Boy Toy Ch. 02

"Stephen, so good to see you again," Ms. Scholl said coolly. "You're looking just as beautiful and athletic as I remembered. Although, you're wearing clothes. Didn't Vanessa tell you that you'd be required to be perform for me in the nude?"

Vanessa had told me, but I'd only just gotten out of the car mere seconds before. It seemed to me that I would need to strip until Ms. Scholl was ready to begin filming.

I blushed deeply and shuffled uneasily from foot to foot. "Well, I just got here," I said defensively. "I needed to wear clothes for the trip over here."

"Well, you've arrived at my home," Ms. Scholl announced. "The nearest road is almost a mile away and my nearest neighbor is about two miles away. We have plenty of privacy here, so you may as well get undressed now."

We were standing in the weeds and grass outside of the main house. It seemed inappropriate to strip naked while I was still outside, but Ms. Scholl fixed her gaze upon me with her steely eyes and although I was squirming inside, I couldn't argue with her while she was giving me that firm, unyielding look.

I felt my face getting hot as I kicked off my shoes, undid my jeans, and then shoved them down my legs. I peeled off my t-shirt and then slipped my thumbs into the waistband of my cotton briefs and pulled them down t my ankles before stepping out of them. Of course, my cock was conspicuously hard and erect, a fact that Ms. Scholl could not fail to notice,

There were butterflies in my stomach as her eyes roved all over my naked body. I expected her to say or do something unkind, especially when Vanessa picked up my clothes and took them back to the car, leaving Ms. Scholl and I alone together.

Standing naked and barefoot in the grass and the weeds, while Ms. Scholl was respectably clothed made me feel exposed and vulnerable. And it didn't help that she openly stared at my naked body studying every line of my male anatomy.

I was being treated as a sex object and I felt mortified and defeated. I let out a sigh of resignation and Ms. Scholl laughed at me.

"Oh, don't look so miserable, Stephen!" she said cheerfully, "I think you'll enjoy working for me!"

"Enjoy being tied up and raped?" I asked, wrapping my arms reflexively around my naked torso in a defensive gesture. My bare buttocks and my conspicuously erect cock were still on display, but it somehow made me feel less exposed to cover up my nipples.

Ms. School favored me with a wicked smile and responded, "You have a strong masochistic streak in you, Stephen. I can see it, even if you can't. The more you embrace your latent submissiveness, the more you'll enjoy the things I do to you."

I shifted my weight uneasily from one foot to another as she looked intently at me, as if she could see into my soul and shine a bright light on all my darkest secrets. Way deep down, I knew that I derived a dark, deviant sort of sexual arousal from being abused and sexually objectified, but I was loathe to admit that out loud.

Then, there was the sound of footsteps approaching. At first, I thought it was Mrs. Bennet returning. However, they were coming from the wrong direction.

A woman with two large backpacks slung over one shoulder came walking through the weeds at a brisk pace. She was young, obviously athletic, had a boyish haircut and she wore a tight tank top and shorts that allowed her to show the muscles in her arms and legs.

She headed straight for Irma Scholl and called out, asking her where she wanted to set up.

"In the barn, Taylor" Ms. Scholl responded. "I'll be using the trapeze bar, so set up the lighting equipment with that area as your focus."

" Trapeze bar?" I asked. "You mean like in the circus?"

The younger woman chuckled and said, "Yes, but we don't use it for the same thing as those circus acrobats."

Taylor smiled brightly and stalked off for the barn. When Vanessa returned from the car, she and Irma escorted me to the barn as well.

The barn didn't look any more glamorous than the name "barn" implied. There was hay strewn across the floor, exposed wooden beams, exposed rafters, the smell of sawdust mingled with the smell of sweat and combined for a palpable rustic atmosphere.

Taylor had gotten there first and had been energetically setting up lighting and photography equipment. She continued her labors while Ms. Scholl directed me to the east side of the barn and told me to stand in a specific spot.

The trapeze bar in the barn looked remarkably like the kind they use in the circus, only this one had leather straps that could be fastened around a person's wrists, making them helpless. Ms. Scholl lowered the bar down to shoulder level and told me to hold out my hands.

I allowed them to tighten the straps around my wrists and I had to fight back feelings of panic as the bar was raised and my feet left the ground. My naked body was stretched taut, and I realized suddenly just how helpless and vulnerable these two women had made me. A deep sense of foreboding filled my soul and I glanced over my naked shoulder at Ms. Scholl.

"You look very cute and helpless," she confided to me. "But I feel like there's something missing. Vanessa, before we start whipping him, can you think of anything we could do to make his seem more authentic? More like a naked, helpless captive?"

Vanessa gave it some thought, she walked around my suspended nudity in a slow circle and finally replied, "I think a prisoner bound like that might struggle and start to sweat."

"Yes, I suppose he would," Ms. Scholl replied studying me carefully.

"I think we could get that effect by oiling him," Taylor said. She walked over to one of her backpacks and took out a bottle of oil.

She approached me. I was strung up naked and helpless. And could do nothing to stop her. Then, Vanessa offered to assist in rubbing the oil all over my body.

I bit my lower lip and felt my face heat up with embarrassment as Taylor poured a small pool of oil into Mrs. Bennet's hand and then some into her own. Then, Taylor proceeded to rub her hands all over the front of my body while Mrs. Bennet rubbed her hands all over me from behind. They started at the top and worked their way slowly down my smooth naked body.

The two women oiled me up from my neck to my knees, although there were certain parts of my anatomy that they focused on more than others.

Taylor applied multiple coats of oil to my thighs and then she spent a copious amount of time oiling up my scrotum. And then I whimpered and squirmed as the teenager used an abundance of oil to saturate the shaft and head of my already erect cock. I twisted and gyrated my hips shamelessly as his slippery grip on my cock made me throb with desperate need. My cock pulsed fervently in her hands, and I very nearly erupted into orgasm while she rubbed oil into my skin, however, she took her hands away just as I was on the edge of climax.

Mrs. Bennett spent an inordinate amount of time working oil into my buttocks, leisurely fondling them as she made them glisten and even working a substantial amount of oil into the tight furrow between my buttocks.

Of course, I gasped when she rubbed her invasive fingertips across the soft, sensitive flesh of my anus. Then I reflexively jerked my hips forward when I felt a finger pushed into me.

I gasped and the next thing I knew, there were two greasy fingers being pushed into my rectum. Being impaled on those fingers filled me with even greater feelings of helplessness and I pulled against the restraints that bound my wrists.

It took Mrs. Bennet mere moments to locate my prostate and then she proceeded to stroke it with her talented fingertips, I whimpered, moaned and felt my anal muscles tighten around her fingers.

"Kinda squirmy, isn't he?" Taylor asked with a happy smile on her face. "I like it. He looks adorable and in helpless distress."

She took a step back and watched with rapt fascination as I twisted and swayed my hips in an indecently suggestive fashion. Mrs. Bennett wriggled her fingers around inside of me, slapped my ass with her other hands and mischievously replied, "Just wait and see what sort of squirming my boy does when he's whipped. The way he twists and contorts as he tries in vain to avoid the sting of leather on his smooth, soft skin. There's nothing else quite like it."

"A whipping really enhances their beauty," Ms. Scholl opined. "A pretty boy is never so beautiful as when he's writhing in agony under the sting of the lash."

Ms. Scholl handed Mrs. Bennet a long, leather strap. Mrs. Bennet folded it half and swung it across my ass. The stinging leather strap slashed across my ass with such blinding speed that it seemed to smack across both of my buttocks at the same time. I stifled a scream, and then the second blow sliced across my thighs.

While Ms. Scholl recorded my agony and humiliation from a variety of different camera angles, Taylor held up a round photography reflector. From what the women around me said, I surmised that the reflector altered the way that light hit my body and would highlight my oiled curves and taut, stretched muscles of my naked body.

As Vanessa predicted, I squirmed and twisted mindlessly while I was whipped. My bottom felt as if it was being scalded with liquid fire, so twisting and squirming mindlessly was an appropriate response. So was screaming.

I temporarily lost control of my body as searing, shocking pain exploded across my oiled buttocks. My instinct to escape it was immediate and overwhelming. I twisted her hips to escape the stinging blows. Of course, all of my twisting and squirming was in vain.

I screamed mindlessly as a dozen swift strokes scorched across each cheek, six on one side, then six on the other. My screams became louder and more desperate as the pain of each succeeding blow increased. I screamed until I was dizzy, and my throat was sore. The whistling leather painted my thighs scarlet before moving higher to deepen the color of my poor buttocks.

Tears were welling up in my eyes when the whipping finally stopped. Behind me, Mrs. Bennet set the leather strap aside and said, "I think we should take a short break while I work something into his ass."

"Wait! What?" I protested and twisted my head around while helplessly struggling against my leather restraints. "You never said anything about stuffing anything into my ass!"

My anus was still sore from the last time Vanessa's husband fucked me. I didn't think it was fair for my poor asshole to be violated again so soon, but Vanessa didn't share my opinion. She smacked me hard across one of my tender ass cheeks and said, "Your ass belongs to me. I'll stuff things into it whenever I feel like it."

A thick, silicone dildo that was at least ten inches in length was held up where I could see it. The impressive girth of the thing frightened me. I dreaded the thought of something that wide being forced into my tight anal passage and then Vanessa deepened my feelings of shame and helplessness when she said, "Suck it."

I opened my mouth wide. Mrs. Bennet took a handful of her hair and forced the shaft deep into my mouth until I gagged on it.

"Swallow it! Come on! Swallow," Mrs. Bennet demanded, and I attempted to relax my throat and accept the monstrous shaft all the way inside of me. I had to breathe through my nose as I felt the thick rod push insistently into the back of my throat. She held the massive thing like that, filling me to the hilt while I struggled desperately to breathe.

I gasped for air when the fake cock was finally withdrawn from my poor mouth and then I tensed up reflexively as Mrs. Bennet pried my buttocks apart and worked a fresh dollop of grease into my sore opening.

"That's awfully big," Taylor said as she saw Mrs. Bennet attempting to force the dildo into my ass. "Do you really think you can fit that inside of him?"

"Just watch me," Mrs. Bennet said defiantly and then she pressed the head of the thick phallus against my delicate, pink anus.

Even with copious amounts of lubricant, my virginal hole didn't take in that monster cock easily. Accepting the terrible girth of the thing seemed impossible at first.

After much trial and error, I was impaled on the monster dildo. It advanced, gliding slowly in until I could feel its entire bulk inside of me. I could feel my muscles tighten reflexively, attempting to deny the anal intruder.

"Relax, Stephen," Mrs. Bennet instructed me. "Don't make it rape."

It felt as if I had already been raped, nevertheless I attempted to follow her instructions. Then she began to thrust the thing in and out of me and I slipped into a shameless, mindless state, sobbing and simpering, while the thick lance plowed me ruthlessly.

I was naked, hanging by my wrists, my ass reddened from a merciless whipping and panting as I was anally raped.

I wanted to maintain the façade that I hated this, that I only allowed them to do these horrible things to me because I was being paid. However, my male anatomy made it impossible for me to conceal my arousal. My cock throbbed painfully, the shaft was rock hard and straining up towards the sky. The purple head of my cock was swollen and a thick dollop of precum had formed at the tip, visible to all the women who were tormenting me.

At one point, Vanessa pushed the shaft of the cock painfully deep, took her hands away and said, "I'm going to whip you again, Stephen. And I want that dildo to remain inside of you as you're being whipped. If it falls out, I shall be extremely disappointed."

I moaned at her words. Keeping that thing inside of me while I writhed in agony under the whip seemed like an impossible task. However, my submissive nature meant that I would desperately do anything in my power to please Mrs. Bennet. I had no idea if I had the ability to keep that monster thing inside of my while squirming and twisting under the whip, but I was going to try.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Ow! Aaahhh! Jesus!" I screamed as the stinging leather strap once again decorated my naked body with painful red stripes. I tried with all my will not to wriggle or squirm when the strap hit me, but the pain was so intense, I had little choice in that matter.

She sliced her cruel leather strap across my thighs, back and forth, back, and forth, and then across the tender underside of my knees. Then suddenly it was back up again on my bottom.

Vanessa and Cole had both spanked me many times, but the pain from this whipping was something different. The pain was far more intense and vicious. I suffered deliciously as I squirmed and danced in midair.

I couldn't stop the tears, hadn't been able to stop them from the start, so I stopped trying and sobbed uncontrollably. Ms. Scholl captured my tears with her camera and her camcorder.

Again, and again the strap crisscrossed my backside, and the pain seemed to flood my entire body, to move through my legs and even my arms, and to gather in my cock. My cock swelled and became so throbbingly erect that it ached.

Once again the whipping stopped, and I hung there, naked, helpless, and sobbing. Then, Mrs. Bennet approached me, squeezed one of my poor, abused buttocks and told me how she was proud of me.

"You're such a good, obedient slave boy," she cooed softly. "It wasn't easy for you to keep that inside your ass while you were whipped, but you did it anyway. You really do want to please me, don't you?"

She then proceeded to toy with my cock and balls. She cradled my balls and stroked her fingertips across the tip of my cock. I reflexively moaned when she slipped her fingers along the shaft of my penis and gripped my foreskin. She pulled it back sharply, completely exposing the swollen head of my cock.

I was gasping and groaning as I hung there helplessly, suspended by my wrists. I felt utterly helpless as I shivered and shook. My penis throbbed as she grabbed it and squeezed the shaft. My cock had been coated in oil and it was still slick, and glistening and my cock twitched in response to her slippery grip.

"This is what you deserve," she said as she gripped my cock as hard as hard she could and twisted it around, manipulating my shaft and foreskin in ways that made me groan uncontrollably. And while she used one hand to work my cock, with the other she grabbed the base of the dildo and pushed it deeper into my ass.

"Aaaaahhhhh," I gasped wordlessly as she stimulated my prostate and the swollen head of my cock. I shuddered as she found the most sensitive areas on my male anatomy and toyed with them. She delighted in the look of agony on my face as I suffered close to orgasm and told Irma to capture my suffering.

"It's fun to watch you wriggle and squirm," she said as gripped my cock tightly. "Is it the way that I twist your cock around or is it the massive cock in your ass?"

As she asked the question, she gripped the base of the massive phallus and pushed on it insistently, impaling me deep while she simultaneously increased the pressure of her fingers around my hardened penis.

I gasped incoherently, as Mrs. Bennet raped my ass and squeezed my poor aching cock. The sensations were too intense for me to form words. I was just a collection of overstimulated nerve endings, awaiting the conclusion of their ordeal. I was feverish and delirious and knew this couldn't last much longer without driving me insane.

Another agonized wave of desire surged through me as she stroked the underside of my glans. Then she wickedly worked the cock inside of me, pushing it so that it rubbed shamelessly across my prostate gland, tearing a long, continuous moan from my young, boyish lips as she raped me.

I was swept away on a tidal wave of intense humiliation and sexual arousal. Both feelings were so potent I couldn't handle either of them. They controlled me. They owned me. I was buffeted and battered and owned by them both.

Then Mrs. Bennet pressed the head of the massive phallus against my prostate gland, prodding it vigorously. My naked body stiffened as my spine arched backwards and I let out a shameless cry of sexual release and boyish anguish.

All three women watched intently as my cock erupted. A series of thick streams of semen, jetted from the tip, shooting up high into the air before splattering onto the floor of the rustic barn room floor where I was bound.

I thought that was the end of it, however, Mrs. Bennet continued to rape my ass and squeeze my cock. I felt utterly mortified as I panted and my hopelessly erect cock continued to erupt with thick, white globs of sticky semen for the women to gawk at.

She prodded hard against the pulsing g-spot deep within my ass, while her hand continued to diligently milk my penis. With an intense shudder, one last stream of milky white liquid shot out of my cock and then I went limp in my bonds as if all of the life had been drained out of me.

I closed my eyes and surrendered myself to these women. I embraced my nakedness and complete helplessness. I was just Ms. Scholl's and Mrs. Bennet's naked prisoner. I was at their mercy. They would do things to my body, rape my ass, and force me to climax again and again, and I could do nothing to stop them. I luxuriated in my delicious feelings of helplessness and victimhood. I suddenly wished that I was gagged so that I wouldn't even have the option to beg for mercy. Perhaps I could put the thought into Ms. Scholl's head without making it sound like it was my idea. I was a writer. I used words to create new realities all the time. Using words to manipulate Ms. Scholl into gagging me shouldn't be too difficult.