Chapter
6
Regina and I giggled.
Roger turned a deep shade of red.
"Well, what are
you waiting for? Take your clothes off and give them to me. You
won't need them this weekend." Regina commanded.
"You can keep your
shoes." I added.
Soon Roger was standing
there in front of us in just his tennis shoes. The shoes seemed
to exaggerate his nakedness. This was the first "full"
view that either Regina or I got of Roger in the buff. Being in
such close quarters in the dorm room, we never really got to see
more than just body parts.
"Stand there,"
I ordered, pointing to the middle of the room. "Turn around,"
I said, doing a circling motion with my up-pointed finger.
Roger held his arms out
and did a slow turn as Regina and I made comments on his body.
"Oooh, look at those
cute buns," Regina remarked.
"Not as pink as
the last time we saw them, eh? But I guess we can take care of that
later."
I decided to get down
to business. "I'll turn off the drain valve. Roger, your job
is to get the water. There's a holding tank on the roof. The ladder
is on the side of the house, and I will show you where to fill it.
It will take about 20 buckets to fill it."
Regina and I sat on the
porch sipping our iced teas and watched as Roger trudged back and
forth with the pails. I had an uncle who was in the army, and he
used to refer to his group as "every swinging dick." It
suddenly hit me what he meant. I suddenly had a vision of a whole
group of army men marching along in formation, wearing nothing but
boots and helmets and carrying rifles. Of course they'd swing their
arms as they marched, but that wouldn't be the only thing that was
swinging. Every time I looked at Roger as his hips swayed back and
forth to counter the weight of the buckets as he walked, this image
came to my mind.
Regina and I might be
slave masters, but we were benevolent slave masters. We made sure
Roger took breaks and even gave him some iced tea. We were going
to work him hard, but we were not going to abuse him.
Once that task was finished,
I decided to rest him. "Slave," I yelled over to him,
"go inside and get the bolster off the couch and bring it out
here." I had him put it down on the porch. "Get on your
back," I commanded. He lay down. "Are you comfortable?"
He nodded, "yes." "Arms over head" I commanded.
Regina and I pulled our
chairs over so we sat on either side of him and rested our feet
on his body. I delighted in rubbing my toes up and down his ribs,
tickling his feet. He curled up and tried to cover himself with
his hands.
"This won't do at
all," Regina remarked. "Do you have any rope?" Roger
looked at me, eyes screaming, "NO!"
I ignored his plea. "Of
course we do. I'm sure we have some in the tool shed." I would
have sent Roger to get it, but only I knew the combination to the
lock. I was back in a minute.
Now that it came down
to it Regina and I didn't know what to do. Neither of us had ever
tied up a boy before. We looked at each other and giggled nervously.
I was glad that Regina was there with me. I don't think I would
have had the courage to do this by myself. I could sense that Regina
felt the same way. Alone, we were a couple of girls, afraid. Together
we were a couple of women, confident.
Our first attempt at
bondage was neither elegant nor effective. With a lot of assistance
from our somewhat willing victim, we essentially lashed his arms
to the bolster. He could actually do a sit up in this position,
though it was very clumsy for him to do so. If he wanted to, he
could have wiggled his arms out. Nonetheless, it was a victory for
us girls.
The whole affair must
have taken about a half hour, but the delay didn't dampen our playful
spirits although it seemed to dampen something else for me.
We sat, somewhat tired
from our efforts, and sighed. "Now where were we?" I asked.
"I think you were
up to his armpits," Regina suggested. "I'll start at his
ankles."
We rubbed our feet up
and down, tickling him, and teasing him. His penis stood straight
up from his body. There was hardly a time since this trip began
that he wasn't erected.
Eventually we concentrated
our efforts on his genitals. I gently batted his balls with my toes.
There were a couple of times I might have been too aggressive as
he'd tighten up, wince and groan. As much fun as it was to have
control over Roger this way, I didn't want to hurt him.
I read about girls enjoying
inflicting pain on a boy, but that wasn't the part of this exercise
that excited me. Many of the readings indicated that there's a fine
line between pain and pleasure for some boys, and I experimented
with my toe flicks and toe kicks to find that line and stay on the
side I wanted.
Regina took a more direct
approach. She was running her toes up and down the shaft of his
organ. Occasionally, she'd grab the shaft between two toes with
one foot, and try to grab the head with her other foot between her
big toe and the one next to it, only to have it slip out.
I was suddenly reminded
of a game we used to play when I was a little girl in this very
lake. We'd divide up into two teams (usually boys against the girls)
One of the adults would cover a watermelon with cooking grease and
throw it in the water. The team that got the watermelon ashore on
"their" side of the small beach, won. The girls always
won. Not only were we slightly older, and therefore bigger and stronger
at that age, we also knew how to cooperate. We'd pass the watermelon
to another girl whenever all the boys converged on the one of us
who was carrying it.
We also knew how to handle
it better. Being big, hard, round and slippery, you couldn't squeeze
it too hard, or it would squirt out. That's exactly the problem
Regina was having with Roger's penis!
She quickly figured it
out and changed tactics. She moved the foot holding the shaft up
so she was grasping his penis just below his head. She used the
big toe on her other foot to trace a circle around and around and
around the head of his organ.
Roger started to pant
and buck. I looked at his face. I had seen that look before. "Go
girl!" I encouraged. Regina gave his penis a few more quick
flicks with her toe. Up sprouted Roger's first blast of ejaculate.
Regina had the presence of mind to make a quick loop with her toe
again.
"I can feel it!"
she exclaimed. Roger gushed again. "I can feel him pump and
squirt!" He established a rhythm to his pumping and Regina
fell into it immediately. She managed to make one circle of his
organ between every one of his squirts.
I was impressed by how
high Roger was able to arc his sperm shots. I know it really didn't
take all that long, but it seemed like it was all in slow motion
to me. I watched as the first shot rose explosively out of the head
of his organ. I was reminded of a National Geographic film in which
I saw on volcanic eruptions. Hot magma being heaved skyward with
great force, slowing as gravity pulled it, reversing direction and
eventually splashing onto earth.
The physics of this eruption
were exactly the same, and so were some of the results. I was surprised
at how hot his come was as it splashed about my feet. It was much
hotter than body temperature should be.
It was my first true
contact with sperm, and although I always thought of it as a dirty,
disgusting liquid to be avoided at any cost, I was surprised how
nice it felt on my feet. There was something very primitive at work
here. Sperm was what made a man a man. It was how he passed what
he was onto future generations.
A boy should guard his
sperm as being sacred. Yet, Roger tossed it carelessly in my dorm
room simply because I asked him to do it. Now it was being taken
from him against his will. There was something more significant
to this than merely masturbating a boy. There was more to it than
just having power over him. This was taking his very essence from
him, and have him deposit it at the most humblest part of my body.
Then again, maybe I was
reading too many of the books on Frankie's list. It was fun just
simply making him come.
I felt very dirty and
naughty wiggling my toes in his ejaculate. Maybe I am too much a
nice girl in spite of my dominatrix tendencies. I've always been
a good girl, doing the proper thing. It felt good to break a rule
once and a while even if I didn't know quite which rule was being
broken.
I broke out of my private
thoughts long enough to look at Regina. She was wasted! "What
have you been drinking girl?" I asked.
"Oh, don't mind
me," she gasped. "I get this way when something like this
happens."
All the while, our prey,
Roger, lay there silently in post-coital bliss. I would soon change
that!
I moved my foot up to
his face and started rubbing and smearing his own come over it.
"Lick this stuff off my feet!" I commanded. "Look
at the mess you made. Clean it up."
Roger licked eagerly
at my feet, and I felt like a queen. Feet might be a fetish zone
for boys, but it was getting to me too. I never really thought much
of my feet - for me, that is. I knew what affect they had on some
boys, but it simply wasn't a part of my body that I ever thought
would feel good being touched.
It wasn't so much a sexual
thing - heck nothing with Roger was really sexual in spite of the
overt use of his reproductive organs. The relationship was one of
power, and one in which sexual servitude was merely one manifestation
of the power exchange.
I liked the feeling for
its pure and simple sensuality.
"Hey, stop hogging
the good parts," Regina chided.
I laughed and let her
get her feet into his face as well. We eventually decided to alternate
between his mouth and his midsection. As soon as he cleaned the
come off one of our feet, we'd have another fresh load to feed him.
His come had dried to
a caked, tacky mess by the time we tired of this game.
"How are we going
to clean all this up," Regina admitted expressing the thought
all of us had.
"Last one in the
lake is a rotten egg!" I proclaimed.
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