Princess Inge removed from her purse a thin gold chain about ten feet in length. One end was clipped to a bracelet she wore on her wrist, and the other ran through the lock affixed to the clamp that had Clem bottled-up. She could pull on the chain if she chose, and was there a better way of getting a sub’s attention? Clem was at last able to remove the frilly pink panties. “You really are small, aren’t you? I was only joking before, but shit…” She peered closer. “Wait, do you have an erection?” Dickie did, and he smiled, hoping for the best. She grabbed his chin and stuck her face inches from his. “You should save your boners for when the clamp’s off.”
She sat down on the couch and crossed her legs seductively, though her hand covered her crotch; a show of modesty perhaps, or part of the training? Dickie was told to kneel in front of her. The first thing he had to do was figure out how to remove her anklet shoe, which was not easy when the price for failure could be dire. “I’m waiting,” she said, impatiently. Dickie breathed a sigh of relief when he finally was able to ease the footwear off, and as a reward he got to admire Inge’s lovely toes. Odd, but he didn’t think that sucking on them was much in the way of punishment. He could tell that she put a lot of effort into their maintenance. The nails had a fresh coat of polish, they were perfectly shaped, they were squeaky clean, and he attacked them with gusto. He could gaze at her legs while doing so too, which enabled him to focus on something other than her crotch, no matter how tempting – not necessarily because he feared a boner, but because he feared retribution should she catch him peeking.
As always, Dickie put his best effort into everything he did, and he spent so much time on toe-number-one that Princess had to tell him get on with it. But her way of telling him also included a hard pull on the chain. If that was a harbinger of things to come, he was in trouble, because it felt like his cock was being separated from his ball sac, which was extremely uncomfortable. He better do as she suggested.
Inge could be physically intimidating. Even without her shoes, she towered over Clem. She laid down a few ground rules. He would call her Princess, as in “yes Princess” or “no Princess.” She would refer to him as “loser” or “pathetic loser”, depending on her mood, but it wasn’t personal; it merely indicated his inferior status, but it could have been worse. The tall, sultry dominatrix could have had a field day making fun of his tiny cock, and though she took the high-road for now, she wouldn’t hesitate to play the small penis card should he need to be taken down a notch. Clem must have passed the toe-sucking part of his training, because all of a sudden she said, “stand up, loser,” and removed the lock. He was hoping for some penis fondling, or physical contact of some sort, but the thrill was denied him. Whether he knew it or not, he was about to be stretched across her knees, and Inge wanted the device off because she didn’t like the feel of the plastic against her skin. “Okay, loser, take off the clamp.”
He did, and he stood naked before her, totally naked, with not even the clamp for cover, and that seemed to have struck a chord, and mere seconds after being liberated, his penis resembled petrified wood. Surely Princess noticed, and towards that end he eyed her hungrily, but she didn’t seem to care. “Okay loser,” she said, “across my lap…let’s go; don’t make me wait.”
Pain can be tolerable, and Clem rationalized his predicament thusly: he was but inches from the sweet-smelling pussy of a divine goddess. Everything about her stimulated him; her scent, her brute force – everything. His penis was unfettered and pressed against her thigh; all four-plus inches of it, because it was still erect, and warm too, from the heat of her leg. The Princess could no longer ignore it, so it felt like a victory to him. As long as he kept his hard-on she’d never break him, no matter how ferociously she smacked his ass. Her determination, her elegance, her forcefulness…Dickie fell further into her spell, with each smack reinforcing her dominance. Just being in the same zip code as Inge would be cause for celebration, but to be in her lap, with his penis squirming and straining against her luscious, silky-smooth legs…wait, this was punishment? Clem would take this scenario any time.
The day was nearing a close. His buttocks were so sore he probably wouldn’t sit down for a day. His balls were tender and swollen and stung like hell. She had kicked them, clipped weights on them so that they’d droop, and when they did, she punched them until he collapsed. But he never lost sight of the positive, and kept thinking sexy thoughts as a way to cope with the ordeal, for in the back of his mind he knew that an orgasm was on the horizon. Inge had to admit that Clem held up well, and he even had her wondering whether she was losing her touch. Lesser men were often bawling and pleading for mercy. He had earned his reward, so finally, after a lengthy wait, she uttered the words he wanted to hear. Unfortunately, for Clem, it wasn’t “Gentlemen, start your engines.” Instead it was “red light-green light,” meaning she could order him to stop masturbating at any time and interrupt his road to gratification. A man must be taught to pause, delay, or even deny their sensual pleasure, when ordered to by a superior woman.
“Okay loser, start jerking.” Princess Inge sat back on the couch and re-crossed her legs. Had he been interested he could have used the sight of her crimson panties as a beat-off tool, for she had dropped her guard in regards to modesty, but Clem didn’t require further motivation. His hand, her legs; his cock, her toes; his fantasy, her indifference…man, he was in jerkoff heaven! He looked her right in the eyes and grunted louder and louder as he neared fruition. Whacking for a woman’s pleasure, on her orders, was far superior to doing it in private for your own pleasure. If this was meant as a referendum on his manhood, Clem would pass with flying colors. He was in control; he could determine when he came simply by altering the pressure on his two-fingered system. What a great sensation; he wouldn’t mind extending it forever…
“Okay loser, red light.”
…but all good things come to an end.
“Red light, loser. Red light. Stop jerking!”
Her attitude make him jerk harder. Fuck it, he thought; I’m screwed, so I might as well get the most out of it. He needed to cum right now; he didn’t want to wait, but she was making it near impossible. Princess Inge stood up; she didn’t like being disobeyed, and Clem got a hard smack across the face for his disobedience. It was a momentum killer, not to mention a boner killer, and before he knew it, his shrunken dick was back in clampdown. He had been so close to ejaculating and, just like that, it had been taken away, and now he couldn’t cum. The long-awaited release, for which he endured a lot of suffering, was on hold.
****
The pilot episode of Boner Boys having been completed, Hideki told Jane to put together a ninety-second trailer so he could have something to show the ‘money-men’, as he put it. The final version of the episode was an hour and forty minutes in length, and even though the second scene, Connie’s scene, ended up being the longer segment, they still had to deal with the fact that there was a lot of gay sex before Connie and her pink mini entered the fray. Jane wanted the trailer to truthfully capture the essence of the episode, but not alienate the hard-core heteros who might still be in denial over the fact that their interest in Donkey was an indication they were already halfway to donning the rainbow flag.
Olivia had taken a lot of pictures on the first day of filming, and not all included Connie. Some photos had just the four men – minus Koh, who was excised from the trailer – standing shoulder-to-shoulder. “Let’s find the gayest one we can,” Jane said, and what could be gayer than boners?
“Oh, this one ain’t bad,” observed Olivia, who had been scrolling through the images. “I think it’s the best we got.” Two in-your-face erections, courtesy of Dan and Jovi; one semi-bone (Akira) and one of undeterminable status, due to the paucity of visual evidence (Clem). The homoerotic aspect of aroused, naked men with their arms linked could not be overstated, and it left little doubt about the episode’s content. Having selected the opening visual for the trailer, the title, Boner Boys was superimposed over the four nude men in the image. The video then began, making a quick pivot from homo to hetero, and showing what happens when fat thighs meet a short skirt was as hetero as they could get, so Connie’s stroll from the reception area to the locker room came next. The frame froze and the words: featuring Lady Anabella Rutherford, appeared. They wanted an uppie, and when the video resumed, Connie was sitting on the bench removing her shoes. The only possible thing that could possibly be better than fat thighs meeting a short skirt was a short skirt meeting light-blue panties.
It was time to play the homo card, so they edited in the nude walk Dan took from the locker room to the swimming pool, and the viewer was assaulted by his pecker as it swung and fluttered in the breeze. For good measure they threw in his goofy expression, on the off-chance that someone might be interested in the Donkey stallion for reasons other than anatomical. After the nude walk, five excitable dicks manhandled the overmatched girl, and Connie’s struggle to free herself offered a unique perspective on the thigh, miniskirt and panty combination they were trying to sell. There was then a quick pull-back to Dan and Koh jerking, followed by Koh’s massive ejaculation, the one that landed on Dan. The boner parade continued. Jovi had his pecker an inch from Connie’s face, looking like he was getting ready to blow, but his orgasm wasn’t shown, because Koh’s being so spectacular, they decided to make it a stand-alone event.
The trailer was then primed for another gay snippet, so the man with the goody expression stood motionless, with hands on hips, as four nude Japanese men ogled and admired his formidable, long, western dong up-close. A quick segue to Connie pegging Akira, Dickie getting the over-the-knee treatment, Dickie pulling on his pecker as he lay in her lap, and the trailer ended with a clip of Connie’s removing her panties and showing off her bush. And after the video ended, another of Olivia’s photographs filled the screen, the one where the men held Lady Anabella Rutherford aloft over their heads, and this is where the audience learned the players’ names: Donkey Dan, JJ, Little Dickie, and Mister Muscles. Jane thought it was stupid, but what about Lady Anabella, Olivia countered? That wasn’t any better. “Did you even run that past Connie,” she asked?
“She won’t care; she’s only doing this for kicks. By the way, did you know her secret fantasy is to be gang-raped?”
Olivia smiled. “Isn’t that every woman’s fantasy, but I can see where this is going. What episode?”
“Don’t know yet.” Jane smacked her lips. “Depends on the ratings.”
Trailer having been finished, Jane and Olivia wanted a viewing party; first the trailer to whet the appetite, and then the episode itself. The guest list was small and inclusive. Koh and Jovi would be there, because they were always at the house, along with Dickie, who except for his training was rarely out of Jane’s sight. She hadn’t offered him Herman’s bedroom yet, but it was still being considered. Speaking of which, they had to invite Herman, because he’d have the task of blogging the episode on the website. “Be sure to write something nice about Connie,” Jane told him. “Don’t perv on her.” As the star of the episode, Connie would most definitely have to be at the screening, and her presence would insure that Herman would be on his best behavior, in case the clamp didn’t have its usual effect. Arlene was asked to join them, because as Jane’s best friend, she just had to be there, plus her opinion was valued. She’d probably bring with her the houseboy/man-toy, the one with the wide-girthed pecker.
“Nine people,” Olivia noted. “Five dicks and four women; I think we got it…Hey wait, what about Pete?”
“Fuck him,” Jane replied. “I’m sick of his shit; besides, he’ll demand a part in an episode.”
“Yeah, but he brings chicks to the table, and we need new faces.”
“You’re right; invite the fucker.”
****
Little Dickie woke-up horny. He really could have done with an orgasm last evening, but he caught a break today, for the ball-busting was postponed, due to his testicles still being swollen from yesterday’s beat-down. That meant an extended cunt-licking session. Koh had loaned Clem his textbook on how to stimulate vaginas, explained in fully illustrated detail, but he couldn’t be bothered to read it.
He wasn’t yet ready to bathe or dress a woman, or learn how to comb hair or apply lipstick, or help them prepare for a hot date, so Inge greeted him already decked out in full battle regalia. Her makeup seemed to be perfect, as always, and the smell of her freshly-washed hair penetrated his senses. She had on a black top that stopped just short of her navel, and her black skirt was casual and loose fitting, although a few inches longer in length than what she had been wearing. It looked so comfortable that as soon as Dickie saw it he silently cursed, for it meant she’d most likely keep it on during the cunnilingus, which is why she probably chose it.
Inge sat down on the couch, lifting her skirt up as she did. The no-panties look was very appropriate, in a ‘cut-out-the-middleman’ sort of way. “Okay loser, let’s see what you can do…wait, come here.” Inge inserted the chain through the clamp’s locking device and gave it a quick tug to make sure it was working properly, Clem’s wince being her verification.
Princess Inge favored the clean-shaven look, which didn’t surprise him. He couldn’t imagine her with fur. He wanted to avoid focusing on her legs – her astonishing legs – so he dove right in and went straight to the clam. Yesterday he would have paid money to have his tongue inside her receptive, moist orifice, and today he found himself at the same location for free. The session went on for close to an hour. “You are really a pathetic loser,” she informed him. “You’ll never be able to satisfy a woman. Not with that dick. You’re only hope is to lick pussy like a pro, so come-on, loser, put some effort into it.”
It was turning into a marathon. If Clem paused too long, or lost concentration, he was rewarded with a sharp, acute sting in the most delicate of areas. He’d like to stick that chain right where his tongue was, but to everything there was a reason. The Princes was trying to teach Clem that pleasuring a woman was priority-one, even at the expense of his own gratification. Cunt-licking was an art as well as a responsibility, a chore not to be taken lightly, and wearing the clamp insured that he would be coerced into focusing on her satisfaction.
Nonetheless, so tired was Clem of the task that he was relieved when Princess decided to move on, even though moving-on meant he’d be getting fucked in the ass. He knew that as a cast member of Boner Boys he’d have things inserted into his rectum, and some of them would be penises, but he wanted to be a Boner Boy in the worst way, so all things considered, how could he complain about having a sexy Amazon with a dildo strapped around her waist doing the honors? He’d much prefer to have this done to him without the shackles of the clamp, but you can’t always get what you want. If he took handled his end the right way, which was her way, masturbation would still be a possibility, so if Princess wanted to play the red light-green light game he’d go along with it, because he needed an orgasm in the worst way.
“Okay loser, let’s see if you learned anything from yesterday. You can jerk now.” Dickie stroked gently, not wanting to get too engrossed lest he forget to stop when she demanded it. He looked directly into her eyes. He wanted her to see his expression as he played with himself, to see how much he was trying to please her. His orgasm would be her triumph too, in a way. Once or twice he thought she was about to speak, and what else could it be but a red light, so he let up on his pulling in anticipation. But Princess said not a word. Interesting, he thought, maybe she’ll let me finish. With each passing second Clem’s hunch seemed more and more accurate, so gradually, but inexorably, he increased the pressure and quickened the pace. He was getting close; another few seconds and…
“Red light, loser.”
Shit! Clem immediately released his hand and prayed. It was touch-and go, and he did whatever he could to avoid spilling right there and then. But there wasn’t much more he could do, so it was in God’s hands now. He clenched and unclenched his fists. He took deep breaths. But he persevered, and he did not ejaculate.
Inge rose and walked up behind him. She put her hand on his shoulder. “Green light, loser,” she whispered into his ear. Invigorated, Clem jerked hard, he jerked fast; he wanted to cum before she ordered another red light. It wasn’t long, ten seconds perhaps, when he began to feel the tingle. It started at his feet and quickly shot up to his groin. His legs got weak, but his cock remained strong. It was too late now, red light or not. Oh fuck, here it comes, baby. A two-day supply of love-juice had been percolating in his loins. “Ah, ah…Banzai!”
In rapid succession four voluminous, milky projectiles blasted out as if fired from a cannon, each one carrying with it a lot of spray, making the explosions seem even more impressive. There was no follow-up, no dribbling or oozing, no endless lava-flow, so in a matter of seconds it was over, but a lot got accomplished in that short time, and he smiled at her while panting in exhausted relief. That was a good cum; one of his best. By his reckoning, Inge should be down on her knees, worshipping his manhood, but instead she told him that he should have saved it for the camera. Then she told him to put the clamp back on while she retrieved the lock. Inge had a polished, hardwood floor, and the spilt semen was very visible. Dickie kind of expected that she’d make him clean up the mess, but he didn’t think she’d make him do it with his tongue. She gave him a paper towel to spit it out on, but he preferred to swallow, and once he had done so he made an unexpected beeline for her toes. But Dickie being Dickie, he neglected to swallow all of his discharged fluid, and he made sure that Inge’s toes received a dollop of semen too, mixed in with his saliva and spittle. Another small victory for Little Dickie…
****
There were two uninvited guests at the Boner Boys preview, but they were enthusiastically welcomed, and why wouldn’t they be? Miniskirts were always welcome, and Jenn’s and Inge’s were particularly abbreviated.
“We were just having a girls’ night out,” explained Jenn, “when I remembered the viewing party, so here we are.”
Princess Inge looked stunning in a tan and white, sleeveless top and blue denim skirt. Whatever Herman believed to be true about denim skirts was proven wrong, as she was able to sit down, cross her legs very nonchalantly, and still leave Herman in the dark over the color of her panties. She may or may not have been aware that a pervert was lurking and dialed-in to her crotch, but as he later rued, “Princess don’t give nothing away,” and by nothing, everyone knew what he was referring to. He had chosen to sit directly opposite Inge when he had other options, making clear his intentions. Another chick he’s about to piss off, thought Jane. “Shouldn’t you be working on Connie,” she reminded him? “Why don’t you see whether she needs a drink or something?” Jane shook her head in dismay, as she always did when he wasn’t smart enough to think of the obvious. “You know, if you make yourself useful she might not mind you hanging around her.” Herman hurried off to where a pair of pudgy thighs were encased in a little black dress and…wait, Holy Mother of Jesus, did he see something…yes! Motherfucker! Yes! Little black dress was wearing white panties! He got a look at her cleavage too, and saw the glimmer of a white bra. Better he should focus on Connie, he thought, and forget about Inge. The Princess was out of his league anyway, and besides, he already had a history with Connie. Not necessarily a glorious history, but a history nonetheless.
The trailer ended. “Holy shit,” Pete exclaimed. “You guys did it again. I want in.”
Jane suggest he wait to see the full episode in its entirety before starting up with his demands, “and not only that, I want two chicks. You deliver me two new faces and I’ll write you into an episode; maybe more – it all depends on your talent pipeline.”
“So I’m just a fucking pimp; is that it?”
“Pretty much.”
Dickie had been on his best behavior since finishing obedience school, but Inge’s unexpected arrival seemed to have affected his mindset. Herman was the only male in lockdown, so Dickie’s liberated penis was able to salute the domme with a killer hard-on. Without waiting to be asked, he pounced on the available seat next to her on the couch, and he kept inching closer to her as stealthily as possible until his leg was grazing hers. It was discreet enough for the contact to appear incidental, but sufficient for boner maintenance, and his pecker stayed rigid, continuing to stick up from between his legs. In the trailer, in the part when he was getting spanked, he could have sworn that Inge pressed her leg more firmly into his, but he frequently misread her intentions, so he remained on his best behavior. What would Princess do, he wondered, should he start to whack?
Inge was very impressed with Jane. She not only ran a successful pornography business, she was sexy enough to appear in the videos herself, as she did in the company’s early days. Her porn was creative, visionary, and inspirational; “as good as anything that’s out there.” But Jane was more than just a pornographer. She also managed to hook a billionaire who, by all accounts, was as kinky as she was. She had a lovely house, and while Los Angeles had lots of lovely houses, how many were stocked with naked men? Jane was everything to which Inge aspired. I wouldn’t mind doing her, she thought to herself.
Early in the showing of the pilot episode, right around the time that Clem’s little dick made its first appearance, the possessor of that tiny rod crouched down on the floor, and very gently spread Inge’s legs apart. Lime-green panties were covering her crotch. An interesting color choice, he thought, but more important than the panties, he saw a pussy begging for attention. Deciding to act, Clem burrowed his head in as deep as he could. Inge had been tolerant of his shenanigans up to now, but she quickly pressed her legs together, clamping down on his neck, trapping him, and there he remained. She would have kept at it, but it was becoming a full-time job to prevent him from squirming free, which she tired of quickly, so she released her grip and stood up. “Enough, Dickie,” she said. Wow, he thought, she called him Dickie, which was an upgrade from what she had been calling him. One more victory…
Herman was somewhere between heaven and hell; one extreme being the chastity device that denied him pleasure, the other being that when Inge stood up so too did the front of her skirt, and for a brief moment, until she smoothed it down, he was able to see the lime-colored triangle between her legs. Denim does it every time, he chuckled, but the clamp prevented him from maximizing his pleasure. He’d have to cling to the memory and save it for when he got home. As far as he was concerned, this was the highlight of the evening. Could he somehow work it into the blog? But Herman wasn’t the only one gazing at Inge. Jane had a hard time taking her eyes off of her too, and don’t think that The Princess didn’t notice.
The video was too long for Inge to resist Dickie forever, and by the time it ended his hand was resting on her leg, just above the knee. The only reason he wasn’t whacking was because he held out hope that she might do it for him.
Jane looked around the room. Pete was deep in conversation Olivia, most likely lobbying for a permanent role on the serial. Arlene and Jim sat motionless, though her hand movement suggested that the houseboy’s massive pecker was now in boy-toy mode. Koh and Jovi both had boners, but whereas Koh was still pining way for his absentee mistress, Jovi was making goo-goo eyes at Jenn, one of the few woman in Jane’s circle he hadn’t yet banged. Inge acted as if she was unaware that a tiny-dicked man had his hand resting on her thigh. Herman wondered why Clem got a pass, while he was still regarded as poison. Had it been his hand on Inge’s thigh she probably would have cut it off.
Jane and Inge made eye contact, and each seemed to give the other a ‘come hither’ look. There had been no flirting, no build-up, but they seemed to recognize immediately their mutual desire. Jane knew what she wanted, and she walked towards The Princess, passing Herman as she did, who was conversing with Connie. She heard him asking, “what color panties would you wear with that?” There was a time when that might have stopped Jane dead in her tracks, but she had bigger fish to fry.
“Well, what did you think,” she asked?
“I’m soaking wet,” Inge confessed. “Dickie seems to like it too,” she added, removing his hand from her leg. “He had a stiffie throughout…he’s very persistent. By the way, you have a gorgeous house.”
“Wanna see the rest of it?” They both knew that the grand tour would culminate in Jane’s bedroom. By the time the two ladies reached the stairs they realized that someone had been left behind. They were both in a generous mood, knowing was about to unfold, so why not an act of kindness?
“What do you say; should we give Dickie a memory he’ll never forget?” Inge motioned to Clem with her finger, and he rushed to join them, and the three of them ascended the stairs together. A perfect opportunity for an upskirt, but it was Herman who now had bigger fish to fry, so he kept his focus on Connie. They had been discussing clothes, and she was showing him a skirt she had just ordered online. It was similar to the style of the pink and turquoise ones that had already launched a thousand ejaculations, except this one was yellow, and this is where Herman had interjected his panty question that had caught Jane’s attention.
Herman cut right to the chase. “We both know I’m a pervert,” he admitted, “so I’m not afraid to say this, but you know that I know you’re wearing white panties right now.” Once Connie might have blushed, but that ship had sailed long ago. “Bad choice,” he said to her, “it’s too much of a contrast with the black dress. Better you save white panties for the yellow mini when it arrives.”
“What should I wear with black?” Did she know she was playing right into his hands?
“Something colorful; yellow would be good, or the magenta ones you wore to the video shoot. If it’s okay with you, I’d be happy to go through your closet and check out your wardrobe. Then I can match them with your bras and panties; I’ll catalogue everything, and I’ll even make a spreadsheet for you.” He saw the skepticism in her eyes. “Look, no worries; I’ll even wear the clamp.” Herman figured that Jane probably told Connie he had jerked-off on her underwear, “but I’ve learned my lesson.”
“What’s in it for you,” she asked?
“Glad you asked. We both know I’m a sick fuck. All I ask is that you let me masturbate in front of you after I’m done.”
“Herman, wouldn’t it be easier if you just got a girlfriend?”
“It would, except the women I’m interested in aren’t interested in me, and to answer your next question, no, I can’t lower my standards. It’s a goddess or nothing, because once you’ve seen the mountaintop, there’s no going back.” He sighed. “I guess I was born to be a houseboy.” Connie started to speak, but he interrupted. “There’s so much I can do,” he said. “Your hair, for example. I know you dyed it for the last video, but your natural color is so beautiful you should go back. I do hair, makeup, and I give great massages. I even trim hair.” Connie instinctively swept her hair back from her face. “Not there,” he said, looking downward. “I know it’s not for everybody…”
“I have a business meeting tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll be gone for several hours.”
“Several hours is all I need. What are you going to wear to the meeting – wait, don’t tell me, I’ll find out tomorrow. I’ll see what you’re wearing and recommend the best color underwear; then we’ll see how apart we are.”
Never trust a pervert, she thought, but he seemed so sincere. Perhaps he deserved another chance. “Be at my place by nine. Don’t be late.” She gave him a stern look. “If this is a con, you’ll be in big trouble, you got it?”
Herman smiled.
Connie wasn’t an idiot, and she knew that his motives weren’t sincere, but the idea of a pervert rummaging through her underwear wasn’t as repulsive as it sounded. In fact, she found it oddly titillating, and surely there were worse things than being asked to serve as stimuli for his obsession. Letting Herman masturbate in her presence might kill two birds with one stone, because it made her think of her vibrator, and what she would do after he left.
****
“Dickie, show Jane how you undress a woman,” Inge said, so he unzipped it from behind, lowered the shoulders down to her elbows, and then, grabbing it from the waist, gently eased the garment down to where she could step out of it. Neatly folding it over the back of the chair, he eagerly awaited the delights waiting there to be savored. Both ladies were now down to their undies. Clem had been taught the finer points of clasping and unhooking a bra, though he had to learn it the hard way, because it had taken several pulls on the chain before he accepted that bra removal did not include breast fondling and nipple tweaking. However that seemed light years away, and he was eager to show them how far he had progressed; but while Inge saw Clem’s boner, along with his smile, she also remembered his hand being on her thigh without permission, not to mention his uninvited foray between her legs, so underwear removal was not added to his agenda. “Come here, loser,” and with that, Clem was put back into penis-prison. “Sit there and watch,” said The Princess.
Jane had been shipped a case of seventy-two Tsubaki vibrators, the self-advertised, flower-petal pleasuring device that provided premium fulfillment. “My husband owns a hundred companies,” she said, “but this is the best one. “I got a shitload of these,” and she tossed one to Inge. Dickie had never before seen two ladies go at it, but he watched them embrace, he saw their deep, passionate kissing, and he saw them remove their underwear and roll around naked. He saw tit sucking, he saw clit-rubbing, vagina tasting, and vibrators galore, he saw moaning and writhing in pleasure, but he also saw that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it…fucking clamp.
Were they real lesbians? Homo sex wasn’t gay if performed in front of women, so maybe the same rule applied to female sex, since they were letting him watch. He wanted to get up from the chair he was sitting in and move closer to the action. They might not be letting him participate, but would they deny him a more intimate vantage-point? But since Inge had reverted back to calling him a loser, he was fearful what she might do if he showed too much aggression.
The entwined lovers lay back on the bed and rested in harmonious bliss. Inge’s persona and sexual peccadillos, along with her intimidation factor, usually made it difficult for men to perform their best, especially considering what the price of failure could entail. “I never had a man satisfy me,” she told Jane. “I mean never, but this,” she exclaimed, referring to the vibrator, “this is better than a man.” But there was still some unfinished business, and they locked lips as well as whatever other body parts they could latch on to, and didn’t come up for air for quite a while. Clem bided his time, waiting and waiting, and waiting some more, to learn his fate.
When they finally did come up for air, Inge wondered what effect the vibrator might have on a tiny penis, and he offered no resistance when they decided to tie his hands to the bedposts. They rubbed his legs and his chest and had their hands perilously close to his groin. Clem would have squealed with fright, had they not also gagged him, using both their panties for said purpose. “He might die if we don’t release him,” said Jane. “I think he’s in real pain.”
Clem’s pecker snapped to attention as soon as they got the clamp off. It was sopping wet. Had they not known better they would have sworn that he had already planted hi seed. Each lady attacked the penis from opposite sides. Surely two vibrators were better than one, and confirmation of this was the way that the man known as Little Dickie yelped muffled sounds of pleasure, squirmed as best he could, and tried to say Banzai!
They removed their panties from his mouth, allowing him to breathe more normally, after which they scooped the sperm with their nails and force-fed it to him. They then were left with a quandary, what to do with their captive, who was still tied to the bedposts. But whatever his fate might be, Little Dickie felt like a big man.