BDSM Library - Story: Captain Creame, Chastity Slave, Chapter: Part 2

I ended yesterday’s entry with finding out that Ron was sitting in my office, because I was too overwhelmed to discuss the news of what happened later that afternoon. I expected to see Ron with his feet on my desk, tapping the Spencer paddle in his hands, but he was sitting seriously, and arose to give me a warm hug. Instead of doing his usual interrogation about where I’d been for several hours, he sat me down and told me that he was moving to some town in Ohio, to be with Egbert, a man Ron met through a personals ad in the SandmUtopian, a D&S rag. I still recall the ad, it went like this,

“ Generous Slave-Boy, 58, ISO young Master or Mistress to be keyholder for my chastity tube. I will go about my business with my tube on, and once a month come to a place of your choosing to go through humiliation/punishment sessions, followed by extensive tease/denial training, in return for getting the key. Will pay 2500 for each weekend we participate.”

I mean, Egbert is the owner of a huge jar-lid manufacturing company, and his pic is in Newsweek and Fortune all the time. He gives Ron something like two or three grand for the weekend, and I don’t know what pissed Ron off, but once I went over there, and met Eggy, and Ron told him “Egbert, you rotten Egg…you are going to suck Slave Creamy’s cock for having been such a worthless fuck.” And this distinguished looking fellow with a gray mane blew me to three orgasms while Ron bent down and burned the jar-lid CEO’s poor penis with a car cigarette lighter. The trips had grown longer and longer, and Eggy had had Ron to San Francisco twice, but I was surprised, and frankly sad that Ron would leave. It’s been difficult being his cum receptacle and his whipping boy, but he is my nephew, and a good kid in spite of it all. “I’m in love, Uncle.” Ron said solemnly…and I retorted in a rare burst of impudence, “In love with his wallet.” Ron had grinned and told me to meet him at home in ten minutes.

Ron saw my face as he met me in front of our house, alighting from his bike as I got out of the Beemer. “There’s good news, too Uncle Creamy.” When we got into the vestibule, Ron ordered me to undress, and it was not for me to question why. When I got into the living room, I got a huge jolt. There was Egbert, kneeling, naked as a jaybird as well, Mommy and next to her Pamela, and they were talking as if they’d known each other for years. Pamela looked up at me and smiled, and alarmed, I tried to cover myself and step back into the vestibule, but Master Ron stuck his lit Marlboro into my buttocks and I screamed, and jumped forth again. Mommy smirked, but Pamela smiled warmly. “Pa…Pamela…I’m so sorry….I can explain.” It couldn’t have been too much of a shock for her, as Then Pamela stood up, and came over, taking my hand. “Darling, it’s all right. I know everything. I met Ron actually, several weeks ago.” She gave me a hug, and my cock swelled in its piercing. Pamela was wearing a minidress, and it was difficult to behave like a gentleman.

I realized of course that Pam had already had the exposure that day to the piercing, but now she said she’d known Ron for several weeks? Mommy looked at me and sneered. “Pam, honey, sit back down on the sofa…Sonny, get on your knees next to Gramps there!” Tears welled up in my eyes. I wanted to sit next to Pamela on the couch. I felt a whack to the back of my head and looked at Master Ron, who snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor, and I sunk down, my lip trembling, realizing that no matter what else happened, these women, my mother and the girl I love, are clothed and comfortable on the sofa, and all I get is nudity on the hard floor. I looked over at Egbert who was staring at the floor.

Eggy’s penis was fully erect, and I noted all these little red marks on the shaft and glans, and realized that they were cigarette burns. Ron collapsed in my LaZ-Boy, and Egbert turned and quietly began licking Ron’s boots. It was odd to see this dignified fellow, according to the Fortune article, Eggy, product of the Social Register and a grad of Choate and Dartmouth, bending and licking the filthy boots of a tattooed parolee currently enrolled in the adult literacy program at the local junior college. But Eggy’s tongue was cleaning mud off Ron’s boot heel as if it were a mint chocolate chip ice cream cone. Eggy’s cock was bursting, and this apparently irritated Ron, who didn’t like to leave his slave-boy out of the chastity belt too long…Ron kicked Eggy away from him and said “Go get me the car cigarette lighter out of your Jag, Eggy.”

Egbert looked somewhat alarmed. “Th-the cigarette lighter, Master?” He had reason to be upset, I thought…on the night that Ron had Eggy fellate me, Ron made Eggy run out and heat up the cigarette lighter about six times, making ugly little burns all over his groin and backside. You could still see the scars. Ron looked grim. “I feel like branding you, Egbert…are you arguing with me?”

Egbert looked alarmed. "Sir, do you want me to put some clothes on?" Egbert was a prominent person in his community, and even in this one, it would be a tad embarrassing to have a gray haired CEO jumping about naked on the porch. "Please, sir, can I at least put on my shorts?" Ron laughed again and hit Egbert with a roundhouse slap that knocked him down, much harder than he'd ever hit his Uncle Creamy, and Egbert rose, crying, and left the house, running to the car and running back to the house. But Ron leaned on the door as Egbert hammered it desperately. Ron finally let Egbert back in the house, grinning, and Eggy ran in and handed Ron the oblong cigarette lighter., you know, the kind that you push in and it glows red at the end to light your cigarette.Ron held the lighter in one hand, and made a hand signal, and Eggy stood at attention, as if he were a Buckingham Palace guard who’d taken up streaking. I turned to see how Pamela was taking all this, but she sat with her hands folded as if viewing a slide show on Monet.

“So, Uncle Creamy…I followed you and Pamela around a couple of times, and then I had lunch with her…this was right after Eggy proposed we move to San Francisco and get married…we can do that there now…” Ron pushed the cigarette lighter into the purple glans of Eggy’s straining cock. It had been a while since Eggy had cum, I remembered. Ron had been training Eggy for fourteen months, and felt that even if Eggy went through his training, tease torture, and all that, AND paid his fee…that didn’t mean Ron had to give him an orgasm…so more often than not, and certainly for the last four months, Ron had put Eggy on the plane home to Ohio on Sunday as orgasm-less as he’d been arriving the Thursday night before. As Ron pushed the lighter in further, I could smell the searing flesh a bit, but Eggy just threw back his shoulders and didn’t make a move. He knew that if he began whining, Ron would whip him, and probably wouldn’t give Eggy his four hours of lubricant teasing back at Eggy’s suite at the Ritz.

As Ron continued to burn Eggy’s cock, he went on with his talk. “You’d be surprised, Eggy…Pam doesn’t have a brother-in law who owns the motel at all…I put the three days of motel time on Eggy’s card, and told Pam about your need to be teased, denied and chastitsed.” Eggy was gritting his teeth as Ron pushed the lighter closer into the suffering mushroom head of Egbert’s penis. “Pamela has passed her tests with flying colors, and now I feel like I can leave you in her capable hands, along with Grandma’s while Eggy and I move to his house in Berkely.” Eggy screamed involuntarily, and Ron pulled away the cigarette lighter…and yessir, there was a nice little brand there on the side of the glans, right near the tiny piss hole. Red and angry, it was, and it would stay. Ron told Eggy to find some ice cubes for his wee-wee, and continued. “Eggy and I are leaving tonight, actually.”

I gasped “Tonight? You’ve just told us all this…Ron, you’re my nephew…and my Master. I love Pamela, but,you’ve been topping me since your eighteenth birthday!” Pamela motioned for me to stand, but I crawled to her and began stroking her feet, and she smiled. “Darling, I know you’ll miss Ron,but I have a good idea of what your needs are…you need a disciplinarian, a loving disciplinarian to complement the hard work your Mommy does on your behavior.” I looked at Pamela with tears in my eyes. “I had thought…we could have a normal…relationship.” I mouthed the word “blowjob” (Mommy doesn’t allow anyone but herself to utter profanity) and Pamela shook her head, smiling. “ I don’t think so, darling…I have needs too. I want to find a wonderful, generous man, like Egbert, who will care for me and spoil me, and understand that I enjoy dating all sorts of people, even AFTER marriage…”

That evening, Ron, Eggy, Pamela and myself went to a dungeon he’d rented for this occasion, and he showed her lots of tricks…too many. I said good night and goodbye to Ron with tears in my eyes after the dungeon session. Pam took me back to her place, after all that, and cuffed my hands behind my back, and my feet together, and then took the keys that Ron had given her, and unlocked my piercing…she dipped her soft hand with its long red nails into a bowl of Lubriderm, and stroked me enthusiastically until nine this morning, when I was re-locked and sent off to work, still chastised, frustrated, but quite in love with this remarkable woman!

I am writing this from Pam’s PC..I am over here, and in a couple of days we will be moving back to the house to live with Mommy, as Pam says she can’t manage me alone…oh, what next?

Captain’s Log: Friday, February 27, 2004

11:02 pm

Well, today Pamela and I both took the afternoon off…we need a weekend to explore. I started the afternoon off pretty well…Ron gave me back my credit cards and control of the bank account, though of course Mommy is a joint holder (if not joint contributor) I took Pamela to a jewelry store and bought her a ruby pendant, the kind that is surrounded by little diamonds, that I thought would go well sloped over her breasts, and I had my arm around her while she tried it on, the owner mumbling all those ridiculous sales phrases. She gave me a huge kiss afterwards, and I figured I was in!

We went to her place, where I kind of hoped we might get it on, I don’t know why, after what Ron told her. Pamela is a gorgeous woman, with swept blonde hair and she’s quite curvy. I had really enjoyed kissing her bare breasts earlier in the week, but today Pamela was dressed in a snug turquoise top that she’d bought in Brazil, where all the women, I think dress like tarts. Pamela is the webmaster for our investment firm, and thus is allowed to dress a little less formally than everyone else, and so she also had skintight jeans on, and these cute blue high heels. When we got into her place, I tried to put my arms around her, and Pamela gently pushed me away. “No, no, Creamy…” Pamela smiled and guided me to the bedroom, and I began getting rather excited..was this it?

“I’m going into the bathroom to touch up, sweetheart, and I want you to strip and lie face down on the bed.” What was this? “Yes, ma’am.” I said without thinking. I really had hoped to dissuade her from her S&M interests till at least I could screw her once, after all that teasing at the motel. But I sighed, and stripped, and lay face down on the bed. I was still in my chastity piercing. This has its advantage in that I have more movement in my cock, but on the downside I can also twiddle and half-masturbate my cock, which is extremely frustrating. I lay there for a time, and wondered whether Pamela would come out naked, or in some sort of lingerie…but she came out wearing everything she went in with, including the shoes. What happened to the wanton girl who stripped for me in the motel?

“Now, Creamy…I’m going to secure you.” I looked up at her suspiciously. “What-what do you mean?” Pamela smiled and cuffed my hands with a pair of police handcuffs Ron had given her, and then put a second pair on my ankles! Ron knew this trick; when he would play his long fingers over my cock for hours, he noticed that when I moved my legs around it sometimes worked to my advantage when I wanted to cum…so locking them together made me completely helpless unless he wanted me to cum, and usually then I had to do it manually on my knees. Also, when Ron was giving me a whipping face down, hands cuffed, he would cuff my ankles so I couldn’t move about…hey, I’m face down now!

I looked up, and Pamela was fluffing a pillow, which she put under my crotch area so my butt stuck up…just like Ron did when he was about to discipline me. But I bought her a fuckin’ RUBY! With DIAMONDS! It was about seven hundred dollars! Why would she whip me? She just squealed when I got her the pendant! But I looked up and there it was—Ron’s Spencer paddle, a big, rectangular evil looking thing with holes like Swiss Cheese throughout the polished inlaid wood. Pamela smiled at me. She tapped the paddle in her hand. “Ron says that you are manipulative and don’t always behave well, and you need constant training. He says you’ve got to be corrected or you take advantage of people, Creamy.” I had a hard time looking up to her, as I was cuffed and on my stomach, but I tried. “Pamela! What do you mean? I’ve treated you like a princess! I got you jewelry, we went out to dinner last night after leaving the dungeon, I only want to be good to you—“ Pamela shook her head. “Oh, Creamy” she said sadly. “Don’t you think buying me this ridiculous thing—“

Pamela lifted the diamond encircled ruby pendant off her cleavage and then dropped it again”—shows you were trying to manipulate me into going to bed with you this afternoon?” Pamela shook her head sorrowfully. “Oh, Creamy, my sweet boy.” This from a child of twenty-seven—“what am I going to do with you…” Pamela laid the paddle gently on my right asscheek, where the wood felt rather cool. She rubbed it around a bit. God I couldn’t move. “I like it when you buy me gifts, Creamy” Pamela smiled, “But I must teach you not to manipulate me!”

WHACK WHACK WHACK I couldn’t believe how hard this 110 pound beauty was swatting me…she had at least the power of my muscular nephew. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK Pamela neatly swatted each cheek in turn, quite unlike Ron’s sloppy slams across my ass. Her dexterity with the Spencer was like nothing I’d ever experienced…and much, much worse. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK …

Within seven minutes of the first stroke, I was bawling. Outright bawling. This was so embarrassing. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK. Pamela was implacable. The crying didn’t seem to matter, and she never inqujired whether or not I had a safeword (not that I’d ever been allowed one) WHACK WHACK WHACK I kept trying to move around on the bed, but my hands and feet were cuffed, so all I really could do was jump, like a rabid garter snake, falling right back in the same place on the bed. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK. I began screaming for her to stop, just screaming…and finally Pamela laid the paddle down.

I figured now she was going to roll me over and tease me, but instead I felt the handcuffs being unlocked and then the ankle cuffs, and she helped me up, and I cried in her arms for a few minutes. “D..don’t you want to tease me…do anything” I sobbed. “No, Creamy…”Pamela whispered in my ear. “I want you to remember not to be so arrogant and manipulative, sweetheart.”

So then we sat around (I stood) reading books, and at some point Pamela asked me if I would mind doing some dusting…she had a look in her eye. I dusted and vaccumed the apartment, and cleaned the bathroom, and then took Pamela to a nice restaurant for dinner. She said “Drive to your house, please.” I drove us to my house. “Get out of the car, Creamy. I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.” Oh, no, not that house, with Mommy…”But Pamela, it’s Friday night!” I begged. “Have you no feelings? Can’t I stay the night at your house?” I looked so hangdog, and Pamela laughed. “I would, Creamy, but I have a late-night visitor…I’ll see you Monday.” This was even more of a shock. Monday? I thought we were going to be living at her house, and I was going to have to spend the weekend with…I turned and the door opened, and Mommy was looking out, smiling. “Come on in, you bad boy…Pamela let you go tonight, didn’t she? She’s probably after more compelling company…Come on in, and you can paint Mommy’s toenails...and then we can play dress-up baby! I've been to that store, Innovations again for you...” I trudged in the house with my head down tears streaking my cheeks, my butt was blistered and my penis struggled in its chastity piercing.

Captain’s Log: Saturday, February 28, 2004

Oh, God…last night with Mommy was so depressing…she had me come in, and she saw me sulking…”Oh, honey. Sometimes a girl wants to go out with a regular guy, you know? It’s not your fault, and now you and Mommy can have fun together.”

Mommy must be attracted to me, and I to her. She was wearing this little shimmy thing, and her cleavage was bursting out of it, and I think Pamela must have called her to tell her that I would be dropping back in. Mommy made some more maternal comments that weren’t very helpful, and then she made me strip off my clothes until I stood there, naked in my chastity piercing. I was still quite aroused by all I’d been through, and swollen, but I was pouting and staring at the floor…I couldn’t believe this! Back to Square One! I wouldn’t have dared be this obviously upset if Ron had been there, but Mommy took charge, she sure did.

“Are you upset, baby?” Mommy sat me down on the couch and told me to sit on my hands, as she unlocked the chastity piercing. “Goodness, look at that stiffie!” My cock rose like a metronome, swinging back and forth, and Mommy began toying with it, her long purple nails teasing the head, and twiddling the straining shaft. She rubbed it for a minute or so, and I got very hot and pulled out one hand to help her and SWAT! Across my face Mommy’s hand went. I began to cry, which was even more embarrassing, and then Mommy swatted my already welted rear end with her elephant’s tusk hairbrush, and took me to the bathtub, and put me in, filling it with ice cold water. My teeth began to chatter, and Mommy took a bucket and poured some more water over my head, and then took this itchy scrubby thing and began scouring me all over

It hurt so much, the wire thing scrubbing me all over my crotch, and of course my crotch was completely shaved, Mommy takes care of that, though she hadn’t this week, and there were just a few hairs, She took me out of the tub, still sobbing a bit, and rubbed me down with a rough towel, and then brought me into her room, which has always been a place of trepidation for me…

I can remember as a little boy bringing Mommy her tea in there while she was in bed, and if I dropped a thing, look out! Mommy laid me down on my bottom on the four poster bed, and found some ropes. “Mommy, please.” I begged. “No, no, sonny boy..you know how you like to squirm around when I’m shaving you !” Mommy doesn’t want to have to get her hairbrush again.” I quieted down, and Mommy attached my four limbs to the posts, and there I was again, just like always.

Mommy put a pillow under my head, and sat down at the foot of the bed with some Edge shaving cream (get it? Edge) and a razor and lifted my swollen cock up with two purple talons. She then began shaving my crotch, and she did a thorough job, all over the scrotum, under the balls, everywhere. After she was done with this, she put the shaving stuff away and brought out some rubbing alcohol, and spread that on, which stung a bit, and then came the baby oil. “Now, honey” Mommy said to me tenderly.

“Mommy’s going to make that bad spot go away!” Mommy began rubbing the baby oil into my scrotum with her long fingers, and pulling my hard cock slightly with her other hand…I began to breathe through my mouth, quickly. Well, Pamela hadn’t given me any action down, here, but a boy can always count on his mother!.

And finally it was done.

“There we go.” Mommy said approvingly. “Just like a newborn baby” I winced. I have been shaved that way every week by Mommy since I hit puberty…I remember complaining about it to Ensign Benson when I was in the Navy…and Ensign Benson who was my subordinate at work but my Master at home, thought this was great, and hygienic, and he began doing it too. “Just a crisp shave there, Captain, sir.”he’d say, as he scraped it all off…if I complained, out came the strap!

Mommy completed my shave and rubbed my cock and balls thoroughly with witch hazel, which stung…and then out came the baby oil. “I know you’ve been through a lot, Sonny.” Mommy sounded regretful.”I can’t believe you want to run around with those girls instead of staying home with Mommy…look at the condition of your wee-wee.” She

began rubbing the baby oil into my cock, stroking it up and down, and then making an A-OK sign with her thumb and forefinger, and pushing my poor penis through it, back and forth…oh, it was turmoil. The phone rang. “Yes?” Mommy had a phone right next to her bed, and was quite ambidextrous “Pamela! How are you, dear?” Mommy began rubbing her middle finger on my frenum, the sensitive spot just under my glans. I was getting hotter and hotter, though I was wondering why my girlfriend was calling here.

“Oh, no, honey…everything’s fine.” Mommy leaned into the phone and turned one of her hands into an upside down palm, pushing the oil into the underside of my cock, and then grabbing it like a gear shift and giving it ten quick strokes, as I jumped. I kept mouthing “Let me talk to her” I didn’t want Mommy to say anything about what was going on here, it sounded vaguely incestuous, but Mommy believes you’re only as sick as your secrets. “Yes, he’s here. I gave Creamy a nice bath, and shaved his pubic…yes, you noticed that? It is very hygienic, isn’t it? Now I’m soothing him by rubbing baby oil into his wee-wee…he’s very excited. What?” Mommy rubbed baby oil into my testicles I began moving my hips around, and I felt the semen rising to the base of my cock, it might be Mommy rubbing, but who cares? I was getting really, really hot… “What’s that?” Mommy asked into the phone. “Oh, no, he wouldn’t make a nasty mess on his Mommy…I’d whip his nasty little thing with his late Daddy’s strap…whip it good, I would.” I suddenly began trying not to cum…holding back, oh, let me hold back, I’ve had that horrible leather thing aganst my penis before…oh, please…Mommy rubbed and pulled her hands around the base and up and down the shaft, quicker and quicker, oh, please let me think about the multiplication tables four times seven is twenty-eight, four times eight is thirty-two…Finally Mommy let go of my dick and stood up and began walking in the kitchen, still talking with Pamela. “Yes, yes he’s a good boy. You have company? Roger? There’s an interesting name is he a cutie?” The rest of the night was just miserable, playing dress-up with these weird clothes Mommy got me, I was re-pierced of course…now my cock and balls feel like they are going to die…I mean, there’s going to be an explosion like no tomorrow

The next day, Mommy and I were outside doing yard work. I was trying to rake up some left over leaves in anticipation for spring, and Mommy was bagging some of them. Suddenly she began playing a game with me that we usually play in the fall…it’s called Stuffing.

For every pile of leaves I made, Mommy would shove one old brown, crackly leaf into my underpants, reaching right in there, Within about an hour, I had a bunch of leaves in my pants, and it was growing incredibly itchy and painful in there, as the leaves were congested with little twigs, a small bird’s nest, and the new insects that were coming out of the ground. It got really itchy, and I wanted to go inside and change my clothes. “No, no…Creamy, “ Mommy said. “You’ve got this work to do…” I began to reason with her. “Mommy, this is too much “stuffing” The leaves last fall were smooth,but these are crumbled up, and my crotch feels like hell.” Mommy screamed “How dare you curse in front of your Mother?” She began crying wildly, and gesticulating.

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Green, our neighbor opened the gate and walked in..”Muriel, is everything all right?” Mommy was hysterical “It’s him, Floyd…I work myself to the bone, a widow raising that boy, putting him through school, and when I ask him to do a little work in the yard, he begins cursing at me.” Mommy was sobbing hysterically, and her boobs were shaking in the tight green sweater she wore. Mr. Green had always had the hots for Mommy, he’s a big white haired guy, about sixty-one.

“He’s awful, Floyd…look at him, he—“ “This is damned ridiculous! I—I’ve” I shouted but Mommy cried louder. “And listen to him curse, and look,he’s playing with his privates!” I was scratching my crotch because of all the itchy leaves trapped in there, but I can see why Mr. Greene would believe her. Mr. Greene had witnessed a couple of scenes between me and Ron when he’d given me a whipping in the backyard…I think he knew I wasn’t the average forty-two year old…and he wanted to impress my mother, who he had the hots for. “You foul mouthed little pervert! You don’t want to help your mother with her chores, you just want to curse and play with yourself…how disgusting!”

Mr Greene went to a willow tree and pulled out his pocketknife and cut off a long branch, and walked back over to us.

Mommy was still crying, but she was also watching him, and she smirked at me. “That’s enough rebellion now, mister, take those pants down!” Without even waiting for me to unbuckle my belt, Mr. Greene grabbed me by the waist and undid my pants, dragging them and my long johns down, as I was protesting vociferously. “Look, I’m an investment banker, in this community, you just drive a bus, I—“ The leaves were falling out of my crotch, and I realized how ridiculous I looked, bare assed in the front yard of a residential neighborhood.

“Why’s he have all those leaves and a bird nest in his privates?” inquired Mr. Greene of my mother. “I don’t know, Floyd. ..the boy needs to be in a mental hospital, I think.” I stomped my foot, and nearly tripped over my belt. “You’re lying, Mommy! You shoved these leaves…” WHACK WHACK Mr. Greene lashed my poor ass twice with the long willow switch. “You’re in deep enough without slandering your mother, Mister.” I saw a couple of twenty year old college girls approaching and begged Mr. Greene. “Could we at least do this in the back yard?”

Greene dragged me into the back yard, where the neighbors couldn’t watch me floundering around with my bare butt in the air. “Bend over that picnic table, boy!” Greene ordered. “Or we’ll go back out front and those girls can see you get your spanking!” I sighed and bent over and Greene lifted the switch and whistled it down across my bare ass WHACK WHACK WHACK Boy, could that old man strike! He must work out at a gym or something. Greene lifted and swatted my rear end about twenty-five times, and I began to shake in my lowered pants and scream with pain. What with the paddlings I’d gotten the night before from Pamela and Mommy, this was breaking all the blisters on my rear end that were trying to heal.

That was about three this afternoon, and now it's close to seven. Mommy and Mr. Greene are getting to know each other in the living room, and I am dressed in a French maid's outfit and am about to bring them some porterhouse steaks...my ass feels like someone has been playing darts with it, and the pressure in my balls is still unrelieved. But at least I can communicate with my e-gruop through my laptop..what next?

Captain’s Log: Sunday, February 29, 2004

Today was a long day. Mommy and Mr. Greene spent the night together, and this morning, the three of us went to church, me wearing that horrible blouse with the ruffles around the neck. It's so weird looking and all the pretty girls at church were looking at me curiously. Mommy always makes me wear white gloves to church as well, and I was also in striped pants and spats. I looked like Bozo on acid. It wsa just awful, pure hell sitting through the whole sermon and the text and getting up and sitting down, and singing. One or two of the guys I knew when I was growing up were there with their wives and kids; they've never quite gotten over Mommy's influence on me. When we were all in elementary school, I was a good student and a fair athelete; but forget any non-organized activities.

Mommy kept me home much of the time, and now and then when she caught me sneaking off to build a tree fort or swimming in the creek with my pals, she'd chase after me with a switch or her hairbrush, and punish me right thre... they can still tell I'm her sissy...oh, how I was glad to go home today!

Captain’s Log: Monday, March 2, 2004

Oh, glorious! Pamela and I reunited at work today, and wisely, I didn't inquire after her weekend. Hopefully, she will lose interest in whoever else she's found...I really want to move in! She keeps changing her mind, though...but she and I went straight to her apartment after work, and we took a shower! this is the first time that I've gotten to see Pamela nude, completely nude, in the motel she was always either topless or bottomless, and of course on Friday I was punished, and Pamela remained fully dressed.

"Aren't you gong to cuff my hands?" I asked, as Pamela began unlocking my piercing. "Mommy and Master Ron always cuff me so I can't run off and wank." I was instantly ashamed after I'd said that...it sounded so wussy, "Run off" Why can't I sound normal, masculine, like other men? Is , a childhood and adolescence of being forced to wear dresses and humiliating clothes? It's not as if I'm not strong, and when I'm allowed to grow chest hair I sure do. I was captain of several teams in high school, and was a tough tackler..but then when everyone went out to celebrate the game I won, I had to go home and drink tea with white gloves with Mommy and Aunt Sybil.

"Creamy, I want to trust you." Pamela said, as she removed the piercing and my cock shot up. This was the first time in nearly a year that my hands and my penis were both unbound at the same time! "Why don't you not focus on your own sex needs, and then you won't be tempted to wankee your willie." I blushed hotly. "Focus on me, Creamy." And I did. Once under the shower, I began washing Pamela's bare back, her breasts her long, slender neck. God, she's a beautiful woman, with this alabaster skin! Pamela also began washing me all over, teasing my nipples before working her way down to my cock, which she lathered up completely, and then began rubbing, not in the quick, vicious way Mommy cleans me, but very slowly and gently, and my dick liked it!

Pamela's fingers played around my balls, and her right forefinger went up my tush briefly as her left hand continued to stroke the glans. At one point she shoved my head down, and as I hit my knees, the water coursing over my head, I began to soggily eat her pussy, and as Pamela pushed my head further between her legs, I licked harder. At some point (Mommy taught me this) I grabbed the portable shower nozzle and shot some water into Pamela's clit, alternately stroking it, until she had a screaming orgasm. At this point, I was dying to cum, my cock, frustrated since late December, was surging to go...

Finally Pamela pulled me up and went to work on my dick again, whispering in my ear "Oh baby..is the wee-wee stiff? Real stiff?" Pamela's fingers encircled the shaft looseley,and she imitated my nozzle motion a bit, and my cock got even thrustier, you might say. "I want a man so bad." Pamela breathed in my ear."The guy I was with last weekend...I should've spent the weekend with you, Creamy...oooh yes." Pamela pinched my left nipple.

As she rubbed me, Pamela squirmed up against me over and over again, and I began getting excited, and I started humping her, and Pamela did a deft move with the faucet, and jumped out and I was drenched in freezing shower water. Laughing, she kept pushing me back in the shower for about a minute and a half, which felt, of course like a century. Then she pulled me out, and let me dry off. "See, that cooled your ardor didn't it honey?" Pam smiled, and touched my shivering chin. "Didn't your Mommy ever tell you not to rub up on a lady unless invited?"

Captain’s Log: Tuesday, March 3, 2004

Today was so wretched...I feel like I'm getting closer and closer to Pamela, but then she seems to bring Mother into it! After work Pam wanted to drive to our house instead of her place, and she had a mysterious package to show me. We got inside, and Mommy and Mr. Greene were watching the news. Mr Greene looked really happy, I thought. I think he's had a crush on Mommy for years. "Hello, how are you kids?"Mommy asked. Mr Greene also waved, as if he'd not been whipping my bare bottom in the yard three days previous.

"Are you staying for dinner...what's in that package, Pamela?" Mommy noticed Pamela setting the oblong package on the table. "Well, I got something today, " Pamela said, "Its for Creamy, of course, I spoil him much too much." I beamed. "I was hoping you might have insights on how to use it, Muriel." My beam faded...this didn't sound good. Mommy got up and came to look at the package, as Pamela began ripping it open. Pamela pulled out a four foot rectangular piece of polished mahogany. Shaped somewhat like a two-by-four, it had a small hole in the middle.

I'd never seen anything like it.Pamela handed it to Mother. "They call it a ball hobble, Muriel. Ron sent it to me from San Francisco. Isn't it interesting." Mommy turned the wooden ball hobble thing over in her hands. "Oh, yes...this isn't new...goes behind his..?" Mommy gestured at my behind. Pamela nodded enthusiastically. Mommy smiled grimly. "I remember these from years ago. I used to use it on this one's daddy.What a new-fangled name "ball hobble" It's called a humbler." Pamela smiled and turned to me. "Creamy, sweetheart, why don't you disrobe?" I shook my head. "This is sick, Pamela. Why are we here? It's not appropriate..."

Mommy sighed. "All that lip. I can't believe how what a sassy thing he's become since his nephew left for California. If Ronald was here, mister, you'd do as you were told!" Mr. Greene stood up, glowering at me. Unbuckling his belt, Mr. Greene snapped it. "You'll do as your lady friend says, boy, or I'll give you a bit more of what you got the other day!" I shook my head, and turned to leave the room, and Greene dragged me back, yanking down my pants and undershorts, and as I struggled, he threw me across the couch. I could probably juggle four guys like him, but when someone is about to discipline me, I become weak as a kitten!

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK "Are you going to do as that young lady directs you?" Mr. Greene demanded of me. My pants were congested around my ankles at this point, and my rear was smarting. Mommy snapped her fingers."Creamy, get those clothes off! Do you want Greeney here to have a heart attack?" Finally I stood up, blushing, and stripped off my jacket, tie, vest shirt, pants pink long johns, and socks and shoes dropping them rapidly in a corner. Mommy pointed at the floor, and I sighed deeply again, and kneeled, head down.

Pamela dimpled at Mr. Greene. "Thank you for your assistance, Mr..." Mr. Greene smiled at her. "Sigmund Forsythe Greene, miss, been called Greeney since grade school." Pamela kissed his cheek. "Thank you for helping to maintain discipline Greeney." The old satyr blushed and then took one last swipe at my shoulder with his belt. "I'm still Mr. Greene to you, wimp!"

Mommy bent me over so I was on my hands and knees, and spread my legs apart, slapping them slightly to rush me. She put the Humbler across the backs of my thighs right at my butt-crack level. "Now, Pamela...while he's still limp, push his balls through this hole. There you go...stop whining, Creamy, it doesn't hurt that much." "It does!" I whined. Taking a man's testicles and shoving them through a small hole in a piece of wood is not comfortable. Mr. Greene slapped me across the head, and I held my tongue.

I just couldn't believe that I was NAKED in front of my next-door neighbor...and he was bu llying me. And why is my girlfriend humiliating me in front of Mommy? I'm in my forties now...it's different from being eighteen, and being tied to the weeping willow tree in the front yard, having my bare ass lambasted by a rubber hose by Mommy and Aunt Sybil while the entire neighborhood watched...I cried then and swore I'd get out one day and not come back..and where am I? Indeed where am I now?

"Now, Pamela...his nuts are through the hole, we have to harden him up a little." Mommy said. Mommy bent down and reached under my kneeling body, and began playing with my cock, rubbing it up and down slowly, while Pamela stroked my testicles on the other side of the board, and soon my entire groin filled with cum, though the testicles felt strangled by the board.

All of a sudden, the board was sticking to the backs of my legs, held firm by my testicles. "Now he can't stand up...he has to stay bent over as long as you want him there!" Mommy laughed, and Pam tittered. "Try to stand up, boy." I tried raising my back up to at least just kneel on my knees, but there was a surging pain in my groin area, the scrotum was locked through the goddamn board. I had to stay down on hands and knees...I tried again to get up, and hoped the balls would pull through the hole in the Humbler, but no go...

"Well now, do you want to get some dinner?" Mommy smiled at Pamela, and they both stood up

. "Greeney is taking me to Red Lobster, why don't you come along?" Pamela looked down at me, naked, bent over doggy style, my scrotum trapped in the evil board. "He'll be that way for a while. Can't stand up. Can't lie down, since that would rip out his poor gonads. Come on, honey, you'll see him tonight...by the time we get back here, after dinner and maybe seeing the Lord of the Rings thing at the Cineplex, Creamy'll do anything for you." I couldn't look up but I pleaded with Pamela "No, no please...PLEASE. I can't stay bent over, my crotch is in constant pain, and my back hurts!" I began to whimper. Pamela sighed impatiently. "No matter what we do for you, you're unhappy, Creamy...I think you need to have 'alone time' We'll see you back here at ten, I think?" "Eleven-thirty." Greeney chuckled. "tis a long movie!"

"I'd like to see Lord of the Rings, too..." I moaned. "No, PG I think, Sonny...you know my rules." As they walked out, Mommy was telling them all about my afternoon matinee "Every two months or so, I'd let him go to an afternoon movie when he was in high school...never at ngiht. And it had to be a nice Disney picture..he had to bring back the ticket...one day he forgot it, and I ripped down his pants in front of the girl he went with..."

I knelt there until about ten minutes ago...from six to eleven p.m. I thought when I went limp, I'd be able to slip out of there, but I kept thinking of what Mommy and Pamela and Greeney were putting me through, and I got harder and harder...and I had serious neck and back cramps from all the bending ! Now I am bent over, and Pamela forgot to bring me a doggy bag from Red Lobster, so Mommy is giving me porridge, cold porridge in the kitchen...and Pamela went home alone...she has another late night 'visitor' What's the point of my life?

Captain’s Log, Wedneday, March 3, 2004

Oh, how I hate the Humbler. Tonight after work Mommy showed Pamela all the interesting things you could do with a man in that wretched instrument--a rectangular board held firmly in the back of the legs by my inserted scrotum. "See, what it is, Pamela, is a pillory for the balls, a ball-stock, sorta." The two were bent over my prone body. Naked again, my testicles through that wretched hole, I was honestly worried my penis and scrotum would chafe from this revolting treatment. Pamela said, however, that if I was a good boy, she would consider letting me spend the night tonight, and that didn't happen--but I couldn't help being a crybaby.

"This is what I used to do with his daddy." Mommy said. "I played Mush."

"Mush?" Pamela asked curiously. Mommy went off and came back with her "licorice whip" a long, evil crop with a stinging end, that had found its way on my cock a number of times. "This is lots of fun." Mommy was about to start doing something, and then she hesitated. "Wait, I think I still have the bit." She went into her bedroom and was gone for about ten minutes, during which I remonstrated with Pamela. "Darling please..." I said "This is horribly humiliating. Don't you want our love to grow beyond these putrid sex games?" Pamela clucked her tongue. "This is your life, Creamy. Don't you think I've noticed how hard your little wee-wee gets? It's amazing a man six feet tall would have one so small, but there it's bulged to nearly four inches."

Mommy came back, I couldn't see what she'd brought, because of course I was on the floor, looking at her legs and feet...but all of a sudden Mommy reached down and pinched my nipple and I opened my mouth to scream...and this evil metal thing was shoved between my teeth. There seemed to be straps on either side of my head, and then there was a sharp tug from behind, and the metal thing cut into my jaw severely.

"This is a bit, like you use on a horse, Pamela" Mommy said, as she gave it another savage tug. Oh, great, I thought. "Now, take the reins, and aim the whip like this, right on the back of his balls that are sticking out of the humbler hole--like this!" WHACK Oh, the pain! I felt this incredible sting on my testicles,which were already painfully engorged through the hole WHACK "Mush!" Mommy screamed WHACK my testicles felt like they were on fire, and I began trying to escape on my hands and knees, in sort of a desperate crawl WHACK WHACK WHACK "Mush! Mush! Mush!" Both women screamed, chasing me around the living room and through the kitchen, dining area and back to the living room again.

I am still at home typing this...in a diaper and bonnet for throwing an "anti-humbler" tantrum...Pamela was sad to do it, but she said she was sure to get company elsewhere...aah misery

Captain’s Log, Thursday, March 4, 2004

I just don't understand my life...Aunt Sybil called today. She is Mommy on speed. I guess she's what's called a Big Beautiful Woman on the Yahoo groups...Sybil is about 200 pounds on a five eight frame with the last beehive hairdo in America. She looks kind of sexy, if you're into large breasted, huge bottomed women who dress in skin-tight neon green dresses and spike heels.

As I said in a previous e-mail, I was the captain of the football and baseball teams, and ended up going to college on a wrestling scholarship. My teammates always wondered why I showed up for carwash fundraisers, playbook strategy meetings, and practices, but never for parties, beer or girls, which essentially is why guys play football.

Mommy, as you k now from this log, is and was very strict. At forty-two, I still have a five p.m. curfew and a 7:30 bedtime. Practice, the coach told Mommy, was usually over at four-thirty, but sometimes could "run over", Mommy and Aunt Sybil, who was living with us for a time after Daddy's death, felt that a good team captain could prevent practice from "running over" When it did happen, and I ran, panting to the house at 5:10 or 5:15, I knew I was in for trouble.

When Mommy and Aunt Sybil were in a good mood, the ten minutes lateness was just cause for my pants and shorts being dropped and fifty with the paddle, and thirty with the razor strop. Then I'd be given a big, soapy, ice cold enema to hold for about ten minutes. (Aunt Sybil believed strongly that adolescent "rebellion" evolved from constipation.)

I can still remember being stark on my hands and knees on the bathroom floor--a big, handsome muscular kid-editor of the newspaper and the yearbook, and all the weight lifting trophies in the glass case at the school were mine.

Here I was-- squeezing my cheeks shut, my eyes closed, praying that I wouldn't release before the ten minutes was up, Aunt Sybil would stand over me in her gold lame cocktail dress, slapping the strop in her hand."Creamy, I'm just waiting for you to let that thing go before the stopwatch clicks, baby..then you'll get it." Aunt Sybil's sneer was more frightening than even the opposing football team from the local reformatory.

What would the guys think of me? Smaller, less athletic boys who I had to lead, and sometimes scream at to put together a successful scrimmage, were just about to go out with their girlfriends in the car, and here I was, an eighteen year old man, nude and quivering in front of my thirty-nine year old aunt.

And I was almost never able to hold the enema til the time limit...or maybe I did, and Aunt Sybil lied, or pushed the time to fifteen minutes, it didn't matter...after I expelled the nasty, brownish soaking liquid, Aunt Sybil would scream about the possible damage to her spike heels, and then rub my weeping face in the vile, murky puddles on the bathroom floor.

The strap would rise and fall, sometimes forty or fifty times before I fled the john. Then of course I'd be tied down to the bed and whipped even more, Mommy and Aunt Sybil taking turns with paddle and strop, until 7:30 came. That was the only time I was truly grateful for having an early bedtime.

Sometimes Aunt Sybil would begin to suspect that I was "touching my nasty" I'd be called in from wherever I was doing my homework, or watching an approved show, to the living room. I can still remember Sybil sittng on the couch in a snug white sweater and tight black skirt and nylons. "Come to your Auntie, Creamy..."Sybil would croon. I'd just stare, for a moment, but I didn't want her to get up to come after me, so I'd walk over, and resignedly, put my hands behind my back.

"Have you been a good boy, Creamy? Auntie's been worrying that you're a little self-abuser again. Wasn't that sad, when you were caught with that vile magazine?" It had been a lingerie catalogue, and Sybil had behaved as if she'd found me with an AIDS ridden transvestite.

She'd bound me hand and foot, naked as always, and whipped my smarting penis with a coat hanger, before burning the catalogue in the back yard, Mommy switching my naked bottom as I watched, hoping no one would walk by. So now I was eager to convince her I'd not been touching myself. "No ma'am, I've not been." I would shake my head vociferously. Often Aunt Sybil would bind my cock and balls with painful, stretched. rubber bands when I slept to keep me from getting erect during the night, or having a nocturnal emission.

That might work, but during the day I was always whacking off in the bathroom stalls, and one day I'd been caught by Melvyn Goldthorpe, who was as geeky as I was athletic. Goldthorpe had actually taken a photo of me, jacking my dick in the shower, and used this as blackmail to get me to suck him off now and again when we had a free period in the afternoons.

If I didn't do an excellent job, and have Mel cum within five minutes, he would put my dick in a locker and smash the door on it repeatedly, and then I'd go back on my knees, snuffling, to try it again.

It was an interesting picture--six foot muscular jock sucking off a five five four-eyes with pizza skin. The postive side of the Melvyn problem was, it kept me from jerking off as much as I wanted to, since he made me spend the entire free period working on him, and once I had to fellate all the collected members of the Dungeons and Dragons Club, and the Biology Society...all the geeks got together...it's a wonder my teammates never found out.

But as I said, when I couldn't jerk off thanks to Melvyn and the nerds, it got me points with Aunt Sybil, who would have me stand in front of her, hands behind my back, and begin unbuttoning the bottom buttons of my cardigan, and then pulling up my shirt. After tying the shirt-tails in a knot around my belly, Aunt Sybil would unbuckle my pants and pull them down, followed by my undies.

Then Aunt Sybil would take a long silver nail and flick my penis a couple of times, and it would begin to grow, if I'd not beat off that afternoon. Slowly Aunt Sybil would stroke my cock, examining it and my ball sac thoroughly to ensure that the stuff was pumping inside there. Now and again, her daughter Sabrina, who was my age but went to Catholic School, would walk by with Mommy to look at something in the library, and snicker at me, with my drawers at my feet and Sybil stroking and pawing my stiff penis with her deft fingers and silver nails

Sabrina was a gorgeous young woman--32 C breasts, thick fluffy blond hair like they had in the eighties--but she had a weird sense of humor, and once in a while she'd bring a boyfriend from the Catholic School over to our house.

Sabrina and Sybil shared a room in the top floor, and generally she was out with her friends til all hours--no discipline for her--"Sabrina is our rose and you are the thorn, we must keep an eye out for you."Mommy'd say--but now and then Sabrina would bring a boyfriend home or sometimes two or three guys from St. Florian's Academy. Fortunately, they did not play in our football league, or I wouldn't have been captain of mine much longer.

The incident I'm referring to, is when Sybil was very suspicious that I'd been jerking off every day in the school restroom (It was true; Melvyn and the Biology Society were down with mumps) and she'd consulted her beautiful daughter. So while I was going through my pants-down pee-pee exam, I heard adolescent laughter as Sabrina, her boyfriend Andy and his pals the LaTieri twins (all tough Italians) walked into the living room.

Sybil had tied my hands for some mysterious reason this time...I never physically tried to stop her, but sometimes I'd get very horny while her fingers did the talking...was that why she bound them behind my back this day? Sybil looked over at Sabrina and the boys. "Hello there! Darling, how are you and your friends? I'm just examining Creamy here...he seems to have been diddling his doodly again. Aunt Sybil spun me around to face the four teenagers, my face scarlet, and my dick straining from Syb's latest exam.

"Like, Creamy, you little perv." Sabrina chuckled, and wiggled her Catholic school skirt. Although the girls were supposed to wear sexless button down shirts like the boys at St. Florian's, Sabrina always left her shirt a few buttons open..

Sabrina and the boys were staring at me…the boys looked a little horrified, but Sabrina had a big grin on her face. She was used to scenes like this, and had grown up watching me humiliated and abused…Mommy and Aunt Sybil always sided with her in our fights, and had given Sabrina permission to discipline me herself on her twelfth birthday. There’s no weirder feeling than being over the knee of a teenage girl in a tube top and tight jeans, having your bare butt whipped with her Ping-Pong paddle!

Now, Sabrina looked at my straining cock. “Do you think he’s been playing with it, Mother? He looks pretty stiff to me.” One of the LaTieri twins whispered to Andy and they all snorted. Aunt Sybil held my bound wrists in one hand and idly massaged my growing prick in the other. The boys eyes bulged. “Honey, he just doesn’t seem as quick to excitement” Aunt Sabrina said, shaking her head…She stroked and pulled my dick over and over again.

“I just thought put ting those rubber bands on his wee-wee would do the trick” Aunt Sybil continued sadly, jerking me even harder…”He is a confirmed sickie,your cousin.” Sabrina considered. “Where are your rubber bands, Mother?” Aunt Sybil paused in her stroking “Right behind you, sweetheart. Why?” Sabrina reached to take the jar of rubber bands off the shelf.

Sabrina took one of the rubber bands, and looped it over the edge of her thumb, pulling the other end with her forefinger. “Well, you know…I hate to see this creep disappointing you, Mom…he might just need—“Sabrina pointed the rubber band at my crotch “—a little reinforcement.” Sabrina let fire the rubber band and it hit me directly on the tip of my straining dick, and I yelped. The boys laughed uproariously, and Sabrina smirked, taking up another rubber band. “Help me out here, guys” she said, passing the jar around

The next hour was absolute hell...they began shooting rubber bands at my penis as I jumped and squealed over and over again...the humiliation of having young men my own age, and actually not even as athletcially gifted as I shooting these horrible pieces of rubber at my naked dick were incredibly nasty, I actually began to cry, and the guys laughed themselves to death over this! This was even worse...Sybil had my hands held behind, of course, and she was whispering in my ear constantly"honey, yo know you're just a little girl yourself at heart...when you got that big all state trophy, I was sitting in the audience wondering,just wondreing, what is this doing, is it blowing up Creamy's ego to a point the poor child cant' stand it?"

Tears were streaming down my cheeks like a waterfall...and I was biting my lip as the nasty rubber bands hit my glans, my testes, and various other points on my cock and balls...they just wouldn't stop. Mommy and Aunt Sybil had been putting old rubber bands in the damn jar for the last eight years from discarded grocery bags and that sort of thing, and it seemed like they'd never get done shooting them at me!

I began begging Sabrina"Please Sabrina OW please don't OW OW OW OW OW (one of theLaTiere twins was quite a good shot) PLEASE, PLEASE STOP, I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE...OOOH PLEASE IT HURTS SO MUCH! but there was nothing to stop it...

Afterwards I was put in the corner, pants down, and wrists still bound, crying while the other kids enjoyed cokes and snacks in front of the TV... a couple of times one of the La Tieri twins shot some bands at my bare butt and I just jumped and squealed, what else could I do?

Captain’s Log: Tuesday, March 09, 2004

My memories of the humiliation by Aunt Sybil and Sabrina have been haunting me further…it’s true that after I finished high school, Aunt Sybil found work in the Midwest, and she and Sabrina moved away, but often I’ve thought of the effect they had on me. Sabrina, who I’ve not seen in 20 years, was such a cruel little thing, and I see a lot of her behavior in Pamela, I’m afraid. Pamela just can’t get over the idea that I’ll do almost anything when she’s got me all excited. Last night, Pamela spent an hour and a half stroking my tumescent cock, running her fingers all over the sweating head, and pulling lazily on my balls…I was allowed to stay at her house, and it’s been a lot easier when I’m away from Mommy, though Pamela is really no less strict.

She’s got me on the same housekeeping regimen that Mommy did—scrubbing the bathroom and kitchen, vacuuming the dining and living rooms, and washing walls—and Pam demands that I still help Mommy clean her house as well… Pam has me clean in the nude, and enjoys grinding her hips while lying on a beanbag in the living room, and this often makes my piercing shake, as my cock tries to become hard…I looked really rather pitiful last night, wheeling the vacuum around stark naked, my penis trembling in its cruel prison…Pamela kept shaking her damn booty at me…what the hell’s wrong with that girl?

Then of course she tied me to the bed, and began her eternal stroke…first she stroked me while I was still in the piercing, watching to see if the penis would rip as it bulged, straining at the tiny, shaking padlock. Finally, though, Pamela unlocked me, and began stroking with a vengeance, and oh, God, what she can do with her hands! Pamela stroked the glans with two fingers, grazing the sensitive frenum with the “fuck you” finger, and then rubbing her thumb and fore finger along the shaft…I was really shaking after about thirty minutes---remember, I’ve not cum since before Ron left town. I keep wondering—will she ever let me cum? Doesn’t Pamela want to see what it’s like when I cum? You’d think so, wouldn’t you?

After a bit, Pamela took off her miniskirt and panties and climbed over my face, her butt towards me, and lowered herself on my mouth…and I’ve had thirty years of cunt-licking experience, and I gave her plenty of intense pleasure…my cock got harder and harder, and as she lowered her pussy, grinding it onto my lips, Pamela continued to stroke and tweak my cock here and there, first she’d pump it madly, and then just drum her fingers on it as if she were playing a flute! Finally, after she’d cum twice, Pamela inched forward until her buttocks were rubbing my straining cock as her butt danced back and forth, while my cock bounced against her butt and legs.

She put on the old song by Ace of Base “All I want to do…is have some fun…” and she shook her butt for what seemed to be an hour, rubbing my cock with it, and then whisking it away as my poor penis looked like it was getting friction…ooh. what an experience! I gritted my teeth, and closed my eyes, but there was no use, concentrating didn’t help, when Pamela’s butt wouldn’t stay close enough to my cock to give me the final “rub” towards completion, as it were. I kept hoping I’d break the bonds of the rope “If you can break the rope, honey” Pam said “Maybe you can get your dick inside me…grab my hips..but you won’t break it, Creamy… I was a Girl Scout!” Pamela laughed, and just barely plopped her pussy over my streaming, purpleish cock, rubbed her buttocks, and pulled off again.

Finally, Pamela climbed off me and put a clothespin on the tip of my penis, and went into the other room to sleep on the couch as I lay tied to her bed, my penis in incredible pain, aroused as it was…

Captain's Log, Thursday, March 12, 2004

I have been so distressed...in the last couple of days I've not even had the energy to write. This is incredible! Mr. Greene, the old pervert next door has moved in on Pamela! I didn't say too much when he got involved with Mommy, but what can my gorgeous 26 year old girlfriend see in some seventy year old ex-bus driver?

One night Mommy needed the car, so Mr. Greene drove us home to take the BMW back to Mommy...and Pamela invited him in. I thought we were all going to sit around and have drinks, but Pamela has really begun enjoying me in the humbler...so she stripped me down, cuffed my hands, and put my scrotum through the evil board, and I had to lie there as Mr. Green and Pamela talked about John Kerry's chances. The next night, I'd agreed to come over to Pamela's and Green was already there!

I walked in on them ...they weren't undressed, but she had his shirt open, and was massaging his chest. Green was whispering something in her ear, and when I walked in, Pamela just looked up at me. It was late, as I'd been invited to speak to a management class at the local university.

When I came in, I tried to look outraged, and Pamela looked up at me, smiling lazily. "Creamy, why don't you go into the bedroom and put on your pajamas. You'll be staying in my guest bedroom tonight." Green chuckled, and I stomped off and changed into my pajamas with the pink stripes that Mommy bought me recently. They aren't the footie pajamas I had to wear in high school, but nearly as childish, I think.

I came out and tried to reason with Pamela. "Honey..." I begged." Give me a break here...you said we were going to have time for ourselves." Pamela smiled at Green, and cocked her head at me. "He's tired, I think I'll have to put him to bed." This enraged me,and I shouted at her. "I'm not getting what I want out of this relationship, dammit!" Green got up and grabbed me, and threw me across the sofa arm, dragging down my pajama bottoms. Off came his belt, and I got thirty, really much too hard.

I spent the rest of the evening in the corner...crying bitterly as the n ew couple necked and fondled all evening...