh
oohhhhhh yeahhhhhhhh sooooo close! Ohhhhhhhh!" Then he stops, and takes
the head in the two fingered grip again. With his eyes closed against the
soap foam all over his head and face he can't see the stream, but can hear
and feel it. He centers his glans under the stream, allowing the jet to
pound inside him again. "AHHHHHHHhhhoooohhh! OH OHHHH GOD... DAMNN....
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" He keeps it there. This time the feeling isn't so novel,
and the combination of not really minding if he does cum, plus the new game
of pretending he absoluteley isn't allowed to cum, seem to have given him a
stronger resistance. He can actually let the water forcefully massage his
inermost sexual parts, and feel the hovering orgasm, but the two are only
moving together slowly, like giant ponderous objects. There's some
margin... even if he can barely think straight.
"NnnnnyyyaaaaAAAAHHHHHH! OHHHhhhhhhh..." "Yes Paul! T..Take iit! That
uhhh close enough for you? Do you want to cum? Well you can't!
Uuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh.... oh... I'm going to... to... OH NO you're
not! Not while I'm still here! You hold it boy!"
The imponderable objects were getting dangerously close, and he jerks
his cock from the stream, letting go of it entirely. In his belly the
pressure, the need to come feels like he might actually explode! With both
hands back lathering his hair, his hips are thrusting with a faster
desperation, his cock fucking air, untouched. He doesn't even try to stop
his hips, just takes it as more of the same message of horny extremis he's
really enjoying now. Next time, or the next, he'll let his cock cum.
"Hey Paul, that's an amazing technique. I didn't realise Holley was
training you so well."
He freezes. The voice is Bonnie's, and it's right there next to him.
The soap... he can't open his eyes... "Aww mum, it was fun watching him
exercise his little dicky. Did you have to stop him?" His soul drains out
through his feet. That's Susan. "It's not so little Suze!" "But she
didn't tell him to stop." That's Chad and Joshua. He's going to go
catonic, he thinks. Except his cock, that hasn't even taken any notice.
It just WANTS TO COME, and there's no room for anything else.
"Hey you guys, I'm done loading the boxes and we need to get going. Can
you hurry it up in here? He can do some more exercises at home, if he's
not finished his routine." Now it's Marvin Frith, Susan's dad. It sounds
like he's over by the bathroom door.
Bonnie: "Dear, I think we'll need to get a new shower head like that
one. Paul, show Marvin your trick."
Marvin: "But, there's no shower... oh, there it is. Why is the shower
head unscrewed? Is it broken?"
Susan: "Dad, it's for the water stream. Watch what he does. It's
funny!"
Bonnie: "Suze, I think he's gone all shy. You're the least dressed,
please help him rinse the suds off then demonstrate to dad."
Susan: "Ok mum. Oh... I guess he can rinse with just the water jet."
She steps out of her flipflops, pulls off her tiny white tank top, unzips
her lemon yellow microskirt and removes her matching yellow floral panties.
Completely naked she places her clothes on the sink bench and steps into
the shower, avoiding the water cascade. There's not a trace of hair
anywhere on her body below her neck, but the tight, neat slit between her
legs is belied by her very un-childlike curvy figure and the prominently
puffed up nipples on her grapfruit sized breasts. Paul has gone completely
non-compis, just standing there with his eyes closed under the suds, soapy
hands in his soapy hair, and a twitching rigid erection.
Susan steers him so his head is under the jet, and begins rinsing out
the soap. She's quick but thorough, making sure all the soap is gone. She
tells him to keep his eyes closed till she's done. After doing his head
and face, she washes down the rest of his body, hands first. He's still
standing there passively, hands at his sides and shuddering a little,
mostly at the hips.
When there's nothing left but some suds on his pubes and still rigid
erection, Susan stops, considering him. "Mum, you know if he sees, uh...
you know, it might set him off, even though he's trying so hard not to.
Can you pass me my ...uh... that?" She points to her tank top on the
bench. Her mum passes her the small tube of elastic material without
comment. Susan twists it into a double loop then stretches it over Paul's
head and lets it settle tightly as a wide blindfold.
"There. Don't want to spoil the effect. Now, just a little more..."
She moves Paul so the water jet is falling close by his pubes. Grasping
his erection in her right hand she splashes water from the stream onto his
groin, as she works her hand up and down his shaft and around his balls.
Here she's far less efficient, with a lot more sliding of her hand up and
down his shaft than the rinsing requires. Paul's hips shudder more firmly,
trying to start a rocking action in time to her sliding, but she keeps
changing her rate to prevent him synchronizing. At one point he fumblingly
tries to grab her wrists. "S... Susan, you shouldn't... do..."
She slaps his hands away. "Now Paul, you know mum and dad are here.
You heard mum. So I'm in charge of you just now. Hands at your sides
please and leave them there."
She's now begun something that isn't even faintly related to rinsing
him. Kneeling, she has her left hand cupped around his right bumcheek,
fingers in his crack. Her right hand is firmly stroking up and down his
erection, holding it nearly vertical and very close to the water stream.
"Dad, you missed the buildup part. He was jacking himself like this,
and we thought he was going to masturbate himself to orgasm. Such a
naughty boy moving in with us! So we all kept quiet, to see if he'd dare.
But when he got really close, he did this waterjet trick, and was repeating
what Holley must have instructed him, last time she managed him before
going into hospital. It's so sad.... She told him to keep exercising as
hard as he can, even though he has to hold it because she's not here to let
him cum. Poor boy, he's trying so hard."
She strokes him slowly a little more.
"He's nearly ready, I can feel it twitching. Mum, should I make him
pop? You and dad are his guardians now. It doesn't seem really fair. I
mean Holley went into hospital weeks ago, and she might... you know, no
one knows how long. Months even. Ohhh... months..." Susan's own hips
rock slowly, and she glances quickly at her mother. A slight shake of her
mother's head, and Susan sighs, spreading her kneeling thighs till her
knees are wide apart.
Marvin cuts in. "Suze, mum and I can discuss Paul's relief schedule
later. For now, I'd say better to honour Holley's wishes. Besides, we
really have to go in a few minutes. If you can just show me what you
wanted, then lets get moving."
"OK dad. Like this. He'd get himself edged, then... this!" She
suddenly holds his glans under the water jet, allowing it to pound into
him. She grips him firmly by his arse and penis, so he can't move much.
Paul throws his blindfolded head back, and moans loudly.
"UUuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHH! Uhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnn.... Oooooooo
I.... I..... can't..... please..... I'll..... uuunnnnnnnnnnhhhhh...
gonna....... gonna......"
Susan says very sternly to him "No you're not! Don't you dare come,
Paul Linden! If you come your mother will never forgive you! And you'll
get such a spanking...." She pinches his bottom hard, as she keeps holding
his cock opening in line with the water jet. "Uuuu....hhhhhh.....hhhhh
no... hhhhh..." He's panting rapidly. "uuuuu.... uuunnnooo...
uuuUUnnnNNNN UUNNNN... ARRHHHHH! uuuuu... uuuu...." He'd started panting
louder, and louder, but Susan grabbed his balls and squeezed them firmly,
as she jerked his penis away from the jet.
Susan leans close to his ear and says softly "Paul, when you are told
not to cum, then you are NOT. GOING. TO. CUM. Better get used to it.
Now..." She swings his cock back under the jet. This time she has her fist
wrapped loosely around his shaft just below the glans, while cupping his
balls in her other hand for long moments more, as Paul whimpers and moans.
"Oh god mummy! I can feel the water inflating and pulsing his pee hole,
all the way down his cock! It must be really working him over inside
there! But he's holding on! Oh mummy, sooo hot! Ooooo... I want to make
him practice this a lot, can I mummy? Pleeeeese? ooohh... yess.... I
can feel when he's getting close, he sort of shivers.... No Paul, uh uh
uuhhh! You prommmmmised!" She pulls him away from the water jet, and shuts
off the water.
Stepping out of the shower, she presses down on the top of his glans,
bending his cock down to below horizontal. Then lets her finger slip off.
His cock snaps back stiffly, vibrating around it's resting position for
several oscillations.
"That should do for now." She looks around. "Oh, mum, I... Hey,
there's no towels!" Before she's finished speaking, Chad and Joshua chime
in, in singsong unison. "Mum, Susan has a stiffiiieee!"
"Yes dears, I know she does. Ha ha... well Susan, I think you were
about to tell me, but they did beat you to it. I won't bend rules just
because there are no towels here. It solves the towel problem, anyway."
Bonnie picks up her daughter's skirt and panties, bunches them, and quickly
wipes her daughter's wet body down with them. She avoids the girl's
crotch, where the uppermost two inches of her now much more puffy labia are
now parted by a swollen mound down the center. The lower half of this is a
wetly gleaming stiff pink fat-ended finger, that sticks out from under a
cowling of taut skin covering the upper part. The thickened lower end
presses apart the labia, resting a little more outside than inside the
cleft. Bonnie presses a finger to either side of her daughter's labia, and
the clit pops forward, allowing the labia to come together behind it. When
Bonnie releases pressure the clit slips back inwards. Bonnie repeats this
several more times, as Susan gasps softly with each wetly slick movement.
"Ohh... Ohh.... Ohh... mum... oh...oooohhhh..." "Well Suze, if you'd
worries less about a towel, and remembered the rules, we wouldn't have to
be doing this. Now... boys, attend to her please. Be ready to stop when
I tell you."
The two boys fasten like limpets to her breasts, each of them wrapping
their hands around a breast and squeezing it, while they take her hardened
nipples in their mouths and suck greedily. Susan writhes, her head back,
groaning loudly. Then even more loudly as Bonnie presses two middle
fingers into the girl's lower slickness, slipping them deep into her
vagina. She searches for a moment, while still teasing the girl's clit.
"Ah, there... My! I think you must like Paul a lot huh? You're already
all swollen in here before I even touched it. Maybe we should change its
name from g-spot to p-spot? Tsk tsk... I'm really going to have to keep
an eye on you now, aren't I? Genitals anyone would think were _designed_
to make you cum just from walking, and now... a horny big-cocked older
brother you'll have to be exercising often. Several times a day, I gather.
Hmm... you're really getting close fast! Boys... stop now. You see how
she's flushed right down to her shoulders? Just a little more on the
p-spot, ha ha ha..."
She keeps moving her fingers inside the girl, carefully now, watching
Susan's face twist in the final stages approaching climax.
Meanwhile Marvin had reached into the shower and guided Paul out by the
arm. Taking the damp cloth of Susan's dress and panties from Bonnie, he'd
given the blindfolded, sexually shell-shocked teenager a cursory rub down,
avoiding all contact with the boy's spectacularly rigid, frustrated cock.
He'd then placed the stunned boy with his back to a wall, made him spread
his feet apart a couple of feet and place his hands on his head, then stood
by keeping one eye on the teenager and another (rather more) on the
treatment his daughter was receiving. He casually chatted to Paul, knowing
the youth wouldn't be paying much attention judging by the tortuous
frustrated thrusting of the boy's hips, the rigid cock stroking only air.
"So, Holly has some spine after all! I'm a little surprised, she seemed
such a meek one. Shows you never can tell, eh?" He's silent for a while,
watching his wife and sons tease his daughter close to orgasm. Paul can't
see it, but Marvin's trousers sport an impressive tent. After another
minute, as Susan seems to be approaching her climax he gives up trying to
ignore it. "Darn it. I can't drive like this!" He opens his fly and
reaches in, freeing his erection from its bent discomfort. He's rather
strangely endowed - about nine and a half inches in length, but the shaft
is disproportionately thin, being an oddly uniform stalk around one and a
half inches in diameter. In contrast the glans seems to have taken up the
missing bulk, looking like a fat round purple plum on the end of a stick.
The tip is barely pointed at all, while the thickest part is nearly three
inches across. He's not circumcised, but with the way his foreskin has
popped back tightly around his shaft just behind the bulbous head, it's not
easy to tell. Until he begins to casually stroke a closed fist up and down
the long shaft, the skin sliding easily as he watches the others.
Then Bonnie is satisfied with Susan's state of frustration. She pulls
her fingers from the girl, and stops squeezing her clit between the
slippery labia. She has one last thing to do. She slips a finger tip up
under the tight hood holding the girl's clit in a downward position. She
gives a sharp upward tug, stretching the hood up and back towards the base
of the trapped clit shaft. This frees the clit shaft, which is not
actually attached to the hood, and it springs out to form a straight finger
projecting from the apex of Susan's slit. The hood ends up bunched over
the upper side of the clit at the root, tightly pressing on it but unable
to exert enough leverage on the rigid stalk to pull it back down into her
slit. Now the 15 year old girl has a very penis-like two inch projection
sticking straight out, even with a pronounced bulb at the end.
Marvin: "Well, NOW are we ready? Seriously, I've got to be in the
conference call at two pm, and it's nearly one now. Come on, let's go!" He
grabs Paul by the arm. "Come this way. Oh, ha ha.. well, I should say
walk this way. I guess you'll be wanting to avoid cumming for a while,
eh?" He steers the naked, cock-swaying youth out of the bathroom and down
the hallway. "Better leave that blindfold on for a little while, till
you're not so close. I don't suppose you see all that many cute nude
aroused chicks, and Susan is quite something just now. Wouldn't want you
to have an accident in the car."
Paul is beginning to be able to function again. He stops walking. "Uh,
Mr Frith, I uh... my clothes, they're in a box by the door. Can I just
take this off while I get them?"
"Oh ho ho never mind Paul, all the boxes are out in the trailer already.
It's OK, only a short drive you know. Come along now, don't be difficult!"
Pauls seems like he's going to argue for a moment, then shivers and
starts walking again.
"I guess you weren't expecting us early, eh? Still no harm done, we can
give you a top-up session later today. I'm impressed by the way. Quite
ingenious. I'll definitely switch our shower head to one like that so the
girls can continue your mum's program for you. I can't wait to try it.
Well, except I'll have Bonnie make me cum that way. Did your mum ever make
you cum like that?"
Paul hesitates a long moment. Too much overload! He's still
desperately aching to come, he's about to be walked out into the front
driveway naked and erect, and now he has to try and not go along with some
completely wrong ideas these people have about his mother and his sexual
practices. It's too hard to think... What should he say? He's certain of
one thing - it can't be a good idea to admit he _was_ meaning to masturbate
to orgasm. And that he did it a lot. He'll have to pretend that they are
right... but that means... never mind! Answer him!
"Uh, yes Mr Frith... she did. A few times."
"Ha ha ha... Oh that's hot! Those horny single moms with teenage boys!
Everybody fatasizes about them. No husband so they're not permitted to
orgasm. But they have to exercise their sons. Taking her frustrations out
on you, eh? I bet she came up with some pretty kinky stuff! No wonder
she's got you on a long hard denial. I can really see her point. Having
you promise to keep _her_ semen in you - that's brilliant! Really
heartwarming! You'll have something to remind you of her love for you,
every minute of the days. At least until the DHM decides you need to be
drained for health reasons. But you needn't worry, I'm fully behind her
idea, and I'm sure Bonnie will be too. So leave the DHM to us. I read
semen doesn't ever really go _off_, it just kind of sets in place when it's
packed away a long time. Might be a bit hard to keep Susan from overdoing
it, but we know how to keep her under control. These your keys inside the
front door? Yellow tag?"
"Err... yes Mr Frith. Uh... there's..."
"Watch your step here, front portch. That's OK, you've no pockets now,
I'll take the house keys off for the agent on Monday, keep the rest for
you. You did a good job cleaning out by the looks of it."
Paul can hear cars passing by on the street, only a few meters away.
Voices nearby. That's.... ohhhh... it's Mrs Tubb and her 18 year old
daughter June, talking with Bonnie and Susan. June, a year older than him
and no interest in being friends with him at all. June, of the frequent
nude backyard sunbathing, who's father religiously exercised her without
orgasm once a day in the morning from 6.30am till 7am before breakfast.
Except on Sundays, when he'd usually exercise her several times through the
day, then fuck her with his wife's assistance once in the evening. Usually
she was required to orgasm then, but sometimes if her behaviour had been
bad she wasn't permitted. Paul knew about this because June was very noisy
when aroused, possibly because Mr Tubb would spank her if he felt she
wasn't expressing herself adequately. The weekday exercises were always
indoors, so Paul never saw them. But sometimes on Sundays, he'd exercise
her out on a pool lounge. A few times he and his wife had done her
once-a-week fuck there too. June was another long term fixture of Paul's
masturbation fantasies. From what he'd seen she was always exercised with
a large 'tennis ball' sized vibrator on a long handle, that was used on the
front of her pussy and breasts but never penetrated her. For the fucking
her mother would lay her on her back then pull her ankles back over her
head, lifting her spread crotch straight up. Mr Tubb would then enter her
and pound away. He seemed to have plenty of staying power, possibly
because of cialis or something like that. But Paul had seen Mr Tubb's
erection clearly a few times and it was probably no more than four inches,
and not very thick either.
He's hoping they can just get in the car and go. But Bonnie calls out.
"Marvin dear! Bring Paul over to say goodbye to his neighbours!"
Marvin mutters under his breath. "Time, time..." Louder: "OK dear, but
we absolutely have to go in a minute." He guides Paul in a new direction,
apparently walking him around the car.
Bonnie: "Marvin, I don't think you've met the Tubbs. This is Claire,
and June. My husband, Marvin. Ah, please excuse Paul and Susan, they've
just been exercised rather intensely, and probably won't be much good at
conversation for a little while."
Claire: "Hello Marvin, pleased to meet you. Bonnie has told me good
things about you. Mmmm..." She looks directly at his unusual erection,
still standing from his opened fly. "Tell me, is that... how it
originally came?s"
Marvin: "Ha ha ha... like it? No, it was fairly normal till a few
years ago. I was thinking of getting a piercing or something for Bonnie,
so I asked her what she'd like. She hunted around and found a new thing
called morphic moulding. The DHM had just approved it for public use, and
only one company has the patent. They've put their prices ridiculously
high since, but back then they had an introductory special so we could
afford it. It's not like plastic surgery, there's no cutting. They have
something that tells cells to flow a little, and they use molds and some
weird electric stuff to reshape tissue and change nerve connections around.
It actually makes the nerves feel more sensitive too, and they also did
some adjustments back in wiring so it... uh behaves a little differently
to normal. I let Bonnie write the specs, and for a while thought she might
have gone a bit far. But I've grown to like it, ha ha ha."
Claire is still staring at it, fascinated. "Oh? How different? If
it's not too personal?" Marvin: "Oh well actually I'd rather not--" Bonnie,
cutting in: "No Claire! Of course we don't mind, do we Marvin! You know
Mr Tubb is a little on the little side, so Claire is asking from genuine
interest. It's so great Claire! For one thing, once he's erect there's
only one thing can make him go down except coming. Otherwise it just stays
there! We've tested it out, and it absolutely does, for days! The longest
we've tried so far is four days. He refuses to try for longer than that.
Says the erection still feels nice, but the seminal urgency boy-thing gets
to him." Marvin: "Well that's because of the--" Bonnie: "Hush dear, I'll
get to that! There was one thing I specially asked for. If they couldn't
do it, I didn't want any of this. It took them a while to figure out how
to do it, and cost a bit more, but it was really worth it! I wanted his
whole cock to feel as good for him as it always had, but instead of almost
any stimulation done long enough being able to trigger orgasm, I wanted
just one, specific spot able to make him blow, and no other. Can you guess
where? Ha ha ha..." She grabs his cock in her hand and starts fondling him
vigorously. She grips the head and massages it, runs her fist tightly in
short up and down the shaft just behind the head. She keeps changing,
smiling at her husband as she shows him off to the Tubbs.
Both Marvin and Claire are breathing somewhat faster. Claire "Ah...
only the head?" Bonnie, cheefully: "Nope! Guess again!" Claire, tilting
her head, intrigued: "Um... the uh, frenulum? It's very sensitive, isn't
it?" Bonnie, joyful at winning this game: "Yes it is, but NO! I didn't
want to make it _easier_ for him to cum, silly! I wanted some _control_
over when he cums! And so....wait, we need to see a bit more."
She deftly undoes his belt buckle, and pushes his trousers down to his
knees. His conservative black underwear, with nine and a half inches of
rigid cock sticking through the front slit goes the same way after she
undoes the two buttons at the top of the slit. With him fully exposed now
she shifts her hand to the very base of the striking shaft of tubular rigid
meat. Forming a simple ring with her thumb and forefinger, she strokes
tightly up and down only about half an inch, actually pressing against his
pubic bone almost the whole time. The effect on Marvin is striking. He
gasps, his whole body stiffening and his hips thrust forwards. "Oh! Dear
are you... uhhhh sure... uhhhh you know it's been.... uhhhh..."
Bonnie: "Never mind him Claire. He's trying to say it's been three days
since he came, and the one more thing I didn't mention is that they were
able to permanently increase his production rate, a LOT. He makes over
10ml a day, and I can tell you, it was pretty funny for a while. Talk
about Mr Frantic! In less that a day! But we worked on it, and now his
storage is up to nearly five days. Right now he's holding maybe 30 or 40
ml. Not really uncomfortable yet, he's just starting to feel needy on top
of his usual horny."
Claire: "I'm not sure I... so, you don't have sex very often?"
Bonnie: "Oh no! Every day! For as long as we like and often several
times! Don't you get it? Look at him! He's well over nine inches long! I
don't know about you Claire, but I can't take more than eight inches
comfortably, absolutely nine maximium if he's pushing so hard it's really
hurting. And he's a dear, and would never hurt me. So he can pound my
pussy all he likes, that special spot is never going in!
No, the only way he can cum in me, is if I rub it for him while he fucks
me, or... I let him have a special treat, and fuck me in the arse. Either
way, can you imagine how that huge knob feels, thrusting up and down inside
you? It's extremely sensitive for him too, and the feeling sends him
practically berserk after a while, especially when I haven't let him come
for several days and he's really feeling the urgency. Isn't it brilliant!"
Bonnie is still slightly jacking Marvin's cock-root. He's panting and
jerking, going a bit red in the face. He again tries to get a word in:
"Claire.... if... huuuu... if you're going to huuuu m.. make me sh...
shooot hu... you maybe shhhh... shoould point it... huuu... away..."
She laughs. "Yeah... ha ha I should. ha ha... It's like a firehose
when it blows. Really, like a hose. Well, a garden hose anyway... Goes
right across the room. You should come round sometime and I'll show you.
Ha ha ha... Bring June and we can give her something solid to come on.
Oh, I see she's making friends with Paul... that's cute. But I'm not
going to make Marvin cum now. Sure June, you can touch him. But be
careful, he was very close a few minutes ago, and it's very important he
doesn't cum. Nice sized natural cock isn't he?"
Claire also notices her daughter, who sometime during the conversation
has reached between the metal rails of the fence and grasped Paul's
erection, pulling him closer to the fence. She doesn't say anything to
June, just looks back to Claire. "So this 'morphic moulding' - how much
size can it add?"
Bonnie: "Oh, I'm sorry Claire, I forgot... no, unfortunately it doesn't
work that way. It can only move bulk around, and then only limited. Same
tissue type to same, and so on. We were lucky; Marvin was pretty heftily
endowed already. We just kinda stretched it out." She stops teasing him
with her base-stroking and lets go entirely. He's left positively
strumming with tension, his bar and ball of a cock visibly vibrating with
rapid jerkings.
Claire replies wistfully: "Oh well. It's probably not suitable for the
elderly anyway. My husband is 59 you know. Not a young man any more. I
don't mind, but we're both becoming a bit concerned for June. She's a very
good girl mostly, and she exercises very passionately, but Mr Tubb can't
really do justice to her relief needs
By Sensory OverLord
Story starts with Paul at his mother's bedside in
hospital. She's weak, dying of lukemia. Touching conversation.
Discussion of how he'll be moving in with the Friths that afternoon. She's
sorry she can't afford to keep their house. %%%
She checks details with him. Yes, he's packed up the last of his stuff.
Yes, those people who bought his bed and desk came and collected it early
that morning. Yes, the house is all vaccumed and the fridge cleaned out.
Yes, he did his homework last night. Yes, he's given the Friths her set of
house keys, and they'll drop them in to the agent on Monday.
She runs out of strength to speak, and there's a long silence. Then she
reaches for his hand, squeezing it. "Paul, you're a fine son. I'm very
proud of you. I'm.... I'm sorry I've neglected you in some ways."
"Mum... I never felt neglected. I always knew you had to work hard to
support us."
"Oh that's not what I... You know with all the political changes over
the years, the DHM, and all, I sort of... just never could... with you
growing to be a young man, I'm afraid I definitely did neglect some of my
duties. I'm sorry you've had to deal with... things... on your own."
Paul has an idea of the topic, and it brings a sudden redness to his
ears. He desperately does not want to discuss this, here, now. His mother
is silent a while again, watching him.
"I can see you know what I mean. You're such a shy boy Paul, and that's
my fault too. But you know you're going to be staying with the Frith's
till the end of the school year. After that you'll be adopted by my
sister's family. From what I know both families are quite progressive and
responsible. You'll find...."
She pauses again, gathering strength.
"You may find it a bit of a shock at first. But it's for the best, and
I'm sure you'll adapt. I want you to know that I've given the Friths full
authority. Full... um... moral guardianship... it sounds so strange,
doesn't it? I really have let things slip, I'm so sorry. No, don't say
anything...."
He wasn't really about to. The entire subject makes him squirm.
"Paul, I can't be sure I'll be able to talk with you sensibly much
longer. And you're moving in with our friends today. So I want you to
promise me... ... promise me now you'll be good, and mind what you're
told. They're all law-abiding families, and you can get in a lot of
trouble with the DHM these days if you don't take your moral duties
seriously."
She's getting very weak, and pauses for a long time, perhaps waiting for
him to answer. But he's still tongue tied.
"Paul, promise me you'll do as you're told." She squeezes both his hands
with her one hand he's holding in his. He can barely feel her effort.
He knows she's right, even if it frightens him deeply. "I promise mum.
I'll stay out of trouble, do as I'm told, and work hard at school. Don't
worry mum... I'll be OK."
"Good boy Paul. I know I can trust you. You're very responsible
really, even if you... hhhhhh..."
She sighs deeply, takes a slow inhalation and continues.
"I find it hard to talk about these things. Old fashioned... I talked
to April, but couldn't with Bonnie. It's very likely the Friths will take
a more active role in your um... development than I have, but I don't
know... I trust her though. Just don't forget you promised to do as you
are told." She stops briefly, looking around the room, then continues in a
soft whisper. "Paul... I know you masturbate a lot. No... don't say
anything. I'm not blind and deaf. I was just too timid to take charge and
stop that. I'm sorry..."
Paul has now gone bright red. He wasn't going to say anything, he just
jerked in surprise when she said that. He's glad she's whispering, saying
a thing like that carelessly can get a guy into serious trouble with the
authorities.
After a long silence, in which she gazes at him with her eyelids
drooping as if she's going to sleep, she continues, weakly but no longer
whispering.
"Don't worry, I know you'll be strong enough. I'm so proud of you Paul,
for everything you are. I know it will be difficult for you to hold it
like you should... and it's my fault for neglecting you. I... I kept
telling myself I'd have to begin, to set... to get you used to a... um
acceptable routine. But I just never could. I'm so sorry Paul... ....
Don't forget... you promised."
Soon after, as he's sitting there still holding her hand and she seems
to have drifted off to sleep, a nurse comes in and reminds him it's time to
go.
- - -
The house seems so strange, all empty and echoey. Back from visiting
his mother in hospital, Paul wanders around checking in cupboards, looking
for anything he's forgotten. There's nothing, and every room is completely
bare. Everything has been sold, or given away, or sent to recycling. Even
the fridge is cleaned out and standing open, turned off. Now there's just
a few cardboard boxes of his stuff stacked near the front door, ready to go
when the Friths arrive about 1pm; in a couple of hours. He's lived here
all his life, 17 years. So many memories. He can still remember times in
his early childhood, when his father was alive and this house held nothing
but happiness. Summers playing in the back yard, in a sandpit his dad had
made. It's long gone, only grass between the trees now where he remembers
the timber frame and the cloth cover to keep leaves out when he wasn't
playing there. He remembers how he'd ask his father to play swings, and
the world spinning as his dad held him by the hands and swung him around
and around. Then there was a time of sadness, when his dad died of one of
the Fevers. He'd been 7. He can't remember seeing his father ever ill,
only his mother seeming to cry forever.
But that had passed in his child's memories, and there had been many
more years of happiness in this house, growing up with only his mother.
The more he examines his early memories, the sadder it's making him. He
decides to keep himself busy, and has the idea to change out of the good
clothes he'd worn to the hospital, to old clothes for moving boxes later.
He'd been so distracted this morning, he didn't think to leave out a set of
old clothes. He strips, realises there's nowhere better to put his good
clothes than in the box with the others. He cuts open the tape on the
'good clothes' box, folds away his clothes, retapes up the box. His 'old
clothes' box is there, taped up, and he's about to cut it open when it
occurs to him that he's standing nude in the livingroom, with not a scrap
of cloth left anywhere in the house.
This thought brings a rush of others. First among them is the reminder
from his mother this morning, that things will be different for him now.
He was too shy to speak of it, but he knows what she meant. As long as he
can remember, he's been hearing about the changes... new laws, new
government initiatives, of America struggling to regain the moral greatness
of its past. The growing power of the Department of Homeland Morality, the
Moral Purity Act, the Sexual Richness Doctrine... His small group of close
friends at school hadn't been affected much by these changes, but he knew
of many kids who's families fully supported the new measures. Maybe a
quarter of the students in his year had been fitted with the Moral Purity
Assistant implants, and several others had parents who followed DHM
guidelines for sexual development of their children. It was even becoming
quite common to encounter naked people in public - mostly students at
school, but also adults sometimes.
A most vivid memory appears in his mind. Christine Adams, a very pretty
16 year old in the form below his, had turned up naked at school for a
whole week recently. He'd heard her parents had repeatedly caught her
masturbating, had her fitted with an MPA, then taken out a public nudity
order for her. To top it off, every time he'd seen her at school, she'd
been clearly very aroused. The rumor was that her parents had set her MPA
to keep her that way, aroused and completely unable to cum, as part of the
lesson.
There'd been a lot of tented school trousers that week, including his.
Two boys from her class had been caught masturbating in the school toilets,
fitted with MPAs by order of the DHM, and been given six month nudity
orders.
Standing here naked in his livingroom, his own cock springs to rigid
attention solely from the memory of Christine naked. Really aching
hardness. It's not a large living room, and sometime in the far past
someone had decided to mirror a section of the wall. He looks up now,
seeing himself standing naked and erect. Standing there by the pile of
boxes he sees an average build young man, five foot eight, distinctly nerdy
looking face. One secret he's kept from everyone is his above average
sized penis. It's slightly over 7.5 inches erect, uncircumcised, with a
thick straight shaft and unusually large glans. When fully erect like now,
it stands out around forty five degrees above horizontal from his body.
His hair is light brown, straight, and his pubic hair is similar - light
brown, not very thick, a little curly.
He'd hit puberty a bit early, discovering masturbation at 11. For
several years he'd done it fairly intermittently, due to all the things
he'd heard about 'autonomous masturbation' being such an evil betrayal of
national ideals. Then around the time he'd turned 15 he seemed to have a
hormonal growth surge, and started becoming horny nearly all the time.
Since he'd had the house to himself mostly, and even when his mother was
home she never came into his room without warning, he'd given up on
resisting and acquired the habit of doing it two, three, sometimes four
times a day. After seeing Christine naked and puffy and squirmy, often
even more.
Except for the last.... thinking back, he's startled to realise it's
been four days since he last stroked one out. He's been feeling too sad
and nervous, too busy packing, too tired at night. Now, with his cock
sprung in seconds to full throbbing hardness, he realises how horny he is.
Four days! He can't recall having gone that long without, anytime in
recent years. All of a sudden he's conscious of feeling very full indeed,
somewhere down there in his lowest abdomen.
Well, he's got plenty of time. Nearly two hours. It feels like he'll
need to do it more than once, but still no problem. Perhaps even... and a
darker, deeper erotic thought raises his pulse rate sharply, till it's
pounding in his ears. What his mother was talking about, and Christine's
condition, and those boys that had been caught masturbating... It had all
been an abstract concept to him till recently, but now it looks like it
will become very real. The core of the new sexual ideology, the whole
point of the DHM, MPAs, and all the rest... that only adult, married males
ever have control of their own sexual relief, and even then only via their
spouse. That EVERYONE else, must be absolutely dependent on some other
person, for all their sexual needs. That they must accept the will of
another as the absolute ruler of every aspect of their sexual life. In the
case of legal minors, like himself, there will be one or more official
'moral guardians', with total, backed-by-law control of his sexuality. He
understands the reasoning, why this is a necessary remedy for the excesses
of selfish egoism that had produced the times of Troubles and nearly
destroyed the nation. But the practical implications, for him with new
guardians...
Those will be the husband and wife he's going to live with, starting
today. Then later his mom's sister and her husband. His mom was
officially his moral guardian up till now, but she left him alone to do as
he pleased. Lately he's been hearing of cases in the news, where parents
got into real trouble with the law for leaving their kid's sexual
development to chance. He'd wondered if it would ever affect him. He
still doesn't know where the Friths stand on this. But he'll surely find
out.
'Sexual development'... his blood pounds harder in his ears. He's read
the DHM brochures. For boys this means directly supervised 'ejaculatory
exercises', at intervals actually set by legislation, varying by age group!
For him at 17, it's maximum two per week, minimum one a month! Within that
range, totally the choice of his moral guardians. He can't imagine how
he'd feel after a month without cuming. The DHM policy manual actually
says the intention is to make boys as horny as possible, while allowing
adequate seminal draining for health, in order to maximize total erection
hours for optimal penile growth! Also to enhance seminal storage gland
volume, by simply stretching the vesicles with the pent-up accumulation of
copious teenage seminal production!
The guidelines for moral guardians actually say that, and go into detail
about the character building benefits of enduring imposed ejaculatory
denial over extended intervals. Not to mention the detailed instructions
on methods of enforcing such denial, while also maximising seminal
production rate via frequent supervised non-ejaculatory arousal and
erection exercises. Which means being teased to near orgasm, then left
unrelieved. 'As frequently as convenient without disrupting home, social
and educational schedules' it says! This all applying to 'baseline
sexuality' individuals, which means those without an MPA implant. For
those with an MPA, their entire sexual experience is software scriptable by
their moral guardian, in ways well beyond normal human capacity.
"Imposed ejaculatory denial"... no masturbation allowed! None, unless
actually instructed by his moral guardian. Then there's the part about
recommended exercises, and the strong encouragement that these be
administered or supervised by 'any female' assigned by or including the
moral guardian. Mothers or sisters, 'exercising' teenage boys for their
health! He daren't even think about how that part might relate to him, and
if that was what his mom was apologising for not doing.
Being brought to near orgasm, then stopping... in all the years he's
been masturbating, he's never tried that. He's thought about it a few
times, but then once he's sliding a tight fist up and down his stiff cock,
the pleasure and need gets the better of him and he's never able to even
remember he wanted to try it.
But now, standing naked and throbbing hard in his own home, for the last
time, there's a strong fascination with the idea. It seems quite possible
that he'll soon be finding out what it's like, and not at all by his own
choice. Maybe he should try it now, by himself, as an experiment? The
idea really appeals for some reason. He has to admit, the feel of his
cock throbbing hard and needy, untouched yet demanding touch, is very
pleasurable. Would it be even more so, if he was right on the edge?
Yes! He's got time to experiment with that for a while, then have a
relieving cum or two. He'll try it. But ah.... how? His bed is gone,
all the chairs are gone, there aren't even any tissue boxes around. No
hankerchiefs. He can't just jerk it out on the floor. The back yard is
fairly obscured by trees and fences, but not totally. The toilet seat
squeeks, and the lid sits badly against the cistern so it's not comfortable
to lean back. Ah! The shower! He's feeling a bit sweaty after the hot
bus ride back from the hospital anyway. He can wash and wank at the same
time.
He's so eager to start that he trots into the bathroom and steps into
the clear glass shower cubicle without bothering to close the bathroom
door. No one else home, doors are locked, mum certainly isn't going to turn
up (he wishes she could), and it's giving him a thrill to walk around naked
like this anyway. He turns the water on, adjusts it to a pleasant coolness
for the hot day, and begins both washing and slowly wanking. His washcloth
is packed away, but there's still a piece of soap in the holder. He
lathers his hands up and rubs them over himself, alternating with short
bursts of jacking his soapy right hand along his shaft in his usual manner.
Oh! Yes, it's doing something! Each time he starts and stops, the shaft
gets a bit more steely hard, the head more tightly swollen. It's feeling a
lot more urgent than usual already, which must be something to do with the
four days of bottled up spunk. He can almost feel it boiling inside,
demanding to be let out.
He'd long ago learned the trick of holding off orgasm by tensing the
internal muscles as if holding back urination. When aroused, deliberately
relaxing as if to allow piss to flow never actually releases piss but
instead seems to allow semen to draw down from the seminal vesicles into
the ducts leading into the prostate. That feeling, of these small tubes
filling up with semen, plays a critical part in the initiation of
ejaculation. It's as if the first contraction of orgasm is a direct
response to the nerve impulses signalling filling of the seminal ducts
within the body of the prostate. Keeping the muscles tightened applies
outside pressure on these ducts and prevents them dilating with semen, so
no contraction, no orgasm. The sensation of them filling is perceived
consciously as the very start of orgasm, but it also directly triggers the
contraction pulsations that form the actual ejaculaton process. It doesn't
seem to be reversible - once those ducts fill, orgasm is going to begin.
Today, determined to not cum until he's ready, he's holding things
tightly clenched inside. After a while of this, the feeling is amazing.
An incredibly strong urge to complete, to give his cock just a few more
rubs, so the aching pressure inside can blast out in the ecstatic
contractions of cumming. It's a kind of agonising torture of need and
pleasure, yet bearable because he knows he can decide to cum at any time.
He's wondering why he never tried this before, it's really good. Really,
really good! Just for an experiment, he tries relaxing the tensed muscles,
briefly. Oh! No no no... that was a mistake, he's going to....
almost... some semen 'let down' and he's teetering right on the edge of
orgasm. He can feel the muscles of his prostate twitching, alllllmost
sliding into the fullblown, unstopable orgasm. Ahhhhh the feeling of
intense fullness and urgency, it's incredible! But no... not yet. He
quickly shuts off the hot water tap, blasting himself with cold. The
teetering orgasm retreats ever so slightly, like he's not going to cum any
second. But still... so close. He stops touching himself completely, the
lingering almost orgasm is still there, still threatening to blast off any
time.
Urrrgh! So strong! Needs distraction! Steel-hard cock swinging in
front of him he turns off the water, steps out of the shower, and checks
his watch on the sink bench. 11:45am. He's still got over an hour. Good.
Unnnh! His cock is twitching in almost-cumming spasms. The urge to grab
it and give it one or two good strokes to send him over the edge is
overwhelming, intense. He's read that the MPA implants can induce feelings
described as 'the very edge of orgasm' but prevent actual orgasm, for
indefinite lengths of time. It's almost horrifying to imagine. To feel
this desperate, to be unable to end it, to know that it was going to
continue till your guardian decided it was enough. He can imagine some
guardians might not be motivated by the purest of love and concern.
Christine for instance. Was she feeling something like this? For a week?
Arrhhhh! That was a mistake, just thinking of the sexy girl's visibly
swollen pussy, dripping fluid down her legs, feeling _this_ horny, nearly
tips him over the edge. What can he do to back down a bit?
He walks out of the room, leaving wet footprints on the polished wooden
hall floor. He goes into his bedroom and paces about, but the room is
completely bare and has nothing to distract him. There's only the space
where his bed was, where he'd lain hundreds of times jerking off. The
lighter area of the wall where his desk and PC had been, where he'd done
his homework - and sat jerking off hundreds of times to downloaded porn.
The now empty built-in wardrobe, where his box of porn magazines had been
hidden behind a pile of junk. This isn't helping at all....
Going back down the hall he's in the living room again, and the small
pile of taped-up boxes just reminds him that soon... he'll be living with
a family who very likely are much more active about their Moral Purity Act
observance in their home than his mother. Bonnie is a friend of his
mother's from way back, and she'd often come over to visit them. Sometimes
she'd bring her kids Susan, Chad and Joshua, but he'd always found these
visits embarassing. Susan is two years younger than him, and thinks he's a
dork, always managing to sound superior despite her younger age. It's been
particularly difficult in the last few years as she really filled out. Now
she's 15 to his 17, a genuine sex-bomb, and she knows it. He can barely
manage to mutter a few semi-coherent words when she's around, and the
delight she takes in teasing and tongue-tying him with her nubile body is
positively diabolical. Chad and Joshua are 11 and 9, and seem to play
tag-team backup for their sister's teasing of Paul.
Thinking of them is having a mixed effect. Any time he concentrates on
Susan, his cock seems to teeter close to spontaneously spurting. Thinking
of the boys, and having to live with their sniping... yes, that works. He
concentrates on all the times they've been annoying and it works.
Gradually his cock feels less like an explosion about to happen. Not any
softer, just the dangerous brink-of-cumming twitching inside fades away,
and the feeling of backed-up semen demanding to spurt reduces to a less
trigger-happy level.
Yeah, it's really a very... sexy feeling. He should try this more
often. For now, perhaps going back to the shower, and tease it a little
bit more then rub out a couple of good ones. He walks back down the hall,
into the bathroom. Time, 12:10pm. All good. He gets back into the
shower, re-adjusts the water temperature. Then has an idea. There's
something he's tried here before, that has a very intense effect. This
will certainly be his last opportunity to do it. He wonders how it will go
with the teased urgency he's built up? Well, if it makes him come it
doesn't matter, there's not much time left anyway. He reaches up and
unscrews the shower rose from the metal pipe coming out of the wall.
What's left is a metal ball joint at the end of the pipe, a foot above head
height and pointing down about 45 degrees. The ball has a clean round hole
through the center, with the water flowing from it. It acts like a precise
nozzle, producing an even, solid stream of water from the hole. But this
quickly breaks up into large globs of water, forming a kind of lumpy jet
falling to the shower cubicle floor.
He stands in the right spot, holds his rigid cock lightly with two
fingers to either side of the glans, and positions it so the water stream
impacts directly on the opening at the tip of his glans. At waist height,
after falling several feet the water velocity is quite fast. It
immediately forces into his urethra and fills the passage, right back to
his prostate, expanding it out to the maximum. The stream is uneven, so it
impacts with a shudering, bumpy series of pulses. These pressure waves
transmit along the fluid-filled urethra and vibrate his prostate from the
inside. In addition the water pounding directly on the head of his cock
produces its own stimulation.
The effect is immediate. He's done this before, but always started a
long way from the point of orgasm. Usually this trick makes him fully
rigid and brings him to orgasm within a few minutes, even from a soft-cock
start. Not that he's often soft by the time he gets into the shower with
this thought in mind. But he's tried it. This time it only takes a few
seconds before he's gasping with closeness to orgasm again. He jerks his
cock away from the stream, shuddering with the effort of suppressing an
instant orgasm. He does not want to cum quite yet, but decided right now
that when he does cum, it's going to be from this. He's done this before
and the feeling of his spurts meeting the pulsing water head-on inside is
awesome. The contractions are enough to force both semen and water out,
but on every relaxation the water slams back in again, greatly intensifying
the ejaculation sensations.
But now his cock is twitching spasticly, small prostate contractions
building up... it's going to... no! No, not yet! A distraction, a
distraction... oh OK, wash his hair. It needs it... He grabs the soap
and lathers it in his wet hair. Ah good, thinking of something else is
working, the twitches are diminishing. But the feeling! He can't believe
how urgently and loudly his body is demanding "Let me cum, NOW!"
While he lathers he stands with his feet spread wide, consciously
undulating his pelvis in long, slow fucking thrusts, letting out the
feelings in slow sexual moans timed to the thrusts. Examining his body's
demand, savouring it, concentrating on the intensity of the pressure inside
him, and how much his cock screams for friction to go with the thrusts.
How the complete absense of any contact seems to exquisitely amplify every
other sensation.
He's thinking of what it would be like, for a boy with very strict
guardians who never let him cum. It's somehow very erotic to imagine
feeling like this then just stopping with no relief. Or being forced to
stop. He builds a little side fantasy; with himself being tormented like
that. Playing both parts he answers his body's moaning desire aloud "No
Paul, you mustn't come. Boy, you can moan all you like, but it won't get
you what you want. You have to hold it. You're not allowed to cum without
my permission." He switches back to playing himself, still thrusting in
air. "Oooooooooohhhhhhhhh... please... it's been so long... Soooo
fuuuulll......" For some reason he's getting a real buzz out of imagining
seeing himself from someone else's eyes, imagining her excited by seeing
his tortured need, his big rigid aching cock making hi..her proud and
horny.... ordering him to prove himself, to show how he could hold it no
matter how close his m... she teased him. He switches. "Well of course
you're full boy! I want you full, as full as you can be! You'll have to
get used to it won't you! We can't have you jerking yourself off when I'm
not around. Don't forget you promised! That's MY semen in you Paul, you
remember that now! I want you to hold it! Hold it all for me!"
This fantasy is making his pulse pound like he's having a heart attack!
He'd hardly started those lines when he admitted to himself that it's his
mother he's imagining. Some kind of stronger, willful mother, mixed with
his real, loving, dying mum. One who wasn't too timid to take her pleasure
in controlling his sex, one who'd masturbated and sucked him since puberty
on a strict, sparse schedule like a good mother should, showing her love
and care by making sure he was always horny like the other boys. Now
training him for the trials he'll face without her there to give him
relief. And because she trusted him so much, making sure his trials would
be as difficult as possible! The idea is at once terrifying and darkly
arousing. Making him hold 'her' semen! He doesn't have a clue where that
came from, but it makes him shudder with excitement. Imagine! She'd...
she'd... make him build up as much as possible... in a real, legal sense,
it is hers. And he did promise her. But really, he's very glad it's not
like that, and he'll be cumming in a few moments. Still, it's fucking
exciting to imagine. He's still rolling his hips, moaning softly as he
tries to imagine this feeling, but with weeks... no months of
accumulated pressure behind it.
The soap has lathered up thickly in his hair, and he's rubbing it around
with both hands, working the suds into his scalp. Normally he'd use
shampoo, but the bottle has been packed away. Every now and then he uses
pure soap, for the different feel it produces when his hair is dry. The
jet of water is still falling to the shower floor beside him, the loud
splattering sound fainter now his ears are full of thick lather. He
decides to play this whole thing to the extreme. Just a few more minutes
anyway.
"In fact... I want as much as possible in there son! You're to
exercise often and hard! Go right to the edge, till you feel like you'll
explode! Frustration, Paul, frustration! Keep your cock big and rigid and
full and horny, like a good boy who does what he's told. I want you
busting full with semen, never cumming for months and months! I want you
aching hard, standing up rigid and twitching with need, dripping with
pre-cum day and night, so all the girls and boys know how proud I am of
you."
Ooohhhhhh. The nastyness of the thought is setting him on fire. Having
to tease himself over and over, being erect all the time with no way to
hide it... Can he stand another go with the jet right now, before rinsing?
Let's see.... He takes one soapy lathered hand and grabs his rigid cock.
It seems harder than it has ever been, like a piece of stone. It will bend
at the base, but that's all. He strokes it a few times. "Ahhhhhhhhhh
oohhhhhh yeahhhhhhhh sooooo close! Ohhhhhhhh!" Then he stops, and takes
the head in the two fingered grip again. With his eyes closed against the
soap foam all over his head and face he can't see the stream, but can hear
and feel it. He centers his glans under the stream, allowing the jet to
pound inside him again. "AHHHHHHHhhhoooohhh! OH OHHHH GOD... DAMNN....
AAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" He keeps it there. This time the feeling isn't so novel,
and the combination of not really minding if he does cum, plus the new game
of pretending he absoluteley isn't allowed to cum, seem to have given him a
stronger resistance. He can actually let the water forcefully massage his
inermost sexual parts, and feel the hovering orgasm, but the two are only
moving together slowly, like giant ponderous objects. There's some
margin... even if he can barely think straight.
"NnnnnyyyaaaaAAAAHHHHHH! OHHHhhhhhhh..." "Yes Paul! T..Take iit! That
uhhh close enough for you? Do you want to cum? Well you can't!
Uuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh.... oh... I'm going to... to... OH NO you're
not! Not while I'm still here! You hold it boy!"
The imponderable objects were getting dangerously close, and he jerks
his cock from the stream, letting go of it entirely. In his belly the
pressure, the need to come feels like he might actually explode! With both
hands back lathering his hair, his hips are thrusting with a faster
desperation, his cock fucking air, untouched. He doesn't even try to stop
his hips, just takes it as more of the same message of horny extremis he's
really enjoying now. Next time, or the next, he'll let his cock cum.
"Hey Paul, that's an amazing technique. I didn't realise Holley was
training you so well."
He freezes. The voice is Bonnie's, and it's right there next to him.
The soap... he can't open his eyes... "Aww mum, it was fun watching him
exercise his little dicky. Did you have to stop him?" His soul drains out
through his feet. That's Susan. "It's not so little Suze!" "But she
didn't tell him to stop." That's Chad and Joshua. He's going to go
catonic, he thinks. Except his cock, that hasn't even taken any notice.
It just WANTS TO COME, and there's no room for anything else.
"Hey you guys, I'm done loading the boxes and we need to get going. Can
you hurry it up in here? He can do some more exercises at home, if he's
not finished his routine." Now it's Marvin Frith, Susan's dad. It sounds
like he's over by the bathroom door.
Bonnie: "Dear, I think we'll need to get a new shower head like that
one. Paul, show Marvin your trick."
Marvin: "But, there's no shower... oh, there it is. Why is the shower
head unscrewed? Is it broken?"
Susan: "Dad, it's for the water stream. Watch what he does. It's
funny!"
Bonnie: "Suze, I think he's gone all shy. You're the least dressed,
please help him rinse the suds off then demonstrate to dad."
Susan: "Ok mum. Oh... I guess he can rinse with just the water jet."
She steps out of her flipflops, pulls off her tiny white tank top, unzips
her lemon yellow microskirt and removes her matching yellow floral panties.
Completely naked she places her clothes on the sink bench and steps into
the shower, avoiding the water cascade. There's not a trace of hair
anywhere on her body below her neck, but the tight, neat slit between her
legs is belied by her very un-childlike curvy figure and the prominently
puffed up nipples on her grapfruit sized breasts. Paul has gone completely
non-compis, just standing there with his eyes closed under the suds, soapy
hands in his soapy hair, and a twitching rigid erection.
Susan steers him so his head is under the jet, and begins rinsing out
the soap. She's quick but thorough, making sure all the soap is gone. She
tells him to keep his eyes closed till she's done. After doing his head
and face, she washes down the rest of his body, hands first. He's still
standing there passively, hands at his sides and shuddering a little,
mostly at the hips.
When there's nothing left but some suds on his pubes and still rigid
erection, Susan stops, considering him. "Mum, you know if he sees, uh...
you know, it might set him off, even though he's trying so hard not to.
Can you pass me my ...uh... that?" She points to her tank top on the
bench. Her mum passes her the small tube of elastic material without
comment. Susan twists it into a double loop then stretches it over Paul's
head and lets it settle tightly as a wide blindfold.
"There. Don't want to spoil the effect. Now, just a little more..."
She moves Paul so the water jet is falling close by his pubes. Grasping
his erection in her right hand she splashes water from the stream onto his
groin, as she works her hand up and down his shaft and around his balls.
Here she's far less efficient, with a lot more sliding of her hand up and
down his shaft than the rinsing requires. Paul's hips shudder more firmly,
trying to start a rocking action in time to her sliding, but she keeps
changing her rate to prevent him synchronizing. At one point he fumblingly
tries to grab her wrists. "S... Susan, you shouldn't... do..."
She slaps his hands away. "Now Paul, you know mum and dad are here.
You heard mum. So I'm in charge of you just now. Hands at your sides
please and leave them there."
She's now begun something that isn't even faintly related to rinsing
him. Kneeling, she has her left hand cupped around his right bumcheek,
fingers in his crack. Her right hand is firmly stroking up and down his
erection, holding it nearly vertical and very close to the water stream.
"Dad, you missed the buildup part. He was jacking himself like this,
and we thought he was going to masturbate himself to orgasm. Such a
naughty boy moving in with us! So we all kept quiet, to see if he'd dare.
But when he got really close, he did this waterjet trick, and was repeating
what Holley must have instructed him, last time she managed him before
going into hospital. It's so sad.... She told him to keep exercising as
hard as he can, even though he has to hold it because she's not here to let
him cum. Poor boy, he's trying so hard."
She strokes him slowly a little more.
"He's nearly ready, I can feel it twitching. Mum, should I make him
pop? You and dad are his guardians now. It doesn't seem really fair. I
mean Holley went into hospital weeks ago, and she might... you know, no
one knows how long. Months even. Ohhh... months..." Susan's own hips
rock slowly, and she glances quickly at her mother. A slight shake of her
mother's head, and Susan sighs, spreading her kneeling thighs till her
knees are wide apart.
Marvin cuts in. "Suze, mum and I can discuss Paul's relief schedule
later. For now, I'd say better to honour Holley's wishes. Besides, we
really have to go in a few minutes. If you can just show me what you
wanted, then lets get moving."
"OK dad. Like this. He'd get himself edged, then... this!" She
suddenly holds his glans under the water jet, allowing it to pound into
him. She grips him firmly by his arse and penis, so he can't move much.
Paul throws his blindfolded head back, and moans loudly.
"UUuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnnhhhhhhhhhhHHHHHH! Uhhhhhhhhhnnnnnnnnnnn.... Oooooooo
I.... I..... can't..... please..... I'll..... uuunnnnnnnnnnhhhhh...
gonna....... gonna......"
Susan says very sternly to him "No you're not! Don't you dare come,
Paul Linden! If you come your mother will never forgive you! And you'll
get such a spanking...." She pinches his bottom hard, as she keeps holding
his cock opening in line with the water jet. "Uuuu....hhhhhh.....hhhhh
no... hhhhh..." He's panting rapidly. "uuuuu.... uuunnnooo...
uuuUUnnnNNNN UUNNNN... ARRHHHHH! uuuuu... uuuu...." He'd started panting
louder, and louder, but Susan grabbed his balls and squeezed them firmly,
as she jerked his penis away from the jet.
Susan leans close to his ear and says softly "Paul, when you are told
not to cum, then you are NOT. GOING. TO. CUM. Better get used to it.
Now..." She swings his cock back under the jet. This time she has her fist
wrapped loosely around his shaft just below the glans, while cupping his
balls in her other hand for long moments more, as Paul whimpers and moans.
"Oh god mummy! I can feel the water inflating and pulsing his pee hole,
all the way down his cock! It must be really working him over inside
there! But he's holding on! Oh mummy, sooo hot! Ooooo... I want to make
him practice this a lot, can I mummy? Pleeeeese? ooohh... yess.... I
can feel when he's getting close, he sort of shivers.... No Paul, uh uh
uuhhh! You prommmmmised!" She pulls him away from the water jet, and shuts
off the water.
Stepping out of the shower, she presses down on the top of his glans,
bending his cock down to below horizontal. Then lets her finger slip off.
His cock snaps back stiffly, vibrating around it's resting position for
several oscillations.
"That should do for now." She looks around. "Oh, mum, I... Hey,
there's no towels!" Before she's finished speaking, Chad and Joshua chime
in, in singsong unison. "Mum, Susan has a stiffiiieee!"
"Yes dears, I know she does. Ha ha... well Susan, I think you were
about to tell me, but they did beat you to it. I won't bend rules just
because there are no towels here. It solves the towel problem, anyway."
Bonnie picks up her daughter's skirt and panties, bunches them, and quickly
wipes her daughter's wet body down with them. She avoids the girl's
crotch, where the uppermost two inches of her now much more puffy labia are
now parted by a swollen mound down the center. The lower half of this is a
wetly gleaming stiff pink fat-ended finger, that sticks out from under a
cowling of taut skin covering the upper part. The thickened lower end
presses apart the labia, resting a little more outside than inside the
cleft. Bonnie presses a finger to either side of her daughter's labia, and
the clit pops forward, allowing the labia to come together behind it. When
Bonnie releases pressure the clit slips back inwards. Bonnie repeats this
several more times, as Susan gasps softly with each wetly slick movement.
"Ohh... Ohh.... Ohh... mum... oh...oooohhhh..." "Well Suze, if you'd
worries less about a towel, and remembered the rules, we wouldn't have to
be doing this. Now... boys, attend to her please. Be ready to stop when
I tell you."
The two boys fasten like limpets to her breasts, each of them wrapping
their hands around a breast and squeezing it, while they take her hardened
nipples in their mouths and suck greedily. Susan writhes, her head back,
groaning loudly. Then even more loudly as Bonnie presses two middle
fingers into the girl's lower slickness, slipping them deep into her
vagina. She searches for a moment, while still teasing the girl's clit.
"Ah, there... My! I think you must like Paul a lot huh? You're already
all swollen in here before I even touched it. Maybe we should change its
name from g-spot to p-spot? Tsk tsk... I'm really going to have to keep
an eye on you now, aren't I? Genitals anyone would think were _designed_
to make you cum just from walking, and now... a horny big-cocked older
brother you'll have to be exercising often. Several times a day, I gather.
Hmm... you're really getting close fast! Boys... stop now. You see how
she's flushed right down to her shoulders? Just a little more on the
p-spot, ha ha ha..."
She keeps moving her fingers inside the girl, carefully now, watching
Susan's face twist in the final stages approaching climax.
Meanwhile Marvin had reached into the shower and guided Paul out by the
arm. Taking the damp cloth of Susan's dress and panties from Bonnie, he'd
given the blindfolded, sexually shell-shocked teenager a cursory rub down,
avoiding all contact with the boy's spectacularly rigid, frustrated cock.
He'd then placed the stunned boy with his back to a wall, made him spread
his feet apart a couple of feet and place his hands on his head, then stood
by keeping one eye on the teenager and another (rather more) on the
treatment his daughter was receiving. He casually chatted to Paul, knowing
the youth wouldn't be paying much attention judging by the tortuous
frustrated thrusting of the boy's hips, the rigid cock stroking only air.
"So, Holly has some spine after all! I'm a little surprised, she seemed
such a meek one. Shows you never can tell, eh?" He's silent for a while,
watching his wife and sons tease his daughter close to orgasm. Paul can't
see it, but Marvin's trousers sport an impressive tent. After another
minute, as Susan seems to be approaching her climax he gives up trying to
ignore it. "Darn it. I can't drive like this!" He opens his fly and
reaches in, freeing his erection from its bent discomfort. He's rather
strangely endowed - about nine and a half inches in length, but the shaft
is disproportionately thin, being an oddly uniform stalk around one and a
half inches in diameter. In contrast the glans seems to have taken up the
missing bulk, looking like a fat round purple plum on the end of a stick.
The tip is barely pointed at all, while the thickest part is nearly three
inches across. He's not circumcised, but with the way his foreskin has
popped back tightly around his shaft just behind the bulbous head, it's not
easy to tell. Until he begins to casually stroke a closed fist up and down
the long shaft, the skin sliding easily as he watches the others.
Then Bonnie is satisfied with Susan's state of frustration. She pulls
her fingers from the girl, and stops squeezing her clit between the
slippery labia. She has one last thing to do. She slips a finger tip up
under the tight hood holding the girl's clit in a downward position. She
gives a sharp upward tug, stretching the hood up and back towards the base
of the trapped clit shaft. This frees the clit shaft, which is not
actually attached to the hood, and it springs out to form a straight finger
projecting from the apex of Susan's slit. The hood ends up bunched over
the upper side of the clit at the root, tightly pressing on it but unable
to exert enough leverage on the rigid stalk to pull it back down into her
slit. Now the 15 year old girl has a very penis-like two inch projection
sticking straight out, even with a pronounced bulb at the end.
Marvin: "Well, NOW are we ready? Seriously, I've got to be in the
conference call at two pm, and it's nearly one now. Come on, let's go!" He
grabs Paul by the arm. "Come this way. Oh, ha ha.. well, I should say
walk this way. I guess you'll be wanting to avoid cumming for a while,
eh?" He steers the naked, cock-swaying youth out of the bathroom and down
the hallway. "Better leave that blindfold on for a little while, till
you're not so close. I don't suppose you see all that many cute nude
aroused chicks, and Susan is quite something just now. Wouldn't want you
to have an accident in the car."
Paul is beginning to be able to function again. He stops walking. "Uh,
Mr Frith, I uh... my clothes, they're in a box by the door. Can I just
take this off while I get them?"
"Oh ho ho never mind Paul, all the boxes are out in the trailer already.
It's OK, only a short drive you know. Come along now, don't be difficult!"
Pauls seems like he's going to argue for a moment, then shivers and
starts walking again.
"I guess you weren't expecting us early, eh? Still no harm done, we can
give you a top-up session later today. I'm impressed by the way. Quite
ingenious. I'll definitely switch our shower head to one like that so the
girls can continue your mum's program for you. I can't wait to try it.
Well, except I'll have Bonnie make me cum that way. Did your mum ever make
you cum like that?"
Paul hesitates a long moment. Too much overload! He's still
desperately aching to come, he's about to be walked out into the front
driveway naked and erect, and now he has to try and not go along with some
completely wrong ideas these people have about his mother and his sexual
practices. It's too hard to think... What should he say? He's certain of
one thing - it can't be a good idea to admit he _was_ meaning to masturbate
to orgasm. And that he did it a lot. He'll have to pretend that they are
right... but that means... never mind! Answer him!
"Uh, yes Mr Frith... she did. A few times."
"Ha ha ha... Oh that's hot! Those horny single moms with teenage boys!
Everybody fatasizes about them. No husband so they're not permitted to
orgasm. But they have to exercise their sons. Taking her frustrations out
on you, eh? I bet she came up with some pretty kinky stuff! No wonder
she's got you on a long hard denial. I can really see her point. Having
you promise to keep _her_ semen in you - that's brilliant! Really
heartwarming! You'll have something to remind you of her love for you,
every minute of the days. At least until the DHM decides you need to be
drained for health reasons. But you needn't worry, I'm fully behind her
idea, and I'm sure Bonnie will be too. So leave the DHM to us. I read
semen doesn't ever really go _off_, it just kind of sets in place when it's
packed away a long time. Might be a bit hard to keep Susan from overdoing
it, but we know how to keep her under control. These your keys inside the
front door? Yellow tag?"
"Err... yes Mr Frith. Uh... there's..."
"Watch your step here, front portch. That's OK, you've no pockets now,
I'll take the house keys off for the agent on Monday, keep the rest for
you. You did a good job cleaning out by the looks of it."
Paul can hear cars passing by on the street, only a few meters away.
Voices nearby. That's.... ohhhh... it's Mrs Tubb and her 18 year old
daughter June, talking with Bonnie and Susan. June, a year older than him
and no interest in being friends with him at all. June, of the frequent
nude backyard sunbathing, who's father religiously exercised her without
orgasm once a day in the morning from 6.30am till 7am before breakfast.
Except on Sundays, when he'd usually exercise her several times through the
day, then fuck her with his wife's assistance once in the evening. Usually
she was required to orgasm then, but sometimes if her behaviour had been
bad she wasn't permitted. Paul knew about this because June was very noisy
when aroused, possibly because Mr Tubb would spank her if he felt she
wasn't expressing herself adequately. The weekday exercises were always
indoors, so Paul never saw them. But sometimes on Sundays, he'd exercise
her out on a pool lounge. A few times he and his wife had done her
once-a-week fuck there too. June was another long term fixture of Paul's
masturbation fantasies. From what he'd seen she was always exercised with
a large 'tennis ball' sized vibrator on a long handle, that was used on the
front of her pussy and breasts but never penetrated her. For the fucking
her mother would lay her on her back then pull her ankles back over her
head, lifting her spread crotch straight up. Mr Tubb would then enter her
and pound away. He seemed to have plenty of staying power, possibly
because of cialis or something like that. But Paul had seen Mr Tubb's
erection clearly a few times and it was probably no more than four inches,
and not very thick either.
He's hoping they can just get in the car and go. But Bonnie calls out.
"Marvin dear! Bring Paul over to say goodbye to his neighbours!"
Marvin mutters under his breath. "Time, time..." Louder: "OK dear, but
we absolutely have to go in a minute." He guides Paul in a new direction,
apparently walking him around the car.
Bonnie: "Marvin, I don't think you've met the Tubbs. This is Claire,
and June. My husband, Marvin. Ah, please excuse Paul and Susan, they've
just been exercised rather intensely, and probably won't be much good at
conversation for a little while."
Claire: "Hello Marvin, pleased to meet you. Bonnie has told me good
things about you. Mmmm..." She looks directly at his unusual erection,
still standing from his opened fly. "Tell me, is that... how it
originally came?s"
Marvin: "Ha ha ha... like it? No, it was fairly normal till a few
years ago. I was thinking of getting a piercing or something for Bonnie,
so I asked her what she'd like. She hunted around and found a new thing
called morphic moulding. The DHM had just approved it for public use, and
only one company has the patent. They've put their prices ridiculously
high since, but back then they had an introductory special so we could
afford it. It's not like plastic surgery, there's no cutting. They have
something that tells cells to flow a little, and they use molds and some
weird electric stuff to reshape tissue and change nerve connections around.
It actually makes the nerves feel more sensitive too, and they also did
some adjustments back in wiring so it... uh behaves a little differently
to normal. I let Bonnie write the specs, and for a while thought she might
have gone a bit far. But I've grown to like it, ha ha ha."
Claire is still staring at it, fascinated. "Oh? How different? If
it's not too personal?" Marvin: "Oh well actually I'd rather not--" Bonnie,
cutting in: "No Claire! Of course we don't mind, do we Marvin! You know
Mr Tubb is a little on the little side, so Claire is asking from genuine
interest. It's so great Claire! For one thing, once he's erect there's
only one thing can make him go down except coming. Otherwise it just stays
there! We've tested it out, and it absolutely does, for days! The longest
we've tried so far is four days. He refuses to try for longer than that.
Says the erection still feels nice, but the seminal urgency boy-thing gets
to him." Marvin: "Well that's because of the--" Bonnie: "Hush dear, I'll
get to that! There was one thing I specially asked for. If they couldn't
do it, I didn't want any of this. It took them a while to figure out how
to do it, and cost a bit more, but it was really worth it! I wanted his
whole cock to feel as good for him as it always had, but instead of almost
any stimulation done long enough being able to trigger orgasm, I wanted
just one, specific spot able to make him blow, and no other. Can you guess
where? Ha ha ha..." She grabs his cock in her hand and starts fondling him
vigorously. She grips the head and massages it, runs her fist tightly in
short up and down the shaft just behind the head. She keeps changing,
smiling at her husband as she shows him off to the Tubbs.
Both Marvin and Claire are breathing somewhat faster. Claire "Ah...
only the head?" Bonnie, cheefully: "Nope! Guess again!" Claire, tilting
her head, intrigued: "Um... the uh, frenulum? It's very sensitive, isn't
it?" Bonnie, joyful at winning this game: "Yes it is, but NO! I didn't
want to make it _easier_ for him to cum, silly! I wanted some _control_
over when he cums! And so....wait, we need to see a bit more."
She deftly undoes his belt buckle, and pushes his trousers down to his
knees. His conservative black underwear, with nine and a half inches of
rigid cock sticking through the front slit goes the same way after she
undoes the two buttons at the top of the slit. With him fully exposed now
she shifts her hand to the very base of the striking shaft of tubular rigid
meat. Forming a simple ring with her thumb and forefinger, she strokes
tightly up and down only about half an inch, actually pressing against his
pubic bone almost the whole time. The effect on Marvin is striking. He
gasps, his whole body stiffening and his hips thrust forwards. "Oh! Dear
are you... uhhhh sure... uhhhh you know it's been.... uhhhh..."
Bonnie: "Never mind him Claire. He's trying to say it's been three days
since he came, and the one more thing I didn't mention is that they were
able to permanently increase his production rate, a LOT. He makes over
10ml a day, and I can tell you, it was pretty funny for a while. Talk
about Mr Frantic! In less that a day! But we worked on it, and now his
storage is up to nearly five days. Right now he's holding maybe 30 or 40
ml. Not really uncomfortable yet, he's just starting to feel needy on top
of his usual horny."
Claire: "I'm not sure I... so, you don't have sex very often?"
Bonnie: "Oh no! Every day! For as long as we like and often several
times! Don't you get it? Look at him! He's well over nine inches long! I
don't know about you Claire, but I can't take more than eight inches
comfortably, absolutely nine maximium if he's pushing so hard it's really
hurting. And he's a dear, and would never hurt me. So he can pound my
pussy all he likes, that special spot is never going in!
No, the only way he can cum in me, is if I rub it for him while he fucks
me, or... I let him have a special treat, and fuck me in the arse. Either
way, can you imagine how that huge knob feels, thrusting up and down inside
you? It's extremely sensitive for him too, and the feeling sends him
practically berserk after a while, especially when I haven't let him come
for several days and he's really feeling the urgency. Isn't it brilliant!"
Bonnie is still slightly jacking Marvin's cock-root. He's panting and
jerking, going a bit red in the face. He again tries to get a word in:
"Claire.... if... huuuu... if you're going to huuuu m.. make me sh...
shooot hu... you maybe shhhh... shoould point it... huuu... away..."
She laughs. "Yeah... ha ha I should. ha ha... It's like a firehose
when it blows. Really, like a hose. Well, a garden hose anyway... Goes
right across the room. You should come round sometime and I'll show you.
Ha ha ha... Bring June and we can give her something solid to come on.
Oh, I see she's making friends with Paul... that's cute. But I'm not
going to make Marvin cum now. Sure June, you can touch him. But be
careful, he was very close a few minutes ago, and it's very important he
doesn't cum. Nice sized natural cock isn't he?"
Claire also notices her daughter, who sometime during the conversation
has reached between the metal rails of the fence and grasped Paul's
erection, pulling him closer to the fence. She doesn't say anything to
June, just looks back to Claire. "So this 'morphic moulding' - how much
size can it add?"
Bonnie: "Oh, I'm sorry Claire, I forgot... no, unfortunately it doesn't
work that way. It can only move bulk around, and then only limited. Same
tissue type to same, and so on. We were lucky; Marvin was pretty heftily
endowed already. We just kinda stretched it out." She stops teasing him
with her base-stroking and lets go entirely. He's left positively
strumming with tension, his bar and ball of a cock visibly vibrating with
rapid jerkings.
Claire replies wistfully: "Oh well. It's probably not suitable for the
elderly anyway. My husband is 59 you know. Not a young man any more. I
don't mind, but we're both becoming a bit concerned for June. She's a very
good girl mostly, and she exercises very passionately, but Mr Tubb can't
really do justice to her relief needs