EE part 2

PHILADELPHIA, 5:39 PM

Easterling Esplinger Dill lay back on his bed, rubbing and pulling his cock...oh, it felt so good, and as he rubbed his frenum, the tiny area under his glans, he heard his bedroom door knock.

 

"EE dear?" Mother's voice came through. "I'm home. Do you want anything? I bought some crullers at the bakery." Mother was concerned, and a little worried about her son.

 

"No no, Mother, I'm just resting in here, I'm fine" EE said with a smile in his voice. His mother patted the door in a friendly way and went into the kitchen. EE knew that now that Mother had been in therapy for seven years, she still felt terribly guilty about the way she'd raised him, though he told her time and again that he thought it had done him good.

 

EE's mother had had a nervous bipolar disorder, and when EE had upset her or pissed her off when he was young, she'd always retaliated by making him strip and giving him fifty with the hairbrush and another twenty-five with a razor strop.

 

Then she'd make her sobbing son dress in his sister's pink and white party dress, tied with a ribbon in the back, and make him put on Mary Janes with high white knee socks.

 

Mother then would drag EE out into the street, down to the vacant lot where the gang was always playing stickball or shooting craps. "Look boys...my little girl here forgot to do the dishes again" Mother would say as she shook her boy in his pink dress in front of the laughing kids.

 

"Can I borrow your leather belt, Johnnie, to show little princess here how to act?" Sometimes there would be some tough looking girls there along with the boys, and one would pull her belt off and hand it to Mother, who would pull EE's panties down for yet another whipping.

 

This of course ensured that EE didn't have many friends until he went away to boarding school...and then he was routinely humiliated by Mother whenever he came home. Sometimes she would put him in adult diapers and make him sit in the yard, for hours.

 

EE recalled once when a group of black cheerleaders from the vocational high school had come by and thrown empty cans and bottles at him..."Diaper boy you are SUCH  a faggot" one had said, aiming a Nehi bottle at his head.

 

 This life had not stopped until EE was twenty years old, when Mother had gone to the hospital for a suicide attempt. All the abuse had come out, and she'd gotten therapy, and had never quite finished apologizing to her son for what she'd put him through!

 

EE just felt that life had gotten boring after Mother got well. He'd really felt that a little discipline wasn't a bad thing...but things were different now!

 

Now, EE lay back on his bed, toying with his balls and pulling his cock.  It had been nearly a week since Mistress Olivia had reamed him out over the phone for begging to cum...Truly, EE loved edging his cock! But it would have been so nice to get to squirt. Now she was making him send her money, just for asking!

 

But still, EE was quite the jerk-boi. Before he'd discovered the joys of masturbation uninterrupted by orgasm, EE would always wear his poor dick out, cumming three or four tiems a day and then having little else to do.

 

Kelsey, EE's little sister had first interested EE in longtime sexual teaseing when, after one of their adolescent sex games, she'd forbidden EE to jerk off.

 

"You are so disgusting, EE" Kelsey had said as she'd bound EE's wrists to the headboard of her bed. EE was furious. He'd spent three hours licking Kelsey between her legs, and giving her about twelve orgasms...and now she'd tied him down and was getting dressed!

 

Kelsey had left the room for about an hour, and come back, eating an ice cream cone in front of EE...licking it slowly as she smirked at him.

 

This had driven him wild, and finally, as she'd finished the cone she'd squatted between his spread legs on the bed, tossing her ash-blonde hair over a tanned shoulder.

 

As Kelsey's breasts had heaved in giggles in the pink tube top, she'd begun jerking EE's dick, up and down, letting her French nails tickle and stroke his pulsating penis, pulling an adorably small thumb up and over his glans.

 

Suddenly she'd begun rubbing faster and faster, and EE had felt the semen rising. He'd moved his hips about, moaning and groaning...it was coming, this was it!!!!

 

But then, just as he'd been about to cum, Kelsey had pulled her hand away, and his dick had just swung in the air, with no stimulation.

 

EE had laid their and gasped for nearly two hours as Kelsey had jerked him faster and faster, pulling her hand away just in time before he was about to spurt, until finally the very last time she'd jerked real fast, and he'd shot himself in the face with his sperm, and she'd fallen off the bed laughing.

 

Eventually Kelsey had found a boyfriend she liked playing with more, and EE had been left to his own devices. He'd dated a bit, but found that it was more comfortable to just be alone with his dick, fantasizing about women that he'd met here and there, or just seen.

 

For instance right now, as EE lay on the bed with his purple dick in his hand, he thought of Miss Mimms, the tough looking secretary who worked for EE's boss. She sat outside the boss's office, cracking her gum, tossing her teased strawberry curls, and breathing heavily, making her huge breasts bounce in usually a tight cashmere sweater.

 

Sometimes EE would hear Miss Mimms talking to her girlfriends on the phone, and she was not stingy with words like fuck, ain't and asshole. "Who the fuck that asshole think he is," Miss Mimms would say angrily "takin' me to some cheap-ass show!"  Then her long nails would drum on her desk, and EE would often run to the bathroom, pull his pants down in the stall and pump his dick, fantasizing...

 

That Miss Mimms was sitting on a stool tapping a hairbrush against her palm as EE stood in front of her, stark naked. In the fantasy, Miss Mimms was wearing a black leather catsuit with miniskirt...

 

 "Get over my knees you asshole" the fantasy Miss Mimms would say, as her lacquered lips popped her gum, "Yer gettin' the whippin' of yer life." And then, as EE jacked his dick, the fantasy EE would go over Miss Mimm's knees, his penis scraping her miniskirt, as he endured the vicious whipping of the hairbrush.

 

Then the fantasy would move to EE being in tears, rubbing his buttocks as Miss Mimms toyed with his stiff, purple penis, scraping it and pinching it. "Who the fuck you think you are, you horny bastard?" the fantasy Miss Mimms would say...

 

Now, EE lay on his bed where he could jerk even easier, and thought of Miss Mimms in the sundress she'd worn that morning at work, and what it would be like to be bound and trapped beneath her high heels, one heel pounding in his scrotum as the other punctured the glans of his cock!

 

Other times EE thought of a mysterious woman he'd seen repeatedly on the subway...the Tank Top girl...her boobs hung in a different tight tank top every day, and she had such a bored, sexy look that EE would dash to be on the same car as she was, even if he had to stand and hold the metal bar and stare at her, instead of sitting in an empty seat five feet away.

 

EE often fantasized, as he lay in his bed, rubbing his bloated penis, about the Tank-Top Girl thrashing him with a razor strop, turning him over after his buttocks were bloody and using the belt end on his penis...sometimes EE would tie a little string around his penis and balls and pull it to make his dick even more engorged as he jerked, thinking of the Tank Top girl, who, on Tuesday had complemented her tank top with a leather jacket...

 

He'd imagined her whipping and kicking him as he lay naked and crying before ordering him to be raped and beaten by an imaginary group of male Hell's Angel's. Other times he'd imagine Tank-Top Girl putting out her Marlboro Light on the tip of his penis...

 

Then there was a woman in a toll booth who he'd fantasized about for months, and the next door neighbor's piano teacher, who winked at EE occasionally.

 

Now and then EE went out on dates with actual women, but he never got much out of it. As his fantasies were all about lower-class girls with big hair who were dominating, he had little interest in the women who liked him.

 

These were usually small breasted girls who didn't wear much makeup and tended towards long dresses and Birkenstock sandals. They made great friends--hey, when EE wasn't jerking himself, he liked to talk about politics and literature and the environment...but to have sex with these women was usually a terrible disappointment.

 

EE just didn't have much interest in rolling around on a bed with a flat-chested woman whose ideas came out of "Nation" magazine...much better for him to roll around on the bed by himself, jerking his rigid cock and thinking about a surly teenager who'd twitched by him, waving her ass and shooting a cigarette butt into the street...

 

EE grasped his shaft and tried to bend his dick. Oh it  was so hard. EE rubbed up to his glans and back down, and thought of the little hotties he'd seen that day.

 

One girl had come out of a dance studio cursing a blue streak about something... not more than twenty years old...oh, how EE would love to have her mad at him, ordering him to strip and kneel prostate before her as she pulled out a cat o nine tails!

 

EE's life of fantasy was better than most guy's reality he thought...but it sure would be nice to have a real dominant girlfriend!

LAREDO, TEXAS, 5:52 PM

Downey put down the phone from his probation officer. "Dude wants me to get a job. He thinks I'm dealing drugs again." Downey smirked at his obese sister Colette. "Fucker thinks I'm going to work at the car wash, he's crazy, and he'd be NUTS if he knew what we were doin' for pin money right now.

Colette shifted her 323 pound body on the now gasping beanbag in the corner. "Can we get some pizza, Downey?" She smirked. "I got that dumbass stockbroker in Hotdog wherever it was, the foreigner--

 

Downey laughed. "Hotdog? Frankfurt, you xenophobic moron. Frankfurt Germany, not to be confused with our client in Frankfort, Kentucky, who wears tutus."

 

Colette laughed. "Yee-ah. Th' German dude. He-he felt guilty about jerking his dick that I made him cut the wire on his lamp, plug it in and give hisself little shocks...he sent us 200 euros. But we hadda pay th' gas bill. Now I want some pizza, and I want it NOW."

 

Downey smirked. "I think our little friend in Pennsylvania may be able to send us some money via Mistress Violet...if you make a call about now."

Colette reached for the phone. Downey grinned. His fat sister wanted some pizza, and Downey himself was quite interested in filling a nice Percocet prescription he'd purchased from Dr. Wino on South Boulevard...cash would be nice from Mr. E.E.Dill!

PHILADELPHIA, 7:30

Violet looked at her watch. The doorbell would be ringing it just a moment. She looked at her cane, and re-adjusted her adorable tube-top. This was a new way of making the bacon, she thought, but Downey, who'd lived in the trailer next to her foster mother back in Houston, was never at a loss, that boy.

BZZZZZZZZ! There was the bell. Violet washed a Dilaudid down with the last of a Samuel Adams Honey Porter beer and went to answer the door.

Good God. There was a man wearing a trench coat and bright red pumps with six inch high heels. "You E.E. Dill?" Violet asked, scratching her chin. It sure wasn't the Jehovah's Witnesses.

 

EE looked at Lady Violet with adoration. Five eleven at least, with short dark hair and a hot pink tube top and short-shorts, she gazed back at him with a look of bored contempt.

EE shuffled in on the high heels, stopping at the couch. "Mistress Olivia called me and told me to come see you, Lady Violet." he said hesitatingly.

Lady Violet looked at him and held out her hand. "And the tribute, scum-bag?"

EE reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat and pulled out one thousand dollars in small bills, just as Mistress Olivia had requested.

 

"This is an awfully big tribute." EE had said, hesitatingly. His salary was quite munificent,but a thousand dollars was more than he was used to giving. Unfortunately, it was Mistress Olivia's only condition upon which he might--MIGHT get to orgasm tonight.

 

Lady Violet took the money from EE, laughing. "Yes, it's a bit much, and actually I plan on burning it on an altar in the back room. This is just to show your commitment to me, slug. But now, take off your trenchcoat."

 

EE hesitated, saw Lady Violet's brow furrow, and dropped the trenchcoat on the floor... Lady Violet took one look at him, and began laughing, her heavy breasts bouncing in the tube top.

EE knew he looked ridiculous. He was naked except for the heels, and covered in rat-traps.

 

Lady Olivia had ordered EE to purchase one hundred rat traps  and put them all over his body...on his shoulders, his nipples, his stomach, his back, his elbows, snapping up the loose flesh on his arms and legs, and of course there was one hanging cruelly from the end of his penis and three on each side of his shaft.

 

And five  traps on his testicles, to the point that he'd had to walk with his legs bowed the entire way to Miss Violet's apartment. On his back, buttocks and thighs the traps lined up like dominoes--how EE had been able to put them on himself had been a near miracle.

 

Lady Violet stepped up, swinging her cane lightly and snapped the first trap off EE's shoulder, and he bit his lip. SNAP! WHACK! SNAP! Three more came off...what followed was a most unpleasant half hour for EE Dill.

 

But all good things come to an end, and finally, as EE lay sobbing on the floor, Lady Violet knocked the very last trap off the back of his right knee.

 

"So now you expect to cum, is that it? Olivia told you...what, that if you came over here in this ridiculous get up of rat-traps that I'd let you cum once they were knocked off?" Lady Violet laughed casually as she slapped her cane into her right hand.

 

She walked up and down the room, laughing, and watching EE sob and squirm on the floor. He had been a right loud little crybaby, especially when she'd gone for his nipples and genitals...what fun it had been slapping off those rat-traps, two and three at a time.

 

Several times, EE had run from her, but Violet, who had been a long-distance sprinter when serving time at the Texas State Industrial Reformatory for Girls, had easily caught up to him and knocked more traps off.

 

But now she looked down at EE Dill. As she did, she heard some girlish laughter coming from the hallway. The teenagers down the hall were playing Hackey Sack, a game where three people kick a small felt ball back and forth, in the hall...Three laughing seventeen year olds.

 

"Well, if you want to self-abuse, you'll have to go out in the hall to do it." Lady Violet said. "You can do it in the hall, or wait a month, and come back to see me with another thousand dollars, dear."

 

EE jumped up and went and stuck his head in the hall. Coming back he said, "I can't do it out there...there are young women playing with a ball."

 

Lady Violet laughed. "Well, good luck for next month!" and EE Dill burst into frustrated, angry tears.

 

PHILADELPHIA, 10:32 AM

Now he imagined the curvy, blonde receptionist at his mother's veterinarian. Kristi had huge rosebud lips and spoke in a breathless voice, and her breasts were like balloons stretching the "North Phillly Animal Hospital" shirt...and for a delicious moment, EE thought of her tying him down and running her pink fingernails up and down his suffering shaft, as he begged her to let him cum...please, oh please Kristi, won't you let me release, ma'am...and she'd answer, breathlessly. "No, no...bad boys don't get to cum...and wimpie boys like you don't get to feel my nice lips on their cocks...what a pitiful little faggot you are...I should let my black boyfriend fuck your mouth and your ass, EE...but until then I'll just stroke you for as long as it takes... EE could hear her saying that as he played with his dick and just imagined...Kristi the receptionist heartbreaker making his day just wonderful and miserable...oh, Kristi, please let me CUMMM....Or, what about EE's gorgeous secretary, Bronwyn? Think of how contemptuous Bronwyn would be if EE was naked, bound and gagged in front of her, how Bronwyn would toss her amber locks and laugh contemptuously, perhaps kicking EE right in the nuts in front of the rest of the office?

 

Then of course there were the nasty little gang-girls who attended the LaTieri Beauty College down the street...EE often watched them in their leather jackets with the big hair, cursing a blue streak at each other and popping their gum. Wouldn't it be something if they grabbed him one day on the way home from work and stripped him down and stomped his genitals with their high heels? Teasing him with upward flips of the miniskirt...oh torture...what agony that would be...he could jerk his cock and think of it all day!

Easterling Esplinger Dill's penis was very hard. EE stroked himself and thought of the hottie he'd seen while buying the paper that morning. She'd been wearing a yellow fuzzy pullover and tap pants, and she'd scolded her Boston Terrier for pulling on his leash with his mouth.

 

Now EE imagined himself on the leash, cowering naked as the fuzzy-sweater girl shouted at him, and perhaps struck him with a broken fishing pole. WHACK! WHACK! Four or five times on his suffering cock! EE loved it...and he could jerk off all day today, because it was Saturday, and no one could bother him.

 

EE surveyed the walls of his new efficiency. HE couldn't believe it but he'd finally moved out of Mother's house...he didn't have to sneak around anymore.

EE looked over and saw his old Hockenberry Academy blazer hanging on a doorknob and it brought back a traumatizing memory that caused EE to jakc his cock even faster. Dr. Clampe, a very old fashioned Hockenberry teacher gave out bare bottom canings for shoddy work.

One afternoon EE had been bent over his teacher's desk, his gray tweed pants crumpled round his ankles and his tie hanging over the other side of the desk.

 

EE was just receiving the last swish of twelve as he'd fumbled his Latin construe ("You translite like a village idiot! Come up, sir and take down your britches")

 

When Dr. Clampe had finished caning EE and EE's bottom was a savaged mass of welts, weals, cuts and bruises (oh, how  EE couldn't stand listening to the day student girls titter!)

Dr. Clampe took hold of EE's scalp and pulled him up. What's going on EE had thought. Usually this is when I pull up my pants and go back to my seat. 

 

Not this time. Dr. Clampe screamed "Are you students aware that whenever I cane EE Dill his filthy privates become excited?"

 

EE had been near srhock as Dr. Clampe had pulled him up without allowing him to pull up his pants, exposing his rock hard cock to the class. And how they were howling! The townie girl on scholarship, EE's biology partner, who he had such a crush on was looking sympathetic, but EE knew his chances with her were kaput now.

 

Dr. Clampe was still screaming. "Every time I  go out of my way to discipline this little pervert his disgusting pecker becomes large! Boy, are you a sodomite?"

 

EE had dropped his head in humiliation. It was true. Between the shame of having his naked bottom thrashed  and the firey look in Mr. Clampe's eye when he called EE up to be punished, EE made sure he flubbed his  translation at least three times a week.

Dr. Clampe now slapped EE across the face and then boxed his ears. "You are a filthy pervert, boy!"

 

Then Dr. Clampe had done something unbelievable. "Put your penis on this desk!" EE had looked at him in horror, but then shuffled obediently, pants clogging his ankles, til his penis had been lying across the ancient, hardwood desk. "I'll teach you to get your jollies in my class!"

Dr. Clampe had raised his cane. THWACK!  EE had almost passed out as the cane had hit his glans, smashing it into the desk firmly SWAK! The cane had hit again, but EE's cock had remained hard, even growing more rigid.

 

This had enraged Dr. Clampe, who had then begun swatting EE's penis over and over again, jumping up in down to accentuate the slashes, until finally EE's poor wee-wee had just been a limp, bloody mess. And then he'd been able to go back to his seat? No...then Dr. Clampe had made EE stand before the class with his pecker hanging out until the end.

 

Shortly after this episode, Dr. Clampe had been removed from teaching at Hockenberry Academy, and no one had seen him again...but EE remembered, and how!

 

EE leaned back, playing with the tip of his wee-wee and thinking of Dr. Clampe wherever he was, and then returned to tortuous memories of the present...what could he fantasize about?

 

For a moment he flashed on Guinevere O'Ryan, the office typist, and her angry, full jugs always stretching one striped top or the other. EE could remember passing her and hearing her tell another woman about how badly she was taking her period..."I just hate the damn tampons. I wish men had to go through this."

 

EE thought of being Guinivere's husband, and having the short-haired, big breasted woman forcing him to suck the blood from her tampons as he was tied to the dining room table...and being beaten with a wooden paddle til his buttocks were bloody for every day that she felt "icky" until the menses period was done...oh, how he loved fantasies like this one...and the more he denied his cock, the more interesting they got!

 

And he could just fantasize all he liked...for he was independent!

 

Now, if EE saw a girl with big hair smoking and cursing in the street, and he wanted to run home and self-abuse, there was no making excuses to Mother about how long he was going to be in his room, and no he didn't want to help her prune her roses.

 

If Mother was smart, she would have tied his hands behind his back and whipped his cock with a thorny branch until he begged to help her garden...but Mother had gotten therapy and she didn't do things like that any more. EE jacked his cock thinking of a good whipping from Mother, who had been quite strict with him until he was twenty, and then she'd gotten "well".

 

Oooh...now he was imagining Fuzzy-Sweater girl whipping his bare bottom with a thorny rose branch...oooh, it was nice, just thinking of the pain and humiliation...

 

Ooops! He had to slow down. EE knew that he couldn't cum until he'd been given permission by Mistress Olivia, his cyber-dom...or Lady Violet, his new local dom. They had not been very generous with permission to let EE cum.

 

But the upside to this was he got to jerk off for HOURS...and there was no stopping. Sure the pleasure of the orgasm wasn't there..but there was that great feeling of stroking, stroking and more stroking...and all those fantasies!

And no one to interrupt him now that he was living by himself!

 

This was a great apartment. It was small, but it was his and his alone.

 

EE could now play with his dick all day long if he liked, whenever he wanted to...that is, when he wasn't at work. Then it was limited to when he could sneak off to the public lavatory. EE really envied one of his friends online, FrustratedWeeWee49@yahoo, who had a trust fund and was either edging himself all day seven days a week or hiring call girls to come in and tie him down and jerk away. FrustratedWee certainly must have some blue balls by now, EE thought.

 

Wow! No more sneaking off to the bathroom, or worrying that Mother was going to be banging on the door offering him brownies when he was trying to happily beat his meat!

 

"You spend too much time in your room, honey." Yeah, right. What EE had learned at the ripe old age of thirty was...hey! It's all about masturbation. Nothing else was as cool...even screwing girls...

 

Because they had needs. Real women had all sorts of desires, and when your dick was so sensitive to your hands, it didn't get off going in and out of a weird, strange vagina while the vagina's owner was screaming "Yeah more more" while you were trying to fantasize about being whipped and tortured by a high heeled Goddess!

 

Now, EE thought he might look into getting lunch, but then again, he'd been so busy jerking off (without cumming) that he'd not gone to the grocery store,and now that he wasn't living with Mother of course no one else was shopping for him, either.

 

He actually didn't have a lot of money now...when he'd been living with Mother, rent and expense free, EE could have banked quite a bit of his fifty thousand dollar a year salary. But much of it had gone for porn, or local visits to dominatrices, and of course there had been so much cash sent to Mistress Olivia, who was "supervising" EE's masturbation schedule.

 

Mistress Olivia had charged EE $300 a month for her tutorials, plus whenever he wanted new pictures of her in hot outfits, he had to lay out between $50 and $200. Now and then she sent him videos of her exercising or whipping other slaves, and these were even more expensive. But worth it!

 

Would EE have been happier if he'd known that Mistress Olivia was a strung-out punk rock guy who used his obese sister's voice to call  EE and tantalize him on the phone? That the videos of Mistress Olivia were only ancient S&M tapes of a long gone actress called Georgia Gams? Ignorance is bliss...and EE, Edger was a bit blissful now!

 

ONE WEEK LATER
Oh God...I'm about to CUMMMM....
EE was getting too close...he grabbed his balls with his free hand, squeezing and pulling  his nuts down with his index and middle finger and thumb. EE kept the ring made with fingers and thumb around his testicles, harder and harder, and as his dick began trying to cum, he was able to "tie off" the orgasm, keeping the semen inside. Reaching into the bowl beside him, EE rubbed ice on his balls, and the oozy freezing feeling caused his testicles to become smaller, and his penis to calm itself.

 

Now EE knew that he was too close. He knew that if he touched his cock much more, there would be a big orgasm,and he was trying to be good...it was soo hard. EE had figured having his own place would mean months of edging heaven, and no troubles...and he'd taken time off work so he could just jack his dick all day, staring at porn, looking at computer images, and rolling his penis around in his hands.

 

But now his cock was so sensitive that he couldn't touch it any more! He'd promised Mistress Olivia the last time they'd been on the phone that he would try to make it to six months celibacy, and he'd thought the whole thing would be a breeze...you know, downside being he couldn't cum, but upside was he could jerk himself forever... but now it was hellish. He couldn't touch himself anyway!

 

For the past few days he had been in a state of misery. His balls were aching, his cock was throbbing, and whenever he even brushed it with a hand it began pulsating, as if to blow at any minute!

 

EE had heard of others who had gotten to this area in his edging chat room. PoundingmyPud8293@hooligan.com had once gotten to the point where he couldn't touch his dick and had to use his hips to slap it against his stomach, and MeatBeat@hotmail had to hit his dick against the doorjamb of his kitchen, for if his fingers stroked it there was sure to be an accident.

 

EE had heard stories of using dildos, anal beads, butt plugs, mineral oil, astro glide,alboline, vaseline and group edging sessions. The strangest session he'd heard about was six executives who had hired a stripper to march around in a body stocking supervising the men jacking each other endlessly for hours...no orgasming allowed!

 

EE was worried that he was going to lose his mind. He knew that there were some  out there who had become their own masters. One fellow EE had read about, Vollmer, had made a rule for himself: that he could no longer jerk himself manually, but only by rubbing his dick against the wall of his shower once a week.

 

 Vollmer had begun by allowing himself 500 rubs to get an orgasm. "If I can't make it in 500 rubs" Vollmer had said "I can't cum." 500 rubs had not gotten Vollmer his orgasm, though he'd reported being very horny when he'd stepped out of the shower.

 

The following week, Vollmer had again rubbed his penis 500 times with no luck, coming away from the shower stall weeping in frustration. But he'd sat on his hands til the next Sunday, when he'd cum in 442 rubs.

 

"Now," Vollmer informed the group, "I shall either cum in 442 rubs, or not at all." The next week, Vollmer had cum in 395 rubs. "That will be next weeks limit. If I can't cum in 395 rubs, I shan't cum at all." Now Vollmer was down to 83 rubs, and it had been several weeks since he'd cum at all. But what would he do when he'd allowed himself so few rubs there were no more orgasms? EE had to wonder.

 

As EE Dill sat carefully on his bed, keeping his hands apart from his knees and away from his crotch, he heard the laughter and conversation of people outside--playing Frisbee, picnicking, Rollerblading, and realized that indeed, he was a pathetic slave to edging...indeed he was trapped!

 

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