PART THREE: SURVIVAL OF THE FITTEST
Myron in Cuckoo-Land
Time seemed to stop.
There was a roaring sound in my ears, and the blood drained from my face.
Jesse and Tina looked as if they were enjoying the expression of frozen shock on
my face more and more with every passing moment, and yet somehow I couldn't
bring myself to move. I just stood there as if paralyzed, like a dog caught in
the headlights of an onrushing Lincoln Continental, still clenching my little
hard-on between thumb and forefinger.
This couldn't be happening.
I squeezed my eyes shut. No. No, there was no way this was happening.
She wouldn't... she wouldn't do this to me...
Against my will I opened my eyes. Yep - there they were.
Tina bit her lower lip in excited anticipation and snuggled a little closer
to Jesse, pressing her tits against his powerful torso, and he squeezed her hip
in response.
My mouth opened but no sound came from my slack lips for several seconds.
Then it came -- a strangled, barely audible moan.
This was funny to them, of course. This was what they had been waiting for.
They burst out laughing. I sank slowly to my knees, finally releasing my rapidly
shrinking hard-on, letting my arms hang limply at my sides, and moaned again.
They were laughing.
At me.
And now I started to get it. It really was kind of funny, actually. Me, Myron
Lipshitz, with my caved-in chest and my hunched, narrow shoulders... my sagging,
hairy ass and skinny legs... dressed in high heels and stockings, pulling
frantically on my miniscule little dingaling...
That was me. The "big stud," yanking on his "big fat cock" while his wife and
her lover watched.
What a pathetic clown.
Yes, it was really very funny.
A broken smile spread across my pimply face, and I felt something welling up
inside me, something strange and painful, yet comforting...
A tortured laugh escaped my lips.
This really broke them up; Jesse was practically in tears, he was laughing so
hard, and Tina's musical giggling had become a helpless gasping at the sight of
Myron Lipshitz, her husband, kneeling on the floor in front of her, slowly
losing his mind.
I nodded at them happily. Good, boys and girls! See the funny man? See the
funny, ugly little man? Laugh at him, boys and girls! I laughed again. It was
more of a giggle, really, a sort of gurgling giggle, and it felt good. Yes, as a
matter fact, it was too fucking funny! I'd been strutting around, dressed like a
whore, masturbating at my wife's command, debasing myself completely -
Suddenly I was laughing in great hoarse winded gasps. I felt as if I were
standing at the edge of a precipice, looking down into an awesomely deep, black
chasm, ready to take the plunge... An almost exhilarating feeling of vertigo
made me head spin. How easy it would be to simply step off. Yessirree, Mister
Lipshitz, sir! Bags are packed! You're about to take a little trip, all expenses
paid, to Cuckoo-Land!
Crazy, funny Cuckoo-Land.
And I knew that I could just let go, right now, and laugh like this all the
way to the looney bin.
I saw it happening, and with the last remaining shreds of sanity left I
forced my teeth together. Even through my gritted teeth the laughter continued,
but only for a few more seconds. I clapped my hands over my mouth, and it
finally died away.
I drew a deep shuddering breath while Jesse and Tina watched me, still
chuckling together, and then I released it.
Then, slowly, I began to crawl back onto my feet.
It wasn't easy; my legs felt like rubber, and the damn heels were very
difficult to find my balance in, anyway, but I did it, and then I covered my
penis with my hands.
It was time to go.
I didn't know where, but I had to leave, get up to my room and change, and
then get away from this house, far away. I couldn't think very clearly and had
no real idea what would come next. But having even that much direction was
critical. This place was evil. THEY were evil. Must... leave...
I tottered unsteadily toward the door.
"Where the fuck are YOU going?"
It was Jesse. I didn't feel capable of human speech yet, and anyway, I didn't
feel like talking. I kept on going.
"Get back here, Myron."
That was Tina. But... Get back here? Why... Why would she even want me to?
Nothing was making sense. I stumbled once, then regained my footing and kept
going. Almost there!
"Hey. Hey, faggot."
There was a touch of anger in his voice now. Oh, God... Oh, my God... Just
ignore it, Myron...
I heard him walking after me as I reached the door, and a chill of fear
crawled up my spine. Sweating now, I reached for the knob and yanked the door
open, anxious to get upstairs -
-- and Jesse's fist pounded it shut again.
I licked my lips, which were suddenly, horribly dry. Why? Why was this
happening? Then I felt him move right up behind me until his body was touching
mine... his big chest grazing my back... and his big, soft, Spandex-wrapped
crotch pressing against my naked ass.
I gasped.
His mouth was right next to my ear, and when he spoke it was in a soft, sexy
murmur, and his warm breath sent shivers up and down my spine:
"I was talking to you. Faggot."
Then his big hand clapped itself on my jaw, the fingers digging into my
acne'd cheeks and puckering my lips out comically, and twisted my head around. I
had my back to him, so I had to roll my terrified eyes around, much like a
wildebeest does to look at the lion on its back. He was still smiling, like an
angel. A beautiful, dangerous, crazy angel.
"I gave you an order."
The tears came. I whuffed and huffed convulsively, blew a snot bubble,
hiccuped and made little barking sounds, as tears of fear streamed down my face.
I was terrified now. They were psychopaths.
Maybe they were going to kill me.
Finally I found my voice, though it was hard to talk with my face balled up
in his ham-sized fist like a Nerf ball.
"P-p-p-pweashe... I... I j-j-jush wan' guhng-g-g--"
"I gave you an order," he went on in a conversational tone of voice. "And you
disobeyed it. You pathetic sack of shit. So now it's time for Jesse to teach
Myron a lesson."
A desperate, grotesque keening sound broke from my twisted mouth as a fresh
hot wave of tears streaked down my face. I felt like screaming. What the hell
was he doing? Why, oh, why couldn't they just let me go?
What was the fucking POINT?!
I had barely enough time to taste my own confused and fearful outrage before
he jammed two fingers up my nostrils, hooked them, lifted his arm so that I was
on my tiptoes, and began to lead me away from the door. The pain was
excruciating. I began whimpering in agony, whining like a whipped dog, clawing
at his big forearm.
"Aaanghhhh... p-p-please..."
He released me at last and I tottered back a step before falling flat on my
ass, holding my throbbing nose. Then he stood next to my wife again.
Tina had an amused smile on her pretty face.
"Poor Myron," she purred. "You have no idea what's going on, do you? Well,
I'll explain it."
She began stroking Jesse's nipple lightly as she spoke.
"Jesse and me... we're dangerous."
My mind was in total disarray. Dangerous...? The word sent a shiver of dread
through my bowels, but I couldn't make sense of any of this.
"D-d-d--"
"Dangerous," said Jesse with a laugh. "Good boy. You got it, you stuttering
dipshit."
"Dangerous to you, anyway. Oh, you'll see how dangerous we are in a minute,"
cooed Tina. "We'll show you, all right." She closed her eyes and sighed with
anticipation. "We're gonna crush you."
I could only stare in horror. Crush me...? But...
One word was all I could manage. It came out in an unsteady quaver, thick
with emotion: fearful, confused, and miserable.
"...why?"
"Survival of the fittest," she murmured. "Destruction of the unfit."
"'The fittest' - that's us," said Jesse with a content look on his sweet
face. "Me and Tina. You know what I mean, faggot. Don't fuck with me. Little
weaklings like you always know, deep down inside, when you see people like me
and Tina. I can tell you know what I'm talking about. We're superior, right?
Special, like... genetically, or something. We're stronger, and sexier, and...
shit, just better than ordinary people. And way, way superior to puny, stupid
little worms like you."
I just stared at him. Genetically superior? Crazy... he's crazy! And yet,
deep down inside, I felt myself responding to him.
Yes.
Yes, I had felt it. Images of Kip and his friends, Sherri and the other
cheerleaders came to me: confident, godlike, gorgeous... Yes. And me, Myron,
underdeveloped little subhuman Myron, slinking along with my sunken chest, my
"bitch tits," my skinny arms and legs, and my... my penis... my shriveled little
penis... staring longingly at them all.
But why this? Why this insane cruelty?
Please, God... Why?!
It was Tina's turn now.
"When I first saw Jesse," Tina said, "I knew. He was special, like me. And he
knew it, too." She sighed happily. "That night at Le Bernardin... We couldn't
stop looking at each other. That was when you were in your `manly' phase." She
laughed, remembering my efforts to take charge. "Trying so hard to be the head
of the household. Poor Myron... You were so caught up in your little fantasy
world that you never noticed me staring at Jesse. You never saw him brushing
against me: his fingers on my neck, his crotch on my cheek. With you sitting
right across from me. And I thought: this bold, gorgeous hunk is the one. He's
the alpha male I've been waiting for. That's why he dumped your soup in your
lap; it was to show you who was boss, to put you in your place. A warning.
"But you didn't get it. You tried to stand up to the alpha male. And that's a
very, very stupid thing to do. Every animal in the world knows not to do that.
Jesse and I were meant to be together, Myron. We're alphas. We were meant to
mate. And when we fuck..."
No.
"When he opens my pussy up with that big, sweet cock..."
Oh. God. No.
"...we do things..."
No, no...
"...mmmmm."
Jesse chuckled and gently brushed his fingers down my wife's taut, golden
belly to her glistening vulva, staring arrogantly at me the whole time.
"Not like you, Myron," she cooed as he fondled her. "I mean, you have a lot
of money. That's nice. I like money. But you're sick. A sick, flabby pervert. I
mean, you don't walk like us, you don't look like us... And you definitely don't
fuck like us. Snorting around with your tongue up my ass!" She grinned in
disbelief. "Now, Jesse... He's a sex machine. He doesn't get hard by smelling my
shit."
She wrinkled her cute little nose in disgust. Jesse looked highly amused. Of
course, I realized. Of course. She had told him everything. Probably they'd
laughed about my inadequate size, my impotence, my ass-licking fetish while he
fucked her tight slippery cunt with that horse's cock of his. If there'd been a
gun handy I'd have blown my brains out there and then.
I hung my head in shame.
"All Jesse has to do get hard is look at me, or think about me. And he's
always ready. He doesn't have to wait forever, like you do, or snort around in
my ass... What kind of disgusting weirdo wants to lick another person's asshole?
You're degenerate. A freak, or a mutant, or something. Genetically fucked up.
Let's just say it: inferior. That little thing between your legs, instead of a
real penis..." She giggled again. "And that, you poor, sniveling little loser,
is what makes us so dangerous. It's not so much that we WANT to break you down,
even though I think it's going to be a lot of fun.... It's more that we have to.
It's the way we're made. It's in our genes. It's like when you see an ugly
little bug, and you want to step on it, or pull its wings off or something. It
makes us..." She lowered her voice to an excited whisper. "It makes us want to
do bad things-- Oh!"
He had nudged his middle finger in at the top of her slit, and she squeezed
her legs together, her mouth open in an ecstatic smile. Then she relaxed into it
and looked back at me, her freak of a husband, crumpled in a heap on the floor,
and smiled again, that lazy, unspeakably cruel smile.
"You can't even get it up to fuck me any more, can you?"
They waited. I could only stare, hypnotized, at Jesse's big fingers as they
worked up and down my wife's pussy.
But not saying anything turned out to be a serious mistake.
"I just asked you a question, Myron," she snapped.
"Q-q-question? What--"
Jesse frowned and moved toward me again. The throbbing in my nose was just
dying down, and I had no doubts he could cause me untold pain. I did scream this
time, and scrambled back, but he lunged forward and slapped me across the face,
hard. I felt a slice of red-hot pain in my neck as my head snapped to the side
from the force of his blow. Then he slapped the other cheek. Spittle sprayed
from my numb lips.
"Answer your wife, you piece of shit retard! Can you get it up? Huh?"
The bitch-slapping had left me too dazed to think clearly. Little colored
lights danced in my eyes.
"Answer me, Myron. Or Jesse will not be a happy boy." She giggled again.
Crazy. Sick, dangerous, crazy.
Different.
Special.
"And you should know," she went on, "that when Jesse gets angry he can be
really, really mean. He's such a bad boy! Now: tell us, Myron. Tell us about
that little `problem' of yours."
I rubbed my burning cheek, desperately trying to clear my head. My mouth was
numb. Christ... I had to say something, fast...
"...please..."
Jesse's nostrils flared. It was the only sign that he had lost his temper
with me, but I curled into a terrorized ball at the sight of it. He just grinned
at me and walked over. Panic surged inside my guts. This was it. He was going to
kill me.
I freaked out.
"No! Nononono, pleasepleaseplease, ohgodno, Jessewaitpleasepleaseplease
NOOOO--"
He put his implacable hands on my arms and one foot on my thigh and began to
unfold me, still smiling.
"Okayokayokay! I can't-Tina, please! You're my WIFE!! My WIFE!!!"
She laughed. Good one, Myron!
"Oh, SHIT, oh, SHIT!" Tears and snot streaked across my splotchy face as I
writhed helplessly. The words began tumbling out of me. "YES! Yes, RIGHT! My
d-d-DICK won't get h-h-HAAARD, nonoplease... My... my little DICK!!" I was
screaming now, begging for mercy. "I... huh-hi-I'm a FAGGOT, I'm a stupid little
FAGGOT, okay?! Please, just... a stupid little no-dick faggot... Oh, god, ohhhh,
god, ohhhh... PLEEEASE!!!"
Tina was laughing again as Jesse twisted my body at will.
It was another one of his wrestling moves. I even recognized it from our
degrading "championship wrestling" sessions: the "Surfboard Roll-Up." He had me
upside down now, my wrists clenched in his paws as I struggled and jerked and
screamed with fear and pain; he was lifting my body clear up off the floor; now
he had one of my legs in a knee-lock; now the other...
I was upside down, babbling nonsense, resting painfully on the back of my
head so that my weak little chin was tucked into my chest. My knees were pinned
behind my ears, and my arms were yanked up behind my back. My flabby ass was
bared to the world, spread open wide to expose my hairy asshole; so were my
little balls. As for my "jellybean," it was invisible in this position.
I couldn't move a muscle.
Jesse was behind me, his supersized schlong squooshed against the small of my
back. I was looking up at him from below, his beautiful, grinning, All-American
face just visible above his big teenaged pecs.
Tina came up now and stood on the other side of me, her feet on either side of
my head so that I had a perfect view of her shapely legs, her round, saucy
little ass, and her smooth wet slit.
My wife...
Terrified, I babbled some more. I could see her sweet young tits wobbling
daintily as she bent over. She made a face of mock concern as she looked at my
crotch.
Then she raised her fingers and began to caress my defenseless scrotum.
"Awww," she murmured sadly. "Poor little Myron."
I stopped my babbling and held my breath. They're dangerous, I reminded
myself. They were special, and they were sexy, and they were very, very
dangerous, and they wanted to be mean to Myron and step on him and pull off his
wings. It was better now to just keep quiet, to speak only when I was spoken to,
to take whatever they were about to do to me and pray that I'd live through
it...
At least, those were my thoughts before she pinched my nuts up in one cruel
motion.
It hurt. My neck was bent at a ridiculous angle, so my cry of pain came out
sounding like I'd inhaled a lungful of helium, like a cartoon chipmunk, and of
course they laughed at me. They laughed, Jesse and Tina; they laughed at this
ridiculous upside-down cuckold with his micropenis and poor, pinched-up nuts.
Then she raised one dainty foot over my face and bore down, hard. My poor,
already abused nose bent slowly to the side, and the balls of her foot shoved my
lips sideways.
She might merely have been using my face as a stepping stool to make out with
Jesse more easily, because that, suddenly, is what my wife was doing: the two of
them were kissing so hungrily, with such passion, that I could see beads of
sex-juice gathering in the crease of her pink little pussy.
Yes, she might have been using my face as a stepping stool; but did she have
to bear down quite so hard? She was grinding her foot against my face with all
her weight; my mouth was getting wrenched this way and that, and the cartilage
in my nose was making little crunching popping sounds, though the bone, thank
God, didn't break.
And all the while she was twisting my pathetic nut sac back and forth.
I moaned, but they were moaning, too, so loudly they couldn't possibly have
heard, and of course they were enjoying my humiliation too much to have cared
anyway. I tried to look away, but her foot held my stepped-on face upright, and
there was something weirdly compelling about the sight of my wife kissing this
stud... Her soft lips crushed against his, then parting just enough for me to
see their tongues writhing together... Her hand stroking his heavy pecs and
plump nipples, then suddenly digging into his flesh in a spasm of passion as her
shoved that fat middle finger into her pussy ...
...and despite the pain in my face...
...and the horribly uncomfortable throbbing in my scrotum...
...my penis twitched.
Eagerly. And twitched again, as he clenched one of Tina's puffy areolas
between his thumb and forefinger, and worked it until it was a bright, luscious
fuschia.
They were beautiful together.
It hurt to watch them; my heart felt like it was being sliced to ribbons,
watching them make out above me. But they were so... fucking... beautiful...
Finally they stopped. It was a relief, not to have to watch them frenching
each other, but she didn't remove her foot from my face. In stead she turned her
attention back to my aching sac.
"Okay," she said breathlessly, and licked her lips. "Okay." She was grinning
now, an openly malicious grin. "This little bump here? This wrinkled little bump
you call your `balls'?" She twisted it hard for emphasis, and I gave a muffled
cry. "We need to do something about it."
I saw now that she was holding a thick rubber band in the other hand. As I
stared helplessly, my mind a tangle of fear and misery, she snapped it around
the base of my scrotum. It bulged up away from my groin now, about the size and
color of two red grapes.
"...pfeenzh..."
I was trying my hardest to say "please." I was ready to beg, grovel, and
crawl on my hands and knees, to say whatever they wanted me to say, no matter
how debased; I would have confessed to any crime, promised any ransom, to regain
my freedom... but my constricted throat and stepped-on face meant that this
nasal, inarticulate baby-word was the best I could do. Not that it would have
made any difference. I was crying again, too, just a series of wet throat-clicks
and snot-laden snorting sounds that made no particular impression on them at
all.
Tina, my wife, my angel, raised her other hand.
She was holding a ping-pong paddle.
And she was going to pound my nuts with it.
My penis shrank even more. I jerked involuntarily as she used the paddle to
caress my nuts, which were turning purple now.
"Nncch... Mmphhngg!" No good. I tried again. "Teem'mn, nrngh!" (Tina, no!)
"Nrngh, nrngh! Pfeenzh, nrngh..."
I farted with fear, and Jesse made an exaggerated show of disgust:
"Whoa! You stink like shit, faggot! Give him TWO whacks, baby!"
Tina looked down at me.
"Poor Myron. This is going to hurt." She licked her lips. "It's going to hurt
soooo bad..."
"Nnngghh!"
"But you have to learn, Myron. You have to learn to be a... a good boy and do
what I tell you."
Her lips were parted now, and her breathing was shallow.
This was turning her on.
I felt Jesse's proud, king-sized maleness flex against the small of my back a
little. He, too, was getting turned on by my humiliation. But at the moment I
wasn't thinking about the implications of what this meant; about how they might
want to keep doing it, keep me around for hours or even days of "special,"
"dangerous" fun. No, I could only think about what was about to happen to my
testicles. My mouth was dry, and my head spun.
The paddle bore down a little, causing that familiar, horrible ache that
every male, alpha or not, feels when his testicles are in trouble; I saw my wife
lean forward a little, and Jesse did, too, until suddenly they were kissing
again.
"Pfffzh... tchnnt..."
I could only sputter and watch as Tina and Jesse made out over my throbbing
nut sac. His cock flexed again; Tina pressed the paddle against my balls a
little harder, whether out of sheer excitement or the wish to cause me still
greater pain, I don't know. I could see their tongues twining together as he
reached up and pinched her swollen pink nipple, hard.
Then they parted, flushed with excitement, and Tina raised the paddle.
"One..."
With a superhuman effort I arched my back just enough to open my mouth a
little more.
"Teem'mn, pfeenzh! D'ng dee n'sh k'me!" (Tina, please! Don't do this to me!)
"Two..."
"Pfeenzh, n'rt... n'rt m'nitsh!" (Please, not... not my nuts!)
"Three!"
"RRRNGH--!"
I squeezed my eyes shut...
And then--
CRACK!
It was like being struck by lightning. I couldn't even feel it at first.
Spittle sprayed from between my clenched jaws, flecking my pinched lips, as
every muscle in my body spasmed simultaneously.
My wife had slammed the paddle with all her might against my scrotum, driving
it with savage glee into my pelvis.
I heard her gasp with pleasure; I dimly heard Jesse murmur an admiring
"...yeah!" As for myself, I couldn't breathe. My face was turning red, I could
feel it; an ugly beet red. It felt as if an elephant were standing on my
stomach. My nuts would never be the same.
And then she did it again.
CRACK!
Jesse released me. I toppled over, then rolled slowly onto my side.
Twice.
Twice!
I lay there motionless for a while. Slowly the pain came, building deep in my
belly, an agony so profound I couldn't cry or moan. This pain was completely
paralyzing; it was all I could do to inch my sore arms from behind my back. I
pulled them up to my chest, then slowly, slowly moved them down until my hands
rested near my devastated groin. Just rested there; I couldn't bring myself to
touch anything yet. I was too weak, and I was afraid. And still the pain grew,
emanating from the core of my being, as if it were a permanent part of me.
After what seemed like an eternity I was able to draw one feeble breath. It
wasn't much, but it was enough to keep me alive. It was also enough to produce a
sound. A very little sound, considering the mountain of pain and agony I was
experiencing. A startled falsetto peep, like an adolescent girl's.
They didn't laugh. I had been sure they would laugh, like they had every time
I said something amusingly stupid or made a comical noise.
Instead, I could hear smacking sounds.
I opened my eyes.
Jesse had Tina pinned against the wall. She was clawing at his back, his ass,
his shoulders, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist, as they licked and
sucked at each other's tongues, hungrily.
I closed my eyes and drew another breath.
In another five minutes I was able to roll onto my knees. I guess I must have
made some kind of sound, another peep, maybe, because the smacking sounds
stopped.
Footsteps...
Then a swift kick to my ass.
I flew forward, banging my head against the wall, and the impact caused my
over-sensitive groin to flare with new pain. Wheezing, I painfully rolled over.
They were standing there, panting with passion.
I forced myself to look at my crotch. My balls were unrecognizable. Dark
purple and swollen, blotched, oddly misshapen. Christ, I had to get the rubber
band off...
"Get up."
It was Jesse. And he had just told me to do something. The rubber band would
have to wait. I heaved myself, choking and gagging, to my knees, then slowly got
to my feet, leaning against the wall for support. The damn high heels weren't
making this any easier.
"Are you ready to follow orders, bitch?"
"Y-y-yes." It came easily to me; it was almost automatic. I had learned my
lesson.
"Yes what?"
"Uh..." I racked my addled brains. "Uh... y-y-yes... master?"
He smiled again.
"Good bitch."
"What do you think, Jesse?" asked Tina. "Should we test him?"
Oh, no.
"Huh," he grunted, and his eyes narrowed speculatively. "A test. Sure! Let's
see... Walk over here, bitch."
I had only one thought on my mind: to avoid any more pain. Stumbling a little
in my ridiculous shoes, bowlegged to spare my poor little scrotum, I shuffled to
them.
"Lean forward."
I leaned forward. Jesse snorted deep in his throat once... twice... I could
see his mouth working away at something... Suddenly he spat in my face. A huge
spray of snot and saliva spackled me from forehead to chin; gobbets of his
sputum hung from my eyelashes and nose and lips.
I stiffened, but didn't move.
He glared at me. "What do you say, faggot?"
"Uh... Th... Thank you, m-m-master."
"Good."
My body spasmed with pain.
"Aaaah! Ow... M-m-mum... M-m-may I p-p-please take off the rubber band,
master...?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah," he laughed. "Go ahead."
They watched, snickering, as I sank to my knees and bent over to examine the
situation. Oh, Christ... my balls! My undersized claim to manhood... They had
swelled up until I thought they might burst; the badly bruised skin was taut and
shiny, like that of an eggplant. The band was doubled around the base tightly,
but I had to get it off, now, before my sac puffed up any further. With a moan
of apprehension, I slowly and carefully worked my fingers under one layer of
rubber band.
"Hurry up, bitch." Jesse said it carelessly, without any particular emotion,
but I knew better than to disobey. Urgent whimpering sounds bubbled out of me as
I struggled to get that initial layer up and over my belabored scrotum.
There! It was off.
I had just gone to work on the second layer and had it pulled half-way off
when Jesse decided to play one of his little pranks. Without warning he lunged
at me and shouted, "Boo!"
I jumped. The band snapped back against my battered nuts, and that horrible
black pain exploded deep in my crotch and bowels. I let out an outraged howl of
agony. Jesse and Tina loved it, laughing helplessly as, frantic, sweating like a
pig and yelping with pain and fear, I tore the band off.
At last! I cradled my poor, pummeled testicles, shaking with relief.
My wife wriggled happily against her lover's muscular body.
"Oooh, Jesse, you're so bad! Hmmmm... Let's see... Okay, here's another one.
Get up, shitface."
"Yes, Tina." I scrambled up, still cupping my nuts.
"Dance. Dance for us, you ugly fuck. Dance like a... like a chicken."
Jesse guffawed. I practically wept with relief. No more slapping! No more
ball-bashing! ... At least for now.
"A chicken," I agreed. "Yes, Tina. Right away, Tina. Thank you, Tina."
And I did it. It was a little stiff at first; I was never very good at
improvisation. I tucked my hands under my armpits and flapped my "wings"
tentatively, made a few awkward steps... Jesse looked kind of bored, and Tina
looked outright irritated with my lackluster efforts. With a lump of fear in my
throat I stuck my ass out, as much like a chicken as I could, and shook it. That
was better: they were both smiling now, nodding. I lifted my legs and began
strutting around in front of them. But they didn't really start enjoying
themselves until I began clucking.
"Buk-buk-bawwwwk!"
That did it. They were laughing now. Yes! Good! I really threw myself into it
at that point. I bobbed my head up and down, sweating with the effort, clopping
back and forth, clucking for all I was worth. I was dripping with sweat, and it
was while I was clucking that I realized how thirsty I was. It would have to
wait.
But, like all young people, Tina and Jesse had short attention spans, and
within a minute they'd had enough.
"Okay, dipshit," my wife snapped.
I stopped immediately, out of breath and scared again. What now?
Tina wasn't quite done with me.
"Now. You had a little trouble earlier, admitting that you can't get it up.
Didn't you?"
I swallowed hard, and my stomach lurched. Please, God, don't let her be angry
with me! "Y-y-yes, Tina. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry..."
"Mm hm. Well, I want a full confession, right here, you stinking little
creep. About everything. All your... shortcomings."
Again, a wave of relief hit me, so powerful it made me weak in the knees. No
more physical abuse!
"Y-y-yes, Tina. Th-th-thank you, Tina. My... my sh-sh-shortcomings." I
swallowed hard.
"And darling?"
"Yes?"
"I want you to jerk off while you do it."
Oh.
Jesse burst out laughing. "Whoa! Tina, you are one evil little cunt, you know
that? The poor little freak's nut sac is ready to pop...!"
She smiled sweetly. "Mm hm."
Yes, the `poor little freak's nut sac' had seen better days, and I was very,
very afraid of overtaxing it in its current condition. But I knew better than to
wait. I grabbed my dingaling and started pulling on it. I was exhausted, and my
words were punctuated with sharp little hiccups of breath, like dry sobs; but I
could do it.
Anything to please them. To make them happy.
"Um." (dry swallow) "Huh... My... I'm just (hic) a loser. (hic) A little
(hic) freak (hic) loser." I smiled hopefully at them as I yanked my miniscule
nub back and forth. My wife had settled back in her lover's burly arms
contentedly. He nibbled on the upper edge of her ear as he watched me. No one
was angry at Myron yet. That was good.
I wanted to make them happy.
I wanted to be a good boy.
I jerked harder and kept going.
"My... My pathetic little p-p-penis... It's just not even an inch long! Just
a shriveled, useless little... m-m-micropenis. That's what doctors call it," I
added helpfully. "A micropenis. And... and it only gets hard when I lick your
ass..."
I shivered suddenly. Violently.
That ass... Just saying the words aloud was having a strange effect on me...
My mouth was actually watering. I swallowed hard.
And that small, wrinkled joke between my legs was getting an erection. I
couldn't quite believe it. Here I was, fresh out of a session of the most
intense ball-torture I could ever have imagined, jerking off in front of my wife
and her stud, and I was actually getting a hard-on... A stab of pain from my
ravaged scrotum made me wince, but I kept it up, masturbating furiously.
Christ, it felt good.
"Oh! Oh, Tina, your asshole... I have to lick it every time I want to get a
hard-on! That sweet, tasty asshole..." I groaned with desperate need.
"P-p-please... I need your shit in my face before I can get hard!" That wasn't
exactly true. She had never actually crapped in my face - at least not yet - and
going down on her ass hadn't given me an erection in months. But it sounded
good. And regardless of my past impotence, I was certainly hard now. "I'm a
shitface! Uh..." (What else was there?) "A limp-dicked, whining little
shitface... Uh..." (Keep going, you moron! Don't stop! It's the only way to save
yourself!) "My stupid, pathetic little dingaling... uh... I'm not a real man.
I'm a... a faggot. Yeah, yeah, a faggot!"
Something clicked inside. A faggot? I stared at Jesse, at that magnificent
golden body of his. How many times had I found myself gaping open-mouthed at it?
Looking hungrily at every slope, every curve? Hypnotized by his sculpted back
and shoulders, his big sweet-nippled pecs... his flat, rippled belly with its
deep "innie" navel... his powerful ass and haunches... and that thing, that
heavy, hulking thing between his legs? Just like my locker-room days, when I
couldn't pull my eyes away from Kip's manly prong... I knew now that it was
true. I wanted him. I wanted to run my hands over that perfect,
football-kicking, bench-pressing, hubby-crushing, wife-fucking young body of
his.
To... lick it.
"Jesse. Oh, master, you... You're so fucking sexy. I wanna..."
I stopped suddenly, terrified that I had gone too far. But he had the same
lazy confident grin on his face that he'd been wearing pretty much from the
moment I'd torn off the blindfold and seen him standing there with Tina. In
fact, he even reached down and stroked the big bulge in his biking shorts,
staring at me.
Then, he winked.
My dick was rock-hard. I pounded it harder still, in a frenzy of desire.
"Nnnngh! Aaah! Oh, master, I wanna be your little cunt! Suck you and l-l-lick
you..."
He wrapped his hand around his crotch now and squeezed gently, emphasizing
his ripe young hugeness. I went wild.
"Annggh! Hnnnh! Oh! Big -- fucking -- COCK!"
Yes. His cock was everything I could never be. My eyes strayed down to the
skinny, glistening stub in my hand. My mouth twisted into a sneering grin.
Really, it didn't even deserve the name "penis;" after all, it was smaller than
my little finger. A dizzying range of emotion coursed through me: regret,
self-hate, and also a sense of release at finally getting it all off my chest.
This was better than any session with Dr. Van Horne. I pinched my penis
vengefully, glaring at it.
"Little faggot prick! Useless piece of shit..." I flicked it once, twice,
three times, hard; I slapped it back and forth. But like those Weebles which
wobble but don't fall down, it bobbed back up every time. It seemed to be
enjoying the abuse as much as I was enjoying my humiliation; it had finally
found its place - as an object of unremitting scorn. Contempt and loathing for
my craven little dick swept over me. "Christ. LOOK at this thing! Oh, Tina,
oh... My little faggot dingaling can't do it. My limp faggot prick! You need a
big, hot stud to fuck you..."
The words just popped out of my mouth. My balls were throbbing with pain, but
this felt good. Really good. Tina's eyes brightened up. A big, hot stud, eh? And
Jesse... Jesse raised his eyebrows as if to say, Oh, yeah?
Yes. Yes!
"Yeah! Jesse! Jesse has a big dick. Jesse has a big fat dick and he... he
FUCKS you, doesn't he? Oh, yes... He FUCKS your hot, wet PUSSY with his fucking
COCK, ohhhh... Yeah!" I stared at him, grinning boldly. "Yeah! You! You big
muscle-stud-fucker, you do it! Uh-huh! Uh-huh! You love it! You and your big
sweet dick! All Myron gets is a faceful of her asshole! But you! You FUCK MY
WIFE!--"
His hand flashed out suddenly. An open-handed strike across my left cheek and
I spun around like a top, crashing to the floor.
Sobbing again.
Whining incoherently.
"You sound like Beaker right now, you know that? Remember that little guy on
the Muppet Show?" Jesse laughed happily. "The one who always got blown up..."
I rolled over, clutching my still-hard penis, and stared up at him,
struggling to smile through my tears.
"Why, master...? W-w-why did you slap Myron?"
"I just felt like it, bitch. What do you say?"
"Th-th-thank you!"
Tina bent down, took my chin in one hand, and raised the other. I closed my
eyes and steeled myself for it.
SLAP!!
I collapsed.
"Admit it, faggot," she purred. "You like it."
"Yes!" I laughed savagely through my tears. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" I was twitching
all over, jerking spasmodically as I continued yanking on my stub of a wiener.
"Thank you!"
She gave me a look of frank appraisal. I got back to my knees, wriggling like
a puppy before its masters, eager to please them. If I kept them happy, I just
might save my wasted testicles...
"I think he's ready, Jesse."
Ready?
"Yes!" I exclaimed. I had no idea what she was talking about, but as long as
they didn't hurt me any more, I would do whatever they said. I was ready to
accept any degradation, and be grateful for it. I needed it; I deserved it. I
was a subhuman freak. "Yes! I'm ready!"
"Yeah?" He leaned forward. "You're ready? You wanna see it?"
"S-s-see it...?"
And in a flash I saw what was coming. I don't know how I knew, but I knew.
And I wanted it. I was nodding excitedly, my face twisted into an eager leer,
my puny little boner bobbing up and down between my thumb and forefinger. I'd
known all along where this was going; I been craving it, without quite being
aware of my craving; and now that it was finally about to happen, I was
ecstatic.
They were going to... do it. Right here.
Right in my face.
"Oh - oh, yes, master. Yes, yes, please yes! Myron wants it. Myron wants it
so bad. Please..."
"You really wanna see it, bitch?"
"YES!" I screamed. "YES! You think I don't know what you're talking about,
don't you? You think I'm stupid. Okay. Okay! Myron IS stupid! I'm a stupid
ass-licking faggot! But I know. I KNOW! You're gonna... you're gonna do it.
You're gonna show me." I swallowed hard and crawled to my knees. "Please. Please
do it."
"Do what?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face.
"Yeah, Myron," said Tina. "Do what?"
I giggled again. "Please. Pleeeease!"
"Please what, bitch?" Jesse had an excited grin on his face.
"Please f-f-f... Please f-f-f-f-f-f..."
He slapped me. Hard. He was enjoying this.
"Say it, bitch!"
"...p-p-please f-f-f-fuck her."
"Huh?" He wore a look of mock incredulity now. "What?"
"Please, master. Please." Yet another power-surge of pain in my genitals. I
gasped, stopped masturbating, then regained my composure, such as it was.
"Please. Fuck. My. Wife."
"You want me to fuck your wife?!"
"YES, master!"
"Right here? Right in front of you"
"YES! Yes, yes! Please fuck her, master!"
"You want to watch me fuck your wife with my cock, you pathetic sack of
shit?"
I lost it completely. "YES! Do it, do it! FUCK her! Fuck my WIFE, right in my
faggot FACE! I want to SEE it!"
He stepped back from me, and the room was suddenly charged with a new kind of
energy. Like the charged air before a lightning storm. Jesse seemed to swell up
in front of me; Tina was surrounded by a pearly aura, I swear to God.
Jesse, my master, turned his back to me. Looking at me over his shoulder he
hooked his big thumbs into the waistband of his biking shorts and began easing
them downward. Slowly, sexily, moving his hips back and forth, he worked them
down, down, down...
"You like it, bitch?"
I licked my dry, cracked lips.
"...yes... oh, yes..."
I could see the top of his ass now.
"You want to see more?"
"...yes, master... please..."
He slid them down, inch by inch, over more and more flawless ass-skin, over
the sweet crack that separated his two gorgeous buttocks...
"You want some? You want some of Jesse's asshole, bitch?
"...oh, God, yes..."
"You wanna lick it, shitface?"
There it was. That round, muscular ass had tightened and relaxed God knows
how many times as he shoved his big young prick into my wife. I would have
worshipped his sphincter with my tongue in a second, if he had told me to. I
would have sandwiched my face between his sweet, seventeen-year-old cheeks,
squeezed them against me, and frenched his shit-scented hole for hours.
"Oh, yes," I whispered reverently. "Yes, master."
"May be you will. Maybe you will, turdface."
Then he turned around. The biking shorts had been pulled down far enough to
expose his hips and all of his groin. Two shallow grooves ran from his hips
downward and inward, skirting the lowest part of his perfect, god-like torso,
angling toward his crotch, as if pointing the way. A few silky blond hairs were
visible now, and somewhere below them...
He pulled his shorts down. More silken hairs, a flaxen nest of them...
...then, the base of his cock...
...and more...
...and still more.
Tina eased her hand in and pulled it out the rest of the way.
"Mmmmm," she said. "Mmmmm."
It was half-erect already, and I gasped at the sight.
This was it.
This was manhood. With what I had, buried between my legs, you diddled; but
this was a cock. This thing fucked. Two inches thick, six inches long and still
growing as I watched. Big as it was, it was still loose, still floppy in Tina's
hand, which looked impossibly childlike beside it; but it was stiffening and
raising its head in the air of its own accord. A pale, pearly pink, with a
prominent vein running down the middle.
Jesse was uncut, and the thought occurred to me that the word "manhood" might
have derived from the beautiful unblemished sleeve that cloaked his bulbous
glans. Tina moved the skin back, revealing the tip of something big and round
and shiny. When she let it slide back his cock angled upward still further; it
was at half-mast now, and suddenly it was rising fast. It was spreading,
growing, and rising higher and higher... nine inches... ten inches... and the
pink, glistening, bulbous head was emerging from his foreskin like an shiny
purple Easter egg.
Bigger and bigger.
I fell to my knees. A puddle of saliva had been collecting inside my lower
lip, and it ran suddenly down my chin in a viscous line, to drip onto my own
toddler-sized stiffie.
Tina was rubbing it now. Rubbing his cock. He sighed with pleasure and peeled
the trunks down to his thighs. His balls swung free, big, pendulous, and she
fondled them and they kissed again.
Jesse's monster cock was completely hard now, close to a foot in length, the
head streaming pre-cum as my wife stroked it. He moved his face down her neck,
kissing and licking as he went, until he reached my wife's tits. Her perfect
tits, upright, firm globes of sweet eighteen-year-old flesh, tipped with fat,
pink nipples...
And he kissed them.
He licked them.
He chewed and sucked on them, while she moaned and writhed and ran her
fingers through his hair... squeezing that... that thing between his legs... The
two of them were bathed in a sheen of sweat, and they slid wetly together as
they urged each other on, getting stickier and hotter with each passing moment.
They were ready.
Jesse, flushed and slack-lipped, his pupils dilated with lust, sat down on
the floor with a thud. His eleven-inch cock was as rigid as a barber pole and
pointing straight up, drooling non-stop, a thick milky syrup which rolled down
the sides and over his enormous balls. Tina straddled him and lowered herself
down until her juicy cunt-lips met his cockhead and began to spread over it,
like a girl's mouth on a scoop of strawberry ice-cream.
"Ooooo...!"
She was frantic now, crazed with lust, mewing like a hungry kitten, but it
was so fucking huge she was having trouble getting it in... she was twisting,
bobbing up and down, thrusting her hips back and forth... and little by little
she worked her tight pussy over his gargantuan cock.
He was actually growling.
"Rrrr... Mmmm... Yeah, yeah, yeah, bitch, c'mon, c'mon..."
There was a desperate note to his voice. She had squeezed almost four inches
of it inside herself; there were eight more to go, eight more inches of shiny,
baseball-bat-thick fuckmeat...
"Oh, baby, I... I'm trying... Unnh! It's always so... Oh, God, it's so
fucking BIG..."
"Aw, yeah... yeah, Tina, sweet Tina, come ON... Suck this, bitch, suck it!"
He was shoving his fingers in her mouth.
"Glmph...!"
She slurped hungrily at them, eager to get some part of him inside her, no
matter what, no matter where. Then he withdrew them and reached around, groping
blindly at her ass. One slimy, spit-covered finger found my wife's hole, the
asshole I had spent hours lapping, and with a savage grunt he jammed it in.
My wife gasped. She cried out. And his finger invading her anus must have
helped because suddenly she opened up, my wife's cunt loosened just enough and
she slid down, all the way, his cock plunging deep inside her with a wet
squelch.
"AAAAAH!
"YEAH! FUCK yeah, you sweet cunt, OOOHHH--"
"Ohhhh, Jesse, oh, BABY!"
She rose up, exposing his manhood. It was slick with my wife's juice. Then
she sank down again, crying out in pleasure and pain, and this stroke made an
incredible sticky sound, like two honey-glazed buns being squeezed together, and
then they were doing it.
They were fucking each other.
Up until this moment I had pretty much forgotten that I was there. I had
never seen anything so powerful, so animal-like, so primitive, and I had just...
faded from the picture, in a way. But now I snapped out of my trance with a
shock.
I was watching it.
I was watching my wife fuck Jesse.
And I grabbed my wiener and began pounding it for all I was worth.
"Yeah!" I cried. "Yeah, FUCK! FUCK her, FUCK her!"
"Fucking BITCH," Jesse shouted as my wife rode his pole, "fucking SLUT, SUCK
it, suck my cock with your CUNT--"
"Aaaangh!" She forced herself down with a breathless little cry, and cried
out again as she slid back up. "Orrrngh! Ungh!"
"Fucking, fucking," I sang out frenziedly, "fucking my WIFE--"
He gripped her buttocks, digging his fingers in, and seemed to lift her up
and slam her down, again and again. She was getting the breath pounded right out
of her. My wife. Her poor cunt... She was weeping now, stretched to the limit.
"Fuck!... me!... unnh!... fuck!... me!..."
An image flashed through my mind: my little Myron-sized prick, sliding in and
out of her pussy for a few meager seconds of love before the Magic Moment. I
laughed out loud; I think I was crying, too.
She was raising one leg high in the air now, easing it over his head, crying
out in ecstasy as he licked her calf, lowering it until it was beside the other.
They were moving around now, both of them, urgent, impatient; she was getting to
her knees, he was behind her -
"Fuck me," she whined. "Fuck me, you fucking cunt-fucking stud. Fuck me like
a bitch in heat. Fuck me!"
He laughed, gripping her hips and rearing over her like a stallion before
plunging deep inside her. To the hilt. With a smacking sound as his groin met
her ass that made both her and myself cry out.
"Big COCK!" I blubbered. "Big COCK in my wife's CUNT--!"
She focused on me for a second.
Laughed.
Then her eyes unfocused and she had entered their world again, the world that
existed only for the two of them. The world of pure, unadulterated, big-cocked,
tight-pussied wife-fucking.
His gargantuan nuts were swinging back and forth like a pendulum, slapping her
stomach with a damp "plop" again, and again, and again, keeping time with their
furious fucking, dripping with their combined juices. I was temporarily
mesmerized by it... that huge, dangling softball-sized sac, swaying this way and
that as he rammed into my wife...
"Ohhh Jesse," she groaned, "ohgodohgod you're so BIIIG--"
"YEAH, bitch! YEAH!" He reached around now to take hold of her bouncing tits,
squeezing them hard, kneading them. Milking them. Milking my wife while he
fucked her, rolling her nipples, digging in. "You love it, huh? Cocksucking
bitch... You love Jesse's cock, huh? Big fuckin' cock, stuff your fuckin' pussy,
you stupid fuckin' whore, you cock-slut... You love it, Christ fucking hot
bitch-ass cunt..." The words were pouring out of him. They made no sense; they
didn't need to. This was sex. This was fuck-talk. "Unh. Unh! Fuck, FUUUCK!"
As for my wife, his barbaric pounding was driving her wild.
"Stick it in my - Unh! Oh! Oh, fuck my pussy, you fuck, you piece of shit,
unh! Unh! Uh, GOD, my fucking pussy, you God-damned motherfucker,
cock-fucking... shit, ah - AANGH -- fucking GOD--!"
They did this for a while. Then they changed positions. Twisting and turning.
Him on top, pounding her cunt to jelly with his oozing pole. My wife's hands
clutching his ass, pulling him into herself, deeper than ever. His sweet cheeks
parting moistly as he raised himself, exposing his tight smooth asshole. Then
closing stickily as he slammed back into her.
Then doggy-style again.
I would have cum if I could have. Oh, I came close, so many times... But each
time I felt myself near to orgasmic release my testicles experienced a stab of
pain, and I had to stop, and wait a minute. The pain never quite went away,
actually; it built and built. But I simply couldn't stop myself from jerking
off. I was like a puppet, out of control, being jerked on its strings by some
twisted child, and after half an hour I was masturbating with one hand and
clutching my stomach with the other.
"Ooohhh," I moaned as I spanked my wiener. "Oooofff! Owww... Urnngh!"
Abruptly, he collapsed to the floor, on his back, with a delirious, crazy
laugh. It looked as if someone had poured a gallon jug of Mazola over both of
them; they were practically glowing with sweat. She ground herself down onto his
cock with her ass to his face a few more times, then twisted herself around to
face him.
They were back where they had started. Only now Jesse was making a weird
whimpering sound; the sound of someone who is about to let go of all control, to
ride the waterfall, to jump off the cliff... He was close. The whimpering became
a huffing and puffing, like a locomotive. And Tina clenched her fists, her face
red with effort, eyes screwed shut, weeping with passion, and abandoned herself
to a final, over-the-top round of cock-pounding mania, bouncing up and slamming
down onto his glorious, throbbing shaft.
"Beautiful fucking SLUT," he sobbed, "FUCK me, fuck MEEEEE--"
"AAAAAAHHHHH!!!!"
And then we were all cumming. At last. My balls clenched, the pain was
hideous, it was like they were trying to take a giant shit, but I came; several
drops spurted into my fist as I screamed in ecstasy and torment. As for them --
Tina hung on for dear life, shaking and crying, as Jesse's cock exploded inside
her. Those balls of his must have been churning inside like two overheated power
plants because it was a fucking meltdown inside Tina: his prick was erupting
with a volcanic mother-lode of cum. The thick milky cream was overflowing my
wife's pussy and streaming down his shaft, smeared all over it when she slid
down, only to be replaced with fresh streams as she slid back up, heavy jiggling
ropes of his slimy, shiny jack hanging from her cunt to his balls.
Balls... Ohhh, Christ... Suddenly my abused nuts really did feel like they
were about to pop. I gasped, doubled over...
...and passed out.
Happy-Meal
It must have been only a minute. I came to slowly, groggily, feeling a little
hung over. My throat felt like it was coated with dry clay; my tongue felt like
sandpaper.
And -- Christ, my aching nuts!
Where the hell was I...?
...Oh, yeah.
Jesse was lying on his back now, my wife resting on top of him. He was
stroking her ass, and they were still fastened together at the groin; limp, his
cock was still bigger than many men's, and it didn't slip out like mine would
have but remained firmly in place. Her cunt-lips weren't quite as stretched as
they had been, but they were still somewhat taut.
They were kissing gently now.
I lay there watching them. Not a thought in my head. Time seemed to have
stopped.
Finally they stopped kissing. Jesse lifted his head and noticed me staring.
"Bitch is awake," he mumbled.
Tina turned and cast a disinterested look my way.
"Mm."
One more lingering kiss.
"Ohh, Jesse... I could stay like this forever..."
"Yeah? You wanna do it again? I'm getting hard just thinking about it."
She laughed.
"Baby, you're insatiable! But I don't think I can handle another fucking from
you quite so soon. ...What do YOU think, Myron? Isn't Jesse amazing?!"
I licked my dry lips.
"Yes, Tina."
My voice was raspy; I desperately needed something to drink, but prudence
seemed the better part of valor at the moment. It might not be wise to ask
permission for things like food and water yet.
Thankfully, she noticed.
"Oh, poor Myron!" she exclaimed. "Jesse, listen to that voice! He must be
thirsty!"
She inched forward, pulling herself off his penis with a moist shlupping
noise. Finally his cock flopped free, lying limp on his belly like a baked and
buttered yam. To my amazement Tina's cum-splattered pussy remained open for a
few seconds, then slowly began to close.
That was one well-fucked cunt.
She stretched luxuriously, then climbed to her feet. More of Jesse's cum slid
out from between her legs, trickling down the insides of her thighs.
"Are you? Are you thirsty, Myron?"
"Oh, yes." I swallowed; it actually hurt, my throat was so parched. "Yes,
Tina. Very, very thirsty."
"Awww. Well, you've been a good boy. I think you've learned your lesson.
Don't you think he learned his lesson, baby?"
Jesse propped himself up on his elbows. "I dunno. Did you learn something,
faggot?"
"Yes," I croaked fervently. "Oh, yes, master. I learned my lesson. And I...
I'm very, very thirsty. Please..."
"Okay, Myron," she said, "I'm going to give you something tasty to drink.
Something special. For your birthday."
"Oh, thank you... thank you!"
She walked over to me, then squatted next to me. His thick cream was running out
of her now, making a luminous puddle on the floor next to my head.
"Open up, Myron dear."
"What--?"
She was already maneuvering her crotch over my face. Her pussy was a sticky,
cum-streaming mess; the lips parted as she spread her legs a little wider, and
still more spooge streamed out, pooling on my chin as I opened my mouth to
protest. Too late. She sat down abruptly, covering my mouth with her sloppy
cunt.
Dear God, no... Not this...
"Mmmph!"
I reached up to try to get her off, but the repeated slaps across the face,
the agonizing wrestling hold Jesse had pinned me with, the paddle-blows to my
nuts, the chicken-strut - all these things had left me even weaker than I was
normally. I scrabbled feebly at her thighs and ass, but it was no use.
"Eat it, you pathetic little worm," she hissed. "Eat it, or you know what
happens."
My groin spasmed with remembered pain. No; I wasn't stupid. I wouldn't ever,
ever disobey them again. And she was, after all, Tina Anderssen. She was the
blonde little vixen of my dreams... and of my most feverishly delightful
nightmares. I had eaten this pussy before, and been grateful for every
Goddess-given moment of it. So what? So what if my wife's pussy, the pussy
squishing itself against my mouth, was full of her lover's jism? Wasn't this,
too, a privilege, in a way?
I gave up and ate.
Jesse's cream was running into my open mouth as though it were being poured
from a pitcher. Straight out of my wife's fuckhole, thick, viscous, hot, and
plentiful, getting smeared all over my face...
It was kind of tasty, actually.
I slurped at it, licked it, probed her pussy with my tongue for more. I could
hardly breathe; only my nose was uncovered, and even that was getting slimed, so
that I was practically blowing bubbles of the stuff; but I swallowed it all
down, eagerly.
"That's it," she sighed. "That's it, fuckface. Loser. Freak. Eat it... eat
Jesse's cum... Ahhhh."
"Mmmph."
Quite a lot of it wound up on my face rather than in my mouth, of course, but
I did the best I could, and when she finally dismounted, I wasn't very thirsty
any more. I looked up from my position on the floor, dazed, blinking owlishly.
The stuff was in my nose, my eyelashes, even in my hair.
"Jesus fucking Christ, Myron," she complained. "You look like someone threw a
pie in your face."
"What a fucking pig," Jesse grunted.
"Yup," she agreed. "And I'm still pretty sticky. Oh, well, Myron. I guess you
did the best you could with such a big load. I'm going to clean up a little."
She walked to the bathroom, a little bounce to her step.
What a woman.
And now I was alone in the rec room with Jesse.
"Okay, cumsucker," he said. "My turn."
"Your turn?"
"You heard me, fuck-breath." He gestured at his penis, still lying wetly
across his sculpted abs. "Clean it up."
I felt a little like I was dreaming. Could this really be happening? Me,
Myron Lipshitz, actually... actually touch Jesse's godlike cock... with my
mouth? A broken smile spread across my face.
Or was it a trick?
"Bitch," he said menacingly, looking up again, "do it. Now."
"Y-y-yes, master," I whispered.
I got painfully to my hands and knees and crawled over to him. Even up close,
I couldn't quite believe this thing was real. Oh, it wasn't just the size. I
mean, yes, even limp it was six inches long and about two inches wide. There was
no way I could fit my mouth around it.
But it was more than size. It looked as though someone had poured a lightly
beaten mixture of egg-whites and whipping cream over the entire thing, as well
as over his belly and balls.
"Here, he said, tossing me his shorts. "Wipe your face off, bitch. You can't
clean shit with your face like that." Under his breath: "Fuckin' idiot."
"Yes, master," I said gratefully. "Thank you, master."
I wiped what I could from my dripping mug, then bent over his cock again. I
lifted it, hefted it in my hands. It was slippery with the stuff - "fuck-sauce,"
I thought to myself. And it was heavy.
Prayerfully, I touched my lips to it.
I slurped at it.
I ran my tongue from one end to the other, sucking up the mixture of Jesse's
and Tina's cum; peeled back his foreskin, lapped eagerly at the still-oozing
head, then lifted the whole thing up and worked on his balls for a while. I
cupped them and lifted them to my face, kissing and sucking, rubbing my face on
his slack nut-skin, lifted his flabby scrotum up higher, too, to get at the
other side, and that's when I smelled it: the unmistakable smell of ass.
Incredibly, my penis jumped.
A little fuck-sauce had trickled down the bulging muscle at the base of his
nuts, entering the crack, and I got to work, tonguing it with gusto, but I
hadn't gotten very far before he cuffed my head.
"Do my belly," he murmured.
My ministrations didn't seem to be turning him on. I was a little hurt, and
more than that, I was hard, achingly hard. But I knew better than to argue. With
a sigh I slurped at the cooling puddle on his smooth stomach, probing his navel,
lapping at the little puddles in the hollows near his hips... Then I sucked at
the golden hairs above his cock, until they stood in damp peaks.
I fondled my penis furtively. Oh, Christ, Jesse...
"Mmmm... Ohhhh, master..."
"Relax, fuckface. You're not my girlfriend, you're the janitor. Just get it
clean."
I whimpered plaintively, but did as ordered.
The Show Must Go On
I was sucking the last of the creamy mix from under his foreskin when
something slammed into my stomach. With a whoof I flopped to my side. It was
Tina; she had kicked me, kicked me away like an old tin can. Just a piece of
trash. I lay still, nursing my stomach and my hard-on, praying she wouldn't kick
me again.
"So," she said, grinning naughtily at Jesse, "I seem to remember that you
told me only a woman was going to touch your cock."
He looked at her blankly.
"That first day you came to visit? When you bragged about jerking off for
cash in the park?"
"Oh, yeah!!" he laughed. "Well, in the first place, Myron isn't a man. The
bitch ain't exactly a woman, but I've seen clits bigger than that thing between
its legs, so it's definitely not a man. Especially not after you hammered its
nuts. And secondly, it wasn't a turn-on, at least not for me. This sack of shit
is about as sexy as a public toilet. No, I'm just using your husband for a
little clean-up."
"Good," she said. "I was about to get angry at him." She turned to me,
amused, cruel... truly goddess-like. "I was thinking it might be time for
another spanking. Maybe it is."
Spanking? Good God - did she mean what I thought she meant? I felt the blood
drain from my face. There was no way my nuts could withstand another round of
abuse; if the damage wasn't permanent now, it certainly would be in two more
paddle-whacks. I scrabbled to my feet.
"No!" I shrieked. "No, no, no, please! Oh god - Oh god, please! No! Tina,
don't - don't do that to me again." I was crying now, covering my nuts with both
hands. Both Jesse and Tina were chuckling at my terror; I didn't care. I didn't
care how amusing this was to them. I only knew that I would do whatever it took
to save myself from another such beating. "You can do anything. I... I'll dance
the chicken-dance again." I smiled through my tears eagerly, desperately. "I'll
masturbate for you again and do another confession. There's more to confess, I
just know I can think of more things, if you'll give me more time." I sank to my
knees and clasped my hands together. "Please--"
SLAP! Jesse had lashed out, unpredictable as always. My head snapped to the
side, and I bit my tongue.
Ouch.
"Ah. Th-th-thank you, master. Please slap me again, if you want to."
But they'd forgotten me. They'd forgotten all about me, Myron, the poor,
shivering, cum-slopped husband. They were talking together. And that wasn't
good. No, it wasn't good at all. God only knew what evil, twisted plans they
were coming up with now.
A public humiliation at Le Bernardin? I didn't think I could handle that. No,
that might drive me to suicide.
Castration...?
I whimpered aloud.
The ringing in my ears from this latest slapping was keeping me from hearing
what they were saying, so I plunged on.
"You can do anything. I'm your toy. Your funny little toy. I'll... I'll be
your t-t-toilet. Wouldn't that be funny?" They were ignoring me. "You can piss
on me. Piss in my face, and I'll... Or you can shit in my face. Take a big crap
on Myron's face, how about that! Ha ha! Only please... Please, please not my
nuts--"
"Myron," said Tina sweetly, "if you don't shut your fat, disgusting,
ass-licking mouth, you'll get the worst ball-busting of the century."
I shut up.
"Actually," she purred, "we were just talking about how hard this must have
been for you so far. The humiliation. The torture."
She walked up to me, and as she approached I was struck anew by her demeanor:
like a Celtic warrior-queen, she radiated a grandeur mixed with a hint of
blood-lust. And, of course, she looked spectacular. Tina moved close, until I
could smell the smell of fresh fuck rising from her splendid, firm young bod.
Only inches away... My knees were shaking, threatening to lose their starch
completely. Her trembling, glistening breasts were only a couple of inches away
from my own pallid, hairy bitch-tits. I felt faint.
Tina... my angel.
My wife.
"So hard," she sighed sadly. "So hard for poor, sweet Myron."
"S-s-sweet...?"
"Mm hm. So we think it's time to reward you for all your hard work."
"Reward?" I felt a broken smile contort my features. If I knew my wife, it
wasn't going to be a trip to Jamaica. Hopefully it wouldn't hurt too much.
"Thank you, Tina."
"Of course, you already had a little birthday snack," jeered Jesse, hoisting
his great big cock. "Right, faggot?"
I licked my lips nervously. "Yes, master."
"So maybe you're ready for dessert."
"D-d-dessert...?" What the hell did he mean by that? "Y-y-yes, master..."
"And a little ass-fucking. You faggots like that kind of thing. Right? You
like havin' stuff shoved up your little assholes?"
"I..."
"Course you do. But you need to sing for it, bitch."
"That's right," giggled Tina. "We want a song. What's that stupid shit you
listen to all day? That guy you like so much?"
I racked my brains, which seemed to be working rather sluggishly. Too much
was happening at once; my asshole was clenching and unclenching spasmodically in
anticipation of whatever they were going to do to it, and of course I was pretty
well fried after the hell my wicked little wife and her muscular stud had put me
through. Stupid shit I listened to all day...? Then it came to me.
"B-b-barry Manilow?"
"That's the one," she laughed. "Barry fucking Manilow. Jesus Christ, Myron,
you are one pathetic loser, you know that?"
"Y-y-yes, Tina." I nodded enthusiastically. "I am a pathetic loser. A
cock-hungry faggot who needs a good hard ass-fucking. A sniveling--"
POW! Another slap across the face. Spittle sprayed from my mouth again, then
hung in a slick line from my slap-numbed lips.
"Th-th-thank you, Tina. What song would you like, Tina?"
She leaned close, so that I could smell her intoxicating scent - a heady
mixture of expensive perfume and freshly pounded pussy. Christ, she was
something else. Beautiful!
"How about... Memories," she murmured.
Then she wrapped her fingers in my hair and wrenched my head down. I yelped
and hobbled after her, my hands fluttering helplessly near hers (I didn't dare
touch them), until she had dragged me to the party table. I registered, just
briefly, the big cheerful-looking banner emblazoned with the words "Happy
Birthday, Myron."
Thirty-three years old.
I giggled, despite the pain in my scalp. The table was loaded with coconut
creme pies - my favorite, as she had so sweetly pointed out earlier; a lot of
them, certainly over twenty. In fact, I realized, probably thirty-three of them,
thirty-three ripe, white, fluffy mounds, the deluxe size, a full twelve inches
across, each topped with a single maraschino cherry. The sweet smell was
overwhelming.
She slammed me face down onto the surface, winding me and crushing several of
the pies under my flabby torso in the process; the viscous goo oozed over the
folded edges of the pie tins, curling out past my sides. I giggled again. Jesse
had called me a clown and a maid wrapped up in one, and sure enough, in my high
heels and stockings, bent over the party table in a slimy mess of coconut creme,
I felt like I qualified.
A heavy slapping sound got my attention.
Jesse and Tina were standing in front of me. His incredible cock dangled in
front of my face, and my head swam. My penis hadn't yet lost its erection, and I
reflected that, if nothing else, I had finally and completely overcome my
impotence.
Tina was next to him, and in one dainty little hand she was holding a
sausage, slapping it again and again into the open palm of the other hand.
A big sausage. A foot long, a couple of inches thick...
"What do you think, Myron?" she crooned.
What did I think? Here's what I thought. I thought that in a minute this
thing was going to slide deep into my anus. I had gleaned that I was going to
have to sing for the privilege. And I had the growing suspicion that my wife
would somehow manage to involve the pies, as well.
A shiver of masochistic delight ran through me.
"I'm ready, Tina. Myron is ready."
Her musical laughter danced in my wears as she made her way to the other side
of the table, behind me.
"You know," said Jesse in an offhanded tone, "this was all your wife's idea.
The whole thing. Tina has a pretty fucked-up sense of humor."
"Y-y-yes master..."
I felt the tip of the thing suddenly nudge my ass, and groaned in mingled
fear and eagerness. Tina pressed a little harder, then stopped. A moment later
she raised the meat high and brought it down hard against my backside, and I
gave a little ecstatic cry of pain.
"Sing for it, cumsucker," she hissed. "Sing for your ass-fucking. Sing like a
good little fag."
I took a deep breath.
And I sang.
"Memmmorieees..."
The warbling falsetto broke them up at once. That's it, boys and girls.
Laugh. Laugh at the clown.
"All aloooone in the mooo-- NGAAHH!!"
The bitch had shoved it in, hard, and I screamed. Tears started from my eyes.
My guts were blazing, my hole stretched until I thought it would rupture. But it
didn't. Instead, my little candy-corn-sized hard-on gave an excited jump. And
she pulled it out some. I was panting, and whimpering, and I'd completely
forgotten my orders until Jesse grabbed a fistful of my already-abused hair and
yanked, hard.
"Sing," he said curtly.
"Uh! Uh god... Hoo... I..." How the hell did it go? My asshole was on fire.
"M-m-moooonliiight... I can smile at the ooooold dayyyys..." More laughter. It
was funny. This was funny to them: raping the cuckold's ass was a big joke.
Yes. And his microdick was trembling for release.
"It was byooo-- WAAUGH!!"
Thrust number two. Deeper this time.
Abruptly she let go, closed her fist around my hair, and yanked upward,
hauling me to a standing position. Atten-SHUN! Clots of coconut creme flopped
from my chest to the floor at my feet with wet smacks, and I was forced to keep
my legs spread a little to accommodate the sausage jutting from my anus. Tears
were streaming down my face, tears of pain. She released my hair and walked back
to join Jesse, who was hefting one of the pies in his hands, testing its weight
appreciatively.
"Keep singing," she said with a grin.
I mastered myself with difficulty and opened my mouth.
"It was beautiful thennnn..."
Jesse hefted the pastry a few more times, then cocked his arm back. He
hesitated, eyes shining, lips parted, and I saw his big, still-dribbling penis
rise a little. Yes, he was enjoying this immensely. Savoring it. In a second the
kid was going to paste me with coconut creme as though I were a carnival booth
patsy, and the thought of humiliating his woman's shrimp-dicked husband like
this was clearly turning him on. I swallowed, gathered myself, and forged on.
"I remember," I warbled, "the time I knew...
Then he let it fly, and I saw it coming, sailing through the air with
unerring accuracy toward my face, my ridiculous clown face, open-mouthed in
song.
"...what hah--"
SPLAT!
And the first pie of the evening hit me square on the nose. Fragments of
creme whipped past my head with the force of Jesse's mighty throw.
I rocked back a little. More laughter.
"Nice arm, baby," I heard my wife tell her lover.
The time I knew what happiness was... The words came back to me in a rush. I
felt suddenly that Barry must have written the song for just this occasion; it
was too perfect. I was really crying now. Heavy creme filling hung on my face; a
hunk of the sweet glutinous stuff slid from one eyebrow to land on my penis. But
I couldn't stop singing.
"Dayyyylight... I must wait for the--"
SPLAT! A second pie, plastered directly on top of the first. I licked my
lips, sobbed once, and kept right on going.
"...the sunrise... I must think of a newwww liiiife--"
SPLAT! This one hit my chest. Their laughter was so bright, and happy, and
merciless...
"...and I mustn't give innnn..."
SPLAT! One for the crotch. My balls throbbed in silent protest from the
impact, and I bent over just a little, with a huff of pain. The pie hung wetly
between my legs for several seconds before unsticking itself and landing on my
feet.
And my penis bobbed up, thickly coated, and more excited than ever.
Keep on going, Myron. Ignore the ache in your ass, the dull pain in your
swollen nutsac. Ignore the sore ankles from the high-heeled shoes. Stop crying,
you fucking baby, and give your masters what they want...
"When the dawwwwn comes, tonight will be a--"
SPLAT!
"...a memory tooo--"
SPLAT!
They were coming fast and thick, now. I was singing the best I could, but it
was difficult. Touch me, I sang. It's so easy to leave me. All alone with the
memory. Of my day in the sun.
And still they pelted me, my chest, stomach, every inch of me, until I was
dripping head to toe with the stuff.
I couldn't see any more, or I would have known to brace myself, because Jesse
must have wound up for this last pitch like a pro; all I knew was that the final
pie slammed into my face with incredible force, as though it had been fired from
a cannon. The impact knocked me completely off balance. One leg shot out from
underneath me on the cream-slick floor, the other slid after it, and then I was
flat on my back, a sodden mass, sobbing uncontrollably.
"Hey. Bitch."
Jesse. He was standing over me, his legs apart, like a warrior, with his
thick, proud penis swinging between his legs. I gulped, started to get to my
feet.
"Naw, bitch, you don't have to get up. Just stay on your knees. That's it.
Look up at Jesse, now. Good, bitch. Okey-dokey, we're gonna get you cleaned off,
here, don't you worry none."
That's when he started pissing in my face. I was too dazed to move, or even
to shield my face from the hot, rancid stream that was suddenly splashing
against it. All I could do was kneel there, dazed, my mouth open a little, as
Jesse pissed all over me.
He was one of those guys, of course, who could hold it for a long time. Not
like me; in the course of a normal day I had to pee every forty minutes or so,
and then it was just a five-second trickle. But Jesse was an accomplished
beer-drinker; he could put a twelve-pack away easily without having to empty his
bladder; and this ultimate humiliation lasted almost a minute. A minute doesn't
seem like a long time in some situations, but when your wife's lover is using
your face as a urinal, it feels like forever. And the stream was heavy and hard;
he was staling like a thoroughbred stallion.
Finally he was done. With a contemptuous shake of his massive cock he planted
his foot on my creme-coated chest and shoved me back down.
"Now," he said calmly, as if he were a teacher explaining homework, "you've
had your birthday snack. And you had your dessert. And daddy cleaned you up. But
before you have your nap, you need a little something to top it all off."
I stared dully at him.
I had just been pissed on. My balls had been clobbered, my face slapped
repeatedly. I had been forced to confess my sexual perversions in front of my
wife and her lover while masturbating my puny dick. I'd performed a lame
rendition of one of the most pathetically sappy songs of the twentieth century
for the privilege of having a sausage shoved up my asshole, and of serving as a
target for a table-full of creme pies. The two of them had fucked like wild
animals in front of me - me, her lawfully wedded husband. And my lawfully wedded
wife had forced me to slurp away at her sloppy cunt afterwards.
And now they had... something to top it off.
Jesse stepped over me. All I could see of him were his mighty legs, his
low-slung balls, that incredible cock, and the two round mounds of asscheek,
covered in the lightest peach fuzz. And as he lowered himself, I knew.
He had suggested I might get to taste his ass earlier. Well, here it came.
The first thing to happen was that his big balls flopped heavily over my nose
and rolled forward, to loll across my forehead. It was like having a warm,
greasy mound of bread-dough spreading across the upper half of my face; I
couldn't see a damn thing. The second thing to happen was that I felt the lower
half of my face abruptly buried deep between his warm, sweaty buttocks. The
third thing...
The third thing was his tender young asshole, which came to rest directly
against my mouth.
At last.
I had given up every last shred of human dignity a long time ago. Clutching
blindly at his hips, I pulled him even more tightly down over my face and stuck
my tongue hungrily into his tight, pink anus, as far as I could. The pungent
taste, the velvety feel of it were driving me frantic with need; my little
dingus was rigid and throbbing, while my own anus clenched and unclenched around
the thick sausage that had stretched it to its limit.
"Yeah," he said hoarsely. "That's it, bitch. Lick it. Lick your master's
ass..."
"Grmmph!"
"Now... unh!... now watch this..."
Then he reached down and hauled his balls away from my face and over to one
side. His big, sweaty sac was draped across my left cheek, now, with result that
I had a clear view, and there it was: his cock, his huge young cock in all its
firm, turgid glory, suspended over my face like a fucking girder. I groaned,
watching the thing swell, overextend its foreskin, rise some, fall back a
little, then rise a little more... Until finally it was standing tall and proud
over me, like one of those ancient, featureless European idols carved of stone.
Pre-cum was trickling nonstop down that awesome shaft, rolling over his sac to
streak itself across my face as I grunted and snorted with my tongue up his
asshole.
Tina was standing over me, too, now. My wife, towering over me like a
magnificent sex goddess lording it over a cowering supplicant. And as I watched,
my wife lowered herself down, facing her lover, until she had planted her
pussylips against his bulbous cockhead.
I watched the whole thing from between their legs. And I think I'll never see
anything quite like it again. I mean, I'd seen it earlier, but this was
different. His asshole spasmed on my tongue as she forced herself down, her
fuck-loosened cunt spreading its mouth a little more easily this time to
accommodate Jesse's incredible girth, her round eighteen-year-old derriere
sinking toward my adoring gaze...
...and the fucking began.
It wasn't easy; when she slammed downwards, his ass bore down on me with
about twenty extra pounds of force. But on the other hand I was watching it all
from a ringside seat, as it were. What an honor!
"Oh, my fuckin' GOD," he bellowed, "this is the SHIT! You fuckin' me while he
eats my ass... FUCK yeah!"
"Yeah," she panted, laughing a little, "yeah, Jesse, you PIG, that's IT! Ride
his FACE! EAT it, Myron, you miserable FUCK! Eat a real man's SHIT while I FUCK
him...!"
It didn't take long at all. I think having me down there was a bigger turn-on
to them then they would have been likely to admit; certainly it was the crowning
humiliation, having me service Jesse's shithole while they fucked, quite
literally, in my face. As for me, Myron Lipshitz, I was in a state of
masochistic ecstasy. My hands were occupied either in pulling my master's
buttocks apart to nuzzle his asshole more deeply, or in grabbing his hips; I
wasn't touching myself at all. And yet, slowly but surely, without even touching
myself, I was getting closer and closer to orgasm.
Pretty soon the flow of his semen, mixed with my wife's juice, was pooling in
my ears, nostrils, and hair. I was grunting more urgently now.
"Mmmph! Mmmph!"
"Christ, fuck shit piss, ah, GOD, yeah, bitch, fuck it, fuck it fuck it FUCK
IT--"
"Oh Jesse ohmygod ohmygod you... you... big... fucking... STUD--"
"Oh! Unh! Unh! Ah! AHHH--"
"AAAAHHHH!"
And we came.
I could feel it this time; his balls were resting against my cheek, and I
could feel something rushing inside them, and then his cum was everywhere,
rolling down his schlong like a 32 ounce milkshake, streaming from Tina's pussy,
pouring over my snuffling face as I screamed my own pleasure (which isn't easy
to do with your tongue up someone's ass).
I lay there under his butt for a while, lapping weakly at his sphincter, as
Jesse and my wife kissed softly, gently, letting the waves of their orgasm
shudder through them.
A Fresh Beginning
Finally Tina eased herself off from his still semi-hard cock, and Jesse got
to his feet.
I lay there, limp, unmoving. My face was soaked in their cum, my nose and
mouth full of the taste and smell of Jesse's shit. I was spent. Used.
Wasted.
"Okay," said Jesse. "Here's the deal, shitface."
I gurgled faintly.
"We've got a few photos of our little birthday party extravaganza."
I nodded weakly. Nothing surprised me.
"Photos of you jerking off in women's clothes and shit. Eating my ass. A few
scandalous little items like that."
I trembled briefly, took a deep, shuddering breath, exhaled.
"...uh huh..."
"Got it?" he demanded
"...yes, master."
"Good," said Tina crisply. "Then here's how it is. I'd divorce you and take
half of what you own, but I'd rather just have it all. We could kill you, of
course... But frankly, I think I like having you around." She giggled. "It's
fun."
"...fun...?"
"And don't deny it: you seem to enjoy receiving the humiliation as much as we
like doling it out to you. You were desperate for it tonight, Myron. Begging for
it. In fact, ever since I met you, I knew this was what you were after."
"Fuckin' sicko," grinned Jesse.
"...yes, master."
"So," she concluded, "we stay married. You and I will remain the owners of
all this luxury, just like always. But the reality is that you're our bitch.
You'll do the cooking and cleaning. You'll pick up after us. You'll run our
errands. You'll wait on us hand and foot."
"...yes, Tina."
It didn't sound so bad, really.
"And in return..." She and Jesse looked at each other, and smiled wickedly.
"In return, we'll let you watch us fuck. Every once in a while, of course, not
all the time. You can feast your tortured little eyes on us, when we say it's
okay. And if these terms aren't acceptable, well..." She made a camera of her
hands, pressed an imaginary button.
Click.
I heaved myself up to one elbow.
"Tina... Tina, I..." I hung my head, almost afraid to look at her. "Darling,
I love you. And I... I want you to be happy. B-b-blackmail... you don't have to
worry about it. And..." I swallowed hard. "And yes, I... I like it."
"Yeah?" She laughed. "Well, maybe we'll post the photos around town anyway
someday, just for kicks. In the meantime..."
"I'm hungry," announced Jesse.
I got slowly, painfully to my feet.
"Yes, master."
"I want grits. Grits and bacon, and tater tots. And some collard greens or
something. Fuckin' your wife always makes me hungry for real food, not that fag
shit you're so fond of making."
"Yes, master. Tina?"
"Oh, something light and refreshing. A smoothie. Raspberries and bananas and
vanilla ice cream. And personally, Myron, I like the 'fag shit,' as Jesse calls
it. So I guess you'll have to get used to making a variety of foods."
"Yes, Tina."
I looked at them fondly, and a little fearfully. My master, so big and
powerful. And my gorgeous wife, like a young queen.
"Well, bitch?" snapped Jesse, as he stroked Tina's nipple to hardness. "Get a
fuckin' move on. I need some energy food before I fuck again."
"Yes, master. Right away, master."
And walking delicately because of the sausage in my ass, my shoes sploshing
wetly with each step, I minced my way up to the kitchen. I risked a backward
glance: they were making out again, two golden, insatiable teenagers working
their way lazily back up to another bout of stormy, unbridled fucking. Yes, they
were meant to do this, to mate and be slaved over by me. A woman like my wife
deserved to be filled, and Jesse was, after all, the ultimate one-man filling
station; I'd been such a silly, stupid fool to resist. They were truly special.
And it was a privilege to serve them. I turned away.
I was Myron Lipshitz, I reminded myself as I climbed the stairs.
I was an amusing clown.
A servile maid.
A pussywhipped, groveling cuckold.
And underneath it all, I was, and always would be...
A classic, grade-A putz.
