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EE part 2
Easterling Esplinger
Dill lay back on his bed, rubbing and pulling his cock...oh, it felt so good,
and as he rubbed his frenum, the tiny area under his glans, he heard his bedroom door knock.
"EE dear?" Mother's voice
came through. "I'm home. Do you want anything? I bought some crullers at
the bakery." Mother was concerned, and a little worried about her son.
"No no, Mother, I'm just
resting in here, I'm fine" EE said with a smile in his voice. His mother
patted the door in a friendly way and went into the kitchen. EE knew that now
that Mother had been in therapy for seven years, she still felt terribly guilty
about the way she'd raised him, though he told her time and again that he
thought it had done him good.
EE's mother had had a nervous bipolar disorder, and when EE
had upset her or pissed her off when he was young, she'd always retaliated by
making him strip and giving him fifty with the hairbrush and another
twenty-five with a razor strop.
Then she'd make her sobbing son dress in his sister's pink
and white party dress, tied with a ribbon in the back, and make him put on Mary
Janes with high white knee socks.
Mother then would drag EE out into the street, down to
the vacant lot where the gang was always playing stickball or
shooting craps. "Look boys...my little girl here forgot to do the dishes
again" Mother would say as she shook her boy in his pink dress in front of
the laughing kids.
"Can I borrow your leather belt, Johnnie, to show
little princess here how to act?" Sometimes there would be some tough
looking girls there along with the boys, and one would pull her belt off and
hand it to Mother, who would pull EE's panties down for yet another whipping.
This of course ensured that EE didn't have many friends
until he went away to boarding school...and then he was routinely humiliated by
Mother whenever he came home. Sometimes she would put him in adult diapers and
make him sit in the yard, for hours.
EE recalled once when a group of black cheerleaders from the
vocational high school had come by and thrown empty cans and bottles at
him..."Diaper boy you are SUCH a
faggot" one had said, aiming a Nehi bottle at
his head.
This life had not stopped until EE was
twenty years old, when Mother had gone to the hospital for a suicide attempt.
All the abuse had come out, and she'd gotten therapy, and had never quite
finished apologizing to her son for what she'd put him through!
EE just felt that life had gotten boring after Mother got
well. He'd really felt that a little discipline wasn't a bad thing...but things
were different now!
Now, EE lay back on his bed, toying with his balls and
pulling his cock. It had been nearly a week since Mistress Olivia had
reamed him out over the phone for begging to cum...Truly, EE loved edging his
cock! But it would have been so nice to get to squirt. Now she was making him
send her money, just for asking!
But still, EE was quite the jerk-boi.
Before he'd discovered the joys of masturbation uninterrupted by orgasm, EE would
always wear his poor dick out, cumming three or four tiems a day and then having little else to do.
Kelsey, EE's little sister had first interested EE in
longtime sexual teaseing when, after one of their
adolescent sex games, she'd forbidden EE to jerk off.
"You are so disgusting, EE" Kelsey had said as
she'd bound EE's wrists to the headboard of her bed. EE was furious. He'd spent
three hours licking Kelsey between her legs, and giving her about twelve
orgasms...and now she'd tied him down and was getting dressed!
Kelsey had left the room for about an hour, and come back,
eating an ice cream cone in front of EE...licking it slowly as she smirked at
him.
This had driven him wild, and finally, as she'd finished the
cone she'd squatted between his spread legs on the bed, tossing her ash-blonde
hair over a tanned shoulder.
As Kelsey's breasts had heaved in giggles in the pink tube
top, she'd begun jerking EE's dick, up and down, letting her French nails
tickle and stroke his pulsating penis, pulling an adorably small thumb up and
over his glans.
Suddenly she'd begun rubbing faster and faster, and EE had
felt the semen rising. He'd moved his hips about, moaning and groaning...it was
coming, this was it!!!!
But then, just as he'd been about to cum, Kelsey had pulled
her hand away, and his dick had just swung in the air, with no stimulation.
EE had laid their and gasped for nearly two hours as Kelsey
had jerked him faster and faster, pulling her hand away just in time before he
was about to spurt, until finally the very last time she'd jerked real fast,
and he'd shot himself in the face with his sperm, and she'd fallen off the bed
laughing.
Eventually Kelsey had found a boyfriend she liked playing
with more, and EE had been left to his own devices. He'd dated a bit, but found
that it was more comfortable to just be alone with his dick, fantasizing about
women that he'd met here and there, or just seen.
For instance right now, as EE lay on the bed with his purple
dick in his hand, he thought of Miss Mimms, the tough
looking secretary who worked for EE's boss. She sat outside the boss's office,
cracking her gum, tossing her teased strawberry curls, and breathing heavily,
making her huge breasts bounce in usually a tight cashmere sweater.
Sometimes EE would hear Miss Mimms
talking to her girlfriends on the phone, and she was not stingy with words like
fuck, ain't and asshole. "Who the fuck that
asshole think he is," Miss Mimms would say
angrily "takin' me to some cheap-ass
show!" Then her long nails would drum on her desk, and EE would
often run to the bathroom, pull his pants down in the stall and pump his dick,
fantasizing...
That Miss Mimms was sitting on a
stool tapping a hairbrush against her palm as EE stood in front of her, stark
naked. In the fantasy, Miss Mimms was wearing a black
leather catsuit with miniskirt...
"Get over my knees you asshole" the fantasy
Miss Mimms would say, as her lacquered lips popped
her gum, "Yer gettin'
the whippin' of yer
life." And then, as EE jacked his dick, the fantasy EE would go over Miss Mimm's knees, his penis scraping her miniskirt, as he
endured the vicious whipping of the hairbrush.
Then the fantasy would move to EE being in tears, rubbing
his buttocks as Miss Mimms toyed with his stiff,
purple penis, scraping it and pinching it. "Who the fuck you think you
are, you horny bastard?" the fantasy Miss Mimms
would say...
Now, EE lay on his bed where he could jerk even easier, and
thought of Miss Mimms in the sundress she'd worn that
morning at work, and what it would be like to be bound and trapped beneath her
high heels, one heel pounding in his scrotum as the other punctured the glans of his cock!
Other times EE thought of a mysterious woman he'd seen
repeatedly on the subway...the Tank Top girl...her boobs hung in a different
tight tank top every day, and she had such a bored, sexy look that EE would
dash to be on the same car as she was, even if he had to stand and hold the
metal bar and stare at her, instead of sitting in an empty seat five feet away.
EE often fantasized, as he lay in his bed, rubbing his
bloated penis, about the Tank-Top Girl thrashing him with a razor strop,
turning him over after his buttocks were bloody and using the belt end on his
penis...sometimes EE would tie a little string around his penis and balls and
pull it to make his dick even more engorged as he jerked, thinking of the Tank
Top girl, who, on Tuesday had complemented her tank top with a leather
jacket...
He'd imagined her whipping and kicking him as he lay naked
and crying before ordering him to be raped and beaten by an imaginary group of
male Hell's Angel's. Other times he'd imagine Tank-Top Girl putting out her
Marlboro Light on the tip of his penis...
Then there was a woman in a toll booth who
he'd fantasized about for months, and the next door neighbor's piano teacher,
who winked at EE occasionally.
Now and then EE went out on dates with actual women, but he
never got much out of it. As his fantasies were all about lower-class girls
with big hair who were dominating, he had little interest in the women who
liked him.
These were usually small breasted girls who didn't wear much
makeup and tended towards long dresses and Birkenstock sandals. They made great
friends--hey, when EE wasn't jerking himself, he liked to talk about politics
and literature and the environment...but to have sex with these women was
usually a terrible disappointment.
EE just didn't have much interest in rolling around on a bed
with a flat-chested woman whose ideas came out of
"Nation" magazine...much better for him to roll around on the bed by
himself, jerking his rigid cock and thinking about a surly teenager who'd
twitched by him, waving her ass and shooting a cigarette butt into the
street...
EE grasped his shaft and tried to bend his dick. Oh it was so hard. EE rubbed up to his glans
and back down, and thought of the little hotties he'd
seen that day.
One girl had come out of a dance studio cursing a blue
streak about something... not more than twenty years old...oh, how EE would
love to have her mad at him, ordering him to strip and kneel prostate before
her as she pulled out a cat o nine tails!
EE's life of fantasy was better than most guy's
reality he thought...but it sure would be nice to have a real dominant girlfriend!
Colette shifted her 323 pound body on the now gasping
beanbag in the corner. "Can we get some pizza,
Colette laughed. "Yee-ah. Th' German dude.
He-he felt guilty about jerking his dick that I made him cut the wire on his
lamp, plug it in and give hisself little shocks...he
sent us 200 euros. But we hadda pay th' gas bill. Now I want some
pizza, and I want it
Colette reached for the phone.
Violet looked at her watch. The doorbell would be ringing it
just a moment. She looked at her cane, and re-adjusted her adorable tube-top.
This was a new way of making the bacon, she thought, but
BZZZZZZZZ! There was the bell. Violet washed a Dilaudid down with the last of a Samuel Adams Honey Porter
beer and went to answer the door.
Good God. There was a man wearing a trench coat and bright
red pumps with six inch high heels. "You E.E.
Dill?" Violet asked, scratching her chin. It sure wasn't the
Jehovah's Witnesses.
EE looked at Lady Violet with adoration.
EE shuffled in on the high heels, stopping at the couch.
"Mistress Olivia called me and told me to come see you, Lady Violet."
he said hesitatingly.
Lady Violet looked at him and held out her hand. "And the tribute, scum-bag?"
EE reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat
and pulled out one thousand dollars in small bills, just as Mistress Olivia had
requested.
"This is an awfully big tribute." EE had said,
hesitatingly. His salary was quite munificent,but a thousand dollars was more than he was used to
giving. Unfortunately, it was Mistress Olivia's only condition upon which he
might--MIGHT get to orgasm tonight.
Lady Violet took the money from EE, laughing. "Yes,
it's a bit much, and actually I plan on burning it on an altar in the back
room. This is just to show your commitment to me, slug. But now, take off your trenchcoat."
EE hesitated, saw Lady Violet's brow furrow, and dropped the
trenchcoat on the floor... Lady Violet took one look
at him, and began laughing, her heavy breasts bouncing in the tube top.
EE knew he looked ridiculous. He was naked except for the
heels, and covered in rat-traps.
Lady Olivia had ordered EE to purchase one hundred rat traps and put them all over his body...on his shoulders,
his nipples, his stomach, his back, his elbows, snapping up the loose flesh on
his arms and legs, and of course there was one hanging cruelly from the end of
his penis and three on each side of his shaft.
And five traps on his
testicles, to the point that he'd had to walk with his legs bowed the entire
way to Miss Violet's apartment. On his back, buttocks and thighs the traps
lined up like dominoes--how EE had been able to put them on himself had been a
near miracle.
Lady Violet stepped up, swinging her cane lightly and
snapped the first trap off EE's shoulder, and he bit his lip.
But all good things come to an end, and finally, as EE lay
sobbing on the floor, Lady Violet knocked the very
last trap off the back of his right knee.
"So now you expect to cum, is that it? Olivia told
you...what, that if you came over here in this ridiculous get up of rat-traps
that I'd let you cum once they were knocked off?" Lady Violet laughed
casually as she slapped her cane into her right hand.
She walked up and down the room, laughing, and watching EE
sob and squirm on the floor. He had been a right loud little crybaby,
especially when she'd gone for his nipples and genitals...what fun it had been
slapping off those rat-traps, two and three at a time.
Several times, EE had run from her, but Violet, who had been
a long-distance sprinter when serving time at the Texas State Industrial
Reformatory for Girls, had easily caught up to him and knocked more traps off.
But now she looked down at EE Dill. As she did, she heard
some girlish laughter coming from the hallway. The teenagers down the hall were
playing Hackey Sack, a game where three people kick a
small felt ball back and forth, in the hall...Three laughing seventeen year
olds.
"Well, if you want to self-abuse, you'll have to go out
in the hall to do it." Lady Violet said. "You can do it in the hall,
or wait a month, and come back to see me with another thousand dollars,
dear."
EE jumped up and went and stuck his head in the hall. Coming
back he said, "I can't do it out there...there are young women playing
with a ball."
Lady Violet laughed. "Well, good luck for next
month!" and EE Dill burst into frustrated, angry tears.
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