Captain's Journal: February 19, 2004

Things are exciting! I have been getting friendly with this girl at
work, Pamela, and taking her out to lunch, and sometimes we've taken
the afternoon off work to go to the movies.

Today Pam and I just went to the park and held hands and talked about
our lives, and at the end of the lunch hour, she kissed me lightly on
the lips. But just as she was going to kiss me again, I heard the
roar of a motorcycle, and I pulled away, looking around wildly, but
it wasn't my nephew Ron, thank goodness. She looked really weirded
out by that behavior, but what can I tell her?

Pamela and I love movies, though, and this is all so much fun,
sneaking out in the afternoon when I'm supposed to be at
work...my "free time" is always called for! When Master Ron, my
strict 19 year old nephew would call work to check up on me, I'd have
my secretary tell him that I was on a business call..if he'd found
out that his Uncle Creamy was taking a girl to the movies when I was
supposed to be working, he'd pull up to my office on his Harley, walk
into my office, and make me drop my pants in front of my secretary
and my two assistants, and then he'd whip my behind with the Spencer
paddle he keeps in my desk!

Master Ron has it there, because every now and then I'll screw up
one of my chores, and he has to drop by on my lunch hour, and take me
in hand, usually it's fifty with the Spencer paddle, an evil wooden
thing with holes, and twenty-five with Ron's razor strop!

Then I have to get on my knees and suck Master Ron's big wee-wee,
usually for about twenty or twenty-five minutes before he shoots his
scum in me sometimes twice, and leaves me on my knees in the office,
with cum dribbling out of my mouth...so I wanted to keep it secret
about Pamela.

She asked me if I was married, because we never went out at night,
but I said that I had to take care of my aged mother, and there was
no time for any socializing at night. I felt so sad when I said this,
because I'd love to make Pamela a nice bouillabaise (I'm an
accomplished cook). Trouble is, Mom and Master Ron would be there,
and I'm not supposed to be neglecting them to go out with some girl.

Heck, Master Ron found a copy of Hustler that I had hidden under the
mattress, and he tied me to a tree outside, naked except for a
garter belt, and he nearly broke his malacca cane on my butt, and
then Mommy attached some clothespins to my poor wee-wee, and she and
Ron knocked them off with wooden spoons. By the time I went to bed, I
was weeping piteously, and Ron took away my allowance for two weeks!
He said I didn't know how to spend it. When I was in bed, Master Ron
came in and cuffed my hands and pulled up my night gown (Mommy makes
me wear one) and shoved his huge dick in my ass...he'd not done that
before, and ooh, it was so awful! Then I had to lick the ca-ca off
his penis before he left me for the night...

Pamela really likes me, and I think she'd like to go out one
night...but I can't see her at night! what am I going to do? Even if
I got her to go to a Holiday Inn with me in the afternoon, Ron would
whip me good after he saw the Visa bill, and once Pam and I
undressed, she'd see my chastity piercing! What could I do, except
maybe eat her out..Mommy's been training me since I was thirteen..and
I'm good at it!
Well, I'm just going to have to sneak around, right?

I've been so nervous lately. I don't know if Mommy and Master Ron
suspect anything with me and Pamela, my secret daytime girlfriend…
it's awful! The last time I went out with a woman, I brought her to
the house during the day, because I thought I wouldn't get in
trouble, since I wasn't going to be out at night. I'm forty-two, for
God's sake, and this was last year! I was just hoping that if Mommy
and Ron met Gabrielle, they'd like her, and maybe Ron would feel
sorry for me and unlock my chastity piercing…and to prepare for
Gabrielle coming over, I tried to please Mommy and Ron by polishing
the silverware, mopping the floor…it was a Saturday, and usually when
I'm not grounded I get to go play golf…and they were very pleased at
all the work I'd done…



I mean, here I am, a great guy. I support both of them, neither is
employed, and give them all my salary! And here I am doing all this
work. I even gave Master Ron a long, slurping blowjob while he
watched a Dolphins game. I was wearing my long johns, and then I got
dressed for Gabrielles visit, and Master Ron looked at me curiously.
Then Gabrielle came over, and I introduced them. She was so
wonderful. Gabrielle didn't understand why I couldn't see her at
night, and didn't have enough spending money (I'm the vice president
of a BANK, for God's sake) to take her out to lunch more than once a
week, but Gabrielle is French, and doesn't have that American woman
greed. She actually offered to pay for lunch a number of times. So I
thought Ron and Mommy might like that. The money would still be
theirs if I dated her! But the conversation went like this:

Creamy: Gabrielle, this is my nephew, Ron and my mother, Edna. We've
been spending time together on my lunch hour, and we went on a picnic
last Saturday."

Gabrielle: It is so nice to meet you both! Creamy is always telling
me what a nice home life you have here…what nice roses you've got.

Mom: Yes, Creamy takes care of them himself, the dear boy. But where—
where were you last weekend when the weeding was to be done?

Me: "I—I just wasn't here…I"

Ron: "You just told us you were on a picnic! You told me you were
going to Home Depot and you didn't get back with the mulch til six
o'clock. Drop your pants!"

Me: "no, no wait, this is my new girlfriend—"

Ron proceeded to unbuckle my pants himself and drag them down, and
then he whipped me with his wide leather belt, before dragging me in
the house by the ear. He made me strip and put on my punishment long
johns, the ones without a crotch, and lipstick and eye shadow, and a
bright yellow wig. I was dragged back out to the yard, and made to do
the pruning and gardening, with Ron standing over me with a long
thorny branch. Meanwhile Mommy and Gabrielle had lunch in the back
yard. Gabrielle patted me on the cheek before she left, and never
spoke to me again. That night, Ron and his friends had a poker party
in the basement, and I had to serve them drinks and snacks while
wearing a tutu and high heels...and then they all took turns raping
my ass as it bent over the pool table "You know you're just a sorry
little faggot, don't you Uncle Creamy?" Ron whispered in my ear as I
cried on the floor, my lipstick smeared, after everyone went back
upstairs. "You'll never, never date a woman as long as I'm in
charge..." I was so upset, I was in tears…I'd lost my beautiful
Gabrielle…"I'm so horny…" I was crying. Ron unlocked my piercing that
night, after he came back and played with my "Vienna Sausage" as he
calls it for an hour and a half, very tenderly…"I understand, baby…"
but just as I was about to cum, he locked me up again. I was so
frustrated!

So last night I got in from work, trembling, as I'm dating a girl
again!

I don't know if Mommy suspected anything last night, but she was very
hard on me. When I got home, Mommy took me by the ear and led me
into the bathroom, waving her big hairbrush made of elephant's tusk.
Oops—I had left my pink long johns on the side of the bathtub. As I
said about my punishment long johns, I wear them, the crotchless ones
when I'm on PUNISHMENT, but the rest of the time, I'm supposed to
wear my regular long johns whenever I'm in the house, as it's quicker
for Mom and Master Ron to administer my punishments, they just have
to drag them down!

. I am also supposed to wear them under my suit at work, and
sometimes Ron will come over to work and make me strip to my pink
dyed long johns and prance around the office in front of him, before
he pulls 'em down and gives me sixty.



"You know you're supposed to be wearing those long johns, Creamy."
Mom had a death look in her eye. "Take down your pants!"



I pulled down my pants and undies, and Mommy sat on the toilet,
pulling me over her knee. Whack! Whack! Whack! I tried not to cry,
but the smacks were so hard...I knew as soon as I started crying,
Mommy would berate me for blubbering, as she calls it. I bit my lip
and the whacks rang heavily on my butt cheeks. WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
At some point, I began struggling to get up, but Mommy had my arm
behind my back and she kept hitting me...



Finally I rolled off her lap. "What are you doing? How dare you break
away from me?"Mommy stood up and was she MAD. But I thought of
Pamela, lovely Pamela who I have been dating on the sly during the
day...and I stood up, trembling, my pants still around my knees. It
was so embarrassing and humiliating. My cock was getting hard, even
with the piercing, it trembled as it filled with blood. Do I like
this? But I remembered Pamela. "Mommy...I'm a grown man, I'm forty-
two years old..." I felt the tears coming into my eyes. I tried to
pull up my pants, and Mommy slapped my hands. "Leave them down, you
big baby! As if I hadn't had your pants down for a whipping two to
four times a week since you were five years old! Like I've not bathed
you for every day of your forty-two years! Tell me what a mature man
you are, you cry-baby!" Mommy slapped me again, and I choked back the
tears.



"Its...its' just that...I work hard during the day [when I wasn't off
with Pamela]to take care of you and Ron...and since I'm mature
enough, I'm forty-two, I think I can dress how I want, and stay up
later...and go out at night!" but then I ruined it by asking "Please?"

Mommy had a nasty smile on her face. By the time Master Ron and his
buddy Ward got home, I was in diapers and a bonnet, handcuffed to the
radiator, and Mom had left a note before she went out to play bridge,
I didn't get to read it, but after Ron did, my diapers got dragged
down, and between the beating and the subsequent corn-holing, I
decided to table my rebellion for now...my only comfort is tomorrow I
can see Pamela, but then not again til Monday. Oh, my dick is so hard
in my chastity piercing, Ron and Ward unlocked it and took turns
stroking and edging my hard dickie-bird (Ward has such soft hands for
a truck driver) Ward kept whispering sweet nothings in my ear, while
he stroked...and I thought I might catch a break, maybe get jerked
off, or they'd at least let me jerk myself off? But, no, that's not
happened in a few weeks. After I got really hard, Master Ron took a
car ariel that he had in his gang days and whipped my cock back down,
and then he threw me on the floor, and Ward stomped on my poor wee-
wee with his Doc Martens, but they felt like combat boots...and then
they made me sleep in the cellar...

a sad captain

it's sick behavior. I am just trapped in this, I think,
because after my divorce a couple of years ago, I came back to stay
with Mom...When I was a kid, she was awfully domineering of me, and
she had these horrible draconian punishments...if I forgot to set the
table, I was put in a ballerina outfit, if I was more than 20 minutes
late coming home from school, (Mommy didn't like the children in the
neighborhood, she said they weren't suitable playmates) Mom would
pull down my pants and whip me on the back porch with her horrible
elephant's tusk hairbrush. She made me live these rules until I
graduated college--I went locally...home within 20 minutes of
whenever my class ended, and then bed at 7:00 p.m. And I got out of
there as soon as I graduated...it's true that I have had fantasies
about being dominated, and when I came back 20 years later to look
after Mom, promising to stay just a little while, Ron found a couple
of my magazines...but they've taken shameless advantage of me...I
just need a place to discuss all this!

Pamela came by for lunch today, and we talked some more. I had to
decline a date again "Why can't you go to the movies with me?" she
asked. "It's Friday night, you don't have work, do you?" But what can
I tell her? I have to scrub the kitchen and bathroom tonight and be
in bad by seven-thirty...and write 1,000 times "I will not forget to
iron Master Ron's jeans" I did 850 sentences this week,but it's got
to be finished by bedtime tonight, or he's promised to make me up as
a whore, with fishnets and pink lip gloss, and make me stroll up and
down our red-light district tomorrow... to earn him "some money" My
salary isn't enough, apparently.
And it's been so long since I had an orgasm. I've not had the
piercing unlocked except for teasing in about three weeks! young men are insatiable...I can't remember the
last time I could do this, but Master Ron can cum five to ten times
in an afternoon, and I quite often am kept quite busy...by the time I
hit the sack, I barely can move my jaw like Woody Allen in "Annie
Hall" My jaw aches, and my cock is rock hard, biting against the
piercing...and if Ron doesn't get all the orgasms he wants..even if
it's just that his organ doesn't feel like it, he unlocks me and MY
organ is whipped with a paint paddle and a wooden spoon...

 

Captain’s Log Feb 21, 2004

Last night was so scary...it seemed like a near miss! I didn't give Pamela my number, but I guess it's in the book, she called, and Master Ron picked up the phone. As he was talking, I was sucking him in a little yellow frilly dress, perched on my knees. Ron needs to wind down after a week of racing his motorcycle, smoking weed, and ass-grabbing at Leatherland, my euphemism for the bar he hangs out in. (I should know it, I've spent enough time on my knees in their bathrooms, damn it!)

 

 "Hello?" Ron said "Yes, this is the Creame residence. Creamy? Are you a friend of Uncle Creamy's...yes, I'm his nephew. He's a little indisposed right now." Ron said, looking down at me, as I ran his huge, uncut prick in and out of my painted lips. I just prayed that Pamela would hang up, and I wouldn't have to answer any serious questions. After what happened with Gabriella, I just don't know if I could handle being exposed again. I licked the underside of Ron's frenum with my tongue, to distract him a bit. "Yeah?" Ron snickered. "I guess you can talk to him...Ron grabbed me by the hair, pulling me up to head level, and handed me the phone. As I took it, Ron reached under my dress and began playing with my bowed cock in its piercing.

 

What some may not understand about a chastity piercing is, stimulation can be done without having to remove the lock, whereas with a chastity belt or tube, the entire thing must be taken off. I spent eight years as a Navy captain, and Ensign Benson, who worked directly under me,introduced me to the chastity belt. Benson was  a well built twenty-three year old with broad shoulders, green eyes, and a shock of jet-black hair. I enjoyed working with him, he called me "sir" when things were going well, but Ensign Benson was always rather impatient with me because I forgot to do the paperwork he needed to get his job done.

 

When this got to be too annoying, Benson would come into my office in his crispy whites, and order me over my desk, and pull my own uniform white pants down. He would then whip me with his fraternity paddle,between 15 and twenty-five strokes, to teach me attention skills. After he'd leave, I would be so aroused by this, that I'd drop to my knees and jerk off, and one day Ensign Benson caught me, he'd come back in for something, and after this, Ensign Benson ordered me a chastity belt, because he said I should'n be getting rewarded for being such a forgetful boy.(a hell of a thing for a child of twenty-one to tell a thirty-year old man!) So I am familiari with both chastity belts and chastity piercings.

 

With the belt there's no stimulation unless it's taken off, and Ensign Benson, for the time we were working together only too it off if I remembered to sign off on all the paperwork he needed for two weeks straight. Then, I'd give him and our gunnery sergeant each a nice blowjob, and then I'd be allowed to cum by rubbing my dick back and forth against the leg of the desk while whistling the "Sailor's Hornpipe." So really, with the belt on, my poor dick felt immobilized.

 

Back to the story. As Ron began gently squeezing my cock and balls, locked in the piercing as they were, I got more and more aroused while talking to Pamela. She asked me how I was, and I replied breathily that I was doing OK, and then Pamela asked if I'd like to do something tomorrow, as it was a lovely day. At this point, Ron suddenly stopped rubbing and squeezing my cock,and took a death grip on my scrotal sac. I moaned and dropped the phone, and after I bent over to pick it up, Pamela asked if I was all right, and I said I had a touch of the flu, and that I'd see her Monday. After I hung up the phone, I was afraid Master Ron would grill me, but he just laughed, slapped my face, and pointed at the floor, at which time I went back down on my knees and began sucking away, after of course refreshing my lipstick

Mommy is still a good looking woman. She had me in her late adolescence, and with her hair swept back in a tight bun and her high breasts choked in a snug cashmere sweater, often people mistake her for my girlfriend when we go out together. Mommy also wears high heels much of the time, which she uses to correct me when I upset her with a little stomp on my toe in public, and a jump on my bare balls, while I’m tied down on the kitchen floor at home. Her suede miniskirt looked great this morning as we went through town doing our Saturday shopping at the Farmer’s Market and other places, before we decided to get some clothes.

This morning we went shopping at Hecht’s, and she saw a number of  good looking button down oxford shirts and khakis for Ron that she thought would be good for him in his upcoming term at the junior college. Then up to the Women’s where we found Mommy some new spike heels and a couple of nice dresses. We got those on my Gold card, and  I expressed an interest in some Ralph Lauren Polo things, but Mommy had an odd smile on her face, and shook her head. “I have another store for you, honey.” But I really liked this one denim shirt, I thought it looked incredibly manly, and I wanted to get it for myself. After all, it’s my money we’re spending! I picked the shirt up and told Mommy that I was going to try it on. “You are NOT trying that hick shirt on.” Mommy tried to take it away from me, but I pulled it back “Look, it’s my size, and I want something casual, I’ll just get it at the register—“   “No, you won’t!” I felt a sharp pain in my ankle, and she had kicked me with those damn high heels.

 

 People were looking at us, and Mommy was beginning to raise her voice. “I’m warning you, Creamy, ”Mommy had a evil gleam in her eye. It wasn’t fair, and I stomped my foot. “I want the shirt! I just got you all the stuff with MY money!”  I clenched my fists, and tried not to cry. What kind of life is this woman putting me through?

 

“That’s it.” Mommy took me by the wrist and led me back to the dressing rooms in the Women’s again, tossing the denim shirt into a bin as we passed. I wasn’t sure what this was about… She smiled and nodded at the astonished   clerk, and dragged me into the first open dressing room door that she saw. “Get in here.” She shut the door behind her, and locked it. “I’ve had enough of your immature tantrums.” Her voice became threateningly loud. Mommy sat down on the dressing room bench. She fumbled in her purse, pulling out her elephant’s tusk hairbrush. I felt a chill coming over me. I remembered as a child, when arguing with her over Eton suits and sailor Donald Duck outfits with the vile hat that made me a target of schoolyard bullies…Mommy would win the argument by taking me into the dressing room, pulling down my pants and whacking me til my screams rang out throughout the store.

 

This can’t be happening, I thought. But as I was ruminating on this thought, Mommy was unbuckling my pants, and down they came, along with my pink long johns. She grabbed my shirt, and pulled me down over her knees, and I was determined not to cry. I just couldn’t fight her off, though I am a well-built 42 year old man, six feet tall, weighing two hundred pounds, and Mommy weighs all of 110 dripping wet. When she grabs me, I meekly submit to whatever comes next. Childhood conditioning, I guess. I tried hard not to cry, but  the elephant’s tusk hairbrush hurt so much…I was howling almost as loudly as I had as a child….I couldn’t believe what she was doing to me! “You WHACK WHACK WHACK will obey WHACK WHACK  WHACK your mother. Do you understand me? I will WHACK WHACK  WHACK not have you looking like a WHACK WHACK thug.” I was howling now like I’d never howled before. She finally threw me off her lap and I pulled my pants up, still weeping heavily. It looked very curious, a six foot tall man, weeping into a handkerchief while following his enraged mother out the door.

 

 We left  Hecht’s and drove to a store called Innovations, about five blocks away. I’d  never heard of it, but  generally I take the bus to work, and Mommy uses my BMW to tour around town…she finds all sorts of interesting things! “This is what I’m thinking of…” Mommy led me over to a rack of really weird looking shirts—they had ruffles around the collars, like they did back in the Revolutionary War…or maybe France during Louis XV. She picked out a vivid magenta shirt, and told me to go try it on. ‘I can’t wear this…” I was horrified. My mother tapped her purse significantly, and I remembered the hairbrush, and I went in to try it on. Oh, I looked so creepy in it. The ruffles itched my neck, too. I went back out so she could see it, and she and Mrs. Terwilliger, the proprietess of Innovations, looked quite approving. “You can wear it when you go out with your friend Pamela” Mommy said sweetly.

I just began crying and had another fit....

 

It's now six-thirty, and Master Ron says he's taking me down to the waterfront to make money...he has all these clothes out for me...oh, what to do?

The night was unbelievably humiliating for me...Ron told me he
wanted me to go down to the truck stops and the water front dressed
in a short miniskirt, net stockings, high heels, full make-up, a
bouffant wig, and spike heels...I was naked when he was discussing
this with me, and he was playing with my cock as we talked about it.

"I don't want to, Master Ron, please" I pleaded with him. Ron looked
quite attractive in a reddish top that showed off his muscles, and he
was stroking my dick slowly, as my hands writhed in cuffs behind my
back. When Ron does the soft-sell, rather than the violence and
threats, sometimes I weaken even faster...I hadn't had an orgasm in
six to eight weeks, and the hand going up and down my shaft, slowly
playing with my foreskin as Ron whispered in my ear "Come on, Uncle
Creamy...Do it for little Ronnie...don't you care about me, Uncle?"

He is so beautful, and despite all the abuse that I've taken from
him, he's a great kid, and I want him to be happy. My balls were
heavy and leaden with six weeks of teasing and denial from him and
Mommy, and my legs shook weakly. I bit my lip. "You know you want to
please Ronnie, Uncle Creamy."

I remembered fishing trips with him when he was a little kid, and
going to the movies, and birthday parties...he looked up to me so
much before the roles changed after he finished high school, and I
became his slave... Those beautiful eyes just bored into me, and
suddenly I forgot about being strapped on the bare bottom in front of
his friends, or being made to suck off the guy who came to read the
gas meter...whatever he wants, I thought.

Gradually he began pumping my cock faster and I began panting
heavily. I knew there were terrible penalties in store if I
ejaculated on his palm...he once stapled my foreskin to a wooden
board for that, and made me walk around with it all day! Faster and
faster he pumped , it felt soo good.

It's been so long since I got a release, and I'm just crying, CRYING,
to ejaculate... he reached under my cock and played with my balls,
and his black hair swept across my face, and I thought of how
beautiful he was, and I began sobbing softly. "B-but I want to
cum..." I sobbed. "I do all this, and you won't--won't let me cum."
Ronnie squirted some lube on his palm, I can't lie to you, he was
actually rubbing my genitals with motor oil.

He's used it to sodomize me as well...it's incredibly painful, but
the oil is slick and it goes faster...he cums faster inside of me,
and when he rubs my dick with it, I cum faster...really fast. I had
to hold back while I heard his answer.

"Maybe I'll let you cum, honey..." Ron crooned in my ear. "If you're
a good boy and you put on your makeup and your corset, and your fake
boobs and your eyelashes and eyeliner and masacara and rouge and
thick bright red lipstick, so the fellas down at the truck stop and
the water front give you at least $20 a shot for your good
blowjobs...and I've trained you well there, maybe you'll have your
happy lucky time when you get home...you can jerk off all over my
boots and lick it up, wouldn't you like that, Uncle Creamy?" Ron
kissed my neck and my cock grew to steel in his palm...Maybe this
wasn't a Lucy pulling away the football this time...I agreed.

And I went down to the waterfront in my whore clothes...I can't write
about what happened tonight, but maybe tomorrow!

Well, I wanted to finish telling everyone what happened last night when I went out with Master Ron to the truckstop...

Mommy was so pleased when we were walking out. She said I looked "pretty as a picture" My butt is still sore from the whipping she gave me in the dressing room at Hecht's so I didn't talk back. I was just so terrified to do this, but Master said that he wanted me to start doing more of what he wanted for a change (A CHANGE?) since he and his friends had been working so hard to give me an evening social life. I assume he was referring to the parties in the basement where they bend me over the pool table, and pull down my garters and panties and whip my ass and then take turns sodomizing me...or maybe he was referring to our long, drawn out stroking sessions.

 

Ron's fingers, surprisingly soft for a rough, tough bikers, stroking my cock playing with my heavy, elonogated balls...with all the backed-up semen. I'm always tied down or cuffed, sometimes to a bed or table, and often to a hassock in the living room, begging, begging him to let me cum...with tears in my eyes! But the sessions are intense.As I wrote at one-thirty this morning, Ron had been stroking me all evening in anticipation, and he actually didn't rehook the piercing...instead, because I was supposed to be a girl, he bound my cock to my stomach with duct tape (we can't afford expensive equipment) so it would look like I had a vagina, or at least there would be no bulge.

 

we didn't have time to go down to the waterfront by the time he got me all dolled up...we walked into this truck stop diner place, it was much bigger than any truck stop I'd seen before...Ron had my arm through his, and everyone wsa staring at us. I'd given Ron a couple of practice blowjobs before we got there, and while he was driving, so Ron was feeling fine. We came in, and Ron shook hands with the prorprietor, who looked at me and grinned. "This Lucy Lollipop?" he asked. "Just as I promised, Irv." Ron slapped me on the ass. "$20 a slurp, $50 for the back door, but the vagina belongs to me." Wait! He never told me that they were going to sodomize me. "Ron, they might have AIDS." I said into his ear." Ron reached under my skirt and ripped off one of the pieces of duct tape, and I squealed, half my pubic hair went with it." Ron smiled. "These are truckers, and you know truckers are all straight...Least until now." Ron giggled.

 

I began to protest, and Ron took me into the men's john and we had a replay of the dressing room scene with Mother, he pulled down my panties and took off his belt. Several truckers came in to watch. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK "You'll do what you're told, you dirty little whore WH ACK WHACK WHACK I'm sick of trying to sweet-talk you  WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK"  The truckers began to cheer. Finally I slumped, and Ron stopped and propped me back up on my knees. He whispered in my ear. "Uncle Creamy, if you can't earn two hundred dollars for Ronnie tonight, you're not going to be allowed to cum til June." Oh, God no...my balls are so heavy now. Between Ron's delicious teasing, and Mommy's long baths where she strokes every part of my crotch to "cleanse" me...and watching the cute girls up and down the avenue...and my hopeful girlfriend Pamela...I'm horny so much! It's been six weeks!

 

I knelt gingerly as the first guy came up to  me. A big fat type, with a salt and pepper beard and bald on top he was one of those who constantly has perspiration on the top of his lip "C'mon baby." he slurred. I sighed and opened my painted mouth, and let his cock come in, It was somewhat flaccid, I think the guy was drunk,but I began sucking slowly...then a little faster. Oh, it tasted awful, like it was mossy.I've never been made to fellate strangers before...usually just Ron and his friends!

 

Ron told me to make some serious money, but then he went out, because he was bored watching me suck off the line of truckers that were coming into the bathroom. If they'd all paid me, I probably would've earned the $200, probably about $500, actually...I was on my knees sucking for a long time...but some of the guys just gave me a dollar, two or three took money I'd already had, and one punched me in the mouth when I argued with him...this did not add to the sore jaw I already had from sucking cock...

 

I was able to give Ron $85, though I'd serviced more than thirty truckers. I tried to explain about the guys who stiffed me , and the one who punched me, but Ron would have none of it, he whipped my ass in front of the entire truckstop crowd, and then made me ride home in the trunk of my BMW. When we got home, Ron stripped me and then ripped the remaining duct tape off my crotch, which made me scream, and then Mother came out, and Ron told Mother that I was bullying him...this made her reach for her elephant's tusk hairbrush...

 

Today (Sunday) I was too sick to go to church with Mother, so I stayed in bed...she came home and gave me an ice-cold Enema, which was not what I needed. About an hour ago, Ron came in and tied my arms up and unlocked my piercing and began his slow, soft stroking of my mangled meat (a couple truckers had kicked me in the "cunt") There is no hair on my crotch whatsoever, it's all been ripped off...But Ron stroked and stroked and played his fingers on my swollen testicles, and toldme good news...he would give me another chance next Saturday night! If I could get $200 for him then, he'd rescind the "til June" orgasm date, and let me cum! What a great nephew, huh?

Captain’s Log, February 23, 2004

 

Oh, I am so unhappy tonight. After that vile weekend I had with being beaten at Hechts in the dressing room, and then being orally sodomized at the truck stop (Master Ron says next week it will be a Trailways station bathroom) I thought things could get no worse. But today, something incredible happened, and there was nothing I could do about it… Pamela and I were kissing passionately, finally, and she said “Let’s get a hotel room, my treat.” I was so excited, and we drove to one immediately. I hoped my secretary would cover for me if Mommy or Master Ron called, but I was so distracted…once in the room at the hotel, Pamela went in the bathroom and came out in a body stocking, a sheer fishnet thing that fit tightly over her breasts and long, pretty legs. She was all made up and began prancing around in front of me..I stripped to my boxer shorts before remembering that I had my piercing on!

 

Oh, how ghastly…I just looked so helpless. Pamela looked at me and took my hand. “What’s wrong, Creamy? Don’t you…are you shy? You know, I really like you, and you’ve been so nice to me.” Pamela began rubbing the inside of my thigh, and whispering in my ear. “Don’t be scared…I’m a quiet girl,but I love sucking dicks…you are such a handsome, upstanding guy, and we spend time together, and you’ve been such a gentleman. I miss men like that, you know” She kept rubbing my thigh and my cock began to struggle against the cruel piercing.  I tried so hard to not look at her full breasts, pushing against the fishnet top, but it was so difficult. She has those light pink nipples that I like in a woman—Mommy has brown ones, but don’t ask how I know that. Pamela began kissing my neck and whispering about sex, and why I shouldn’t have to be such a gentleman, and I  was just so frustrated…Oh, God!  “Do you want to lie down and neck, sweetie…” Pamela asked.

 

I nodded and said “Oh, Pamela, I am so attracted to you…I just am nervous. Could we take it easy today/’ Pamela smiled warmly. “Of course we can, Creamy.” We lay down on the bed and  began necking. Pamela is certainly a proficient necker, and she kept rubbing her long nails over my chest as my cock strained against the testicles, where the frenum was hooked. Oh, that hurt…Pamela kept rubbing her nipples against my chest, and I was just thrusting and moaning, I felt like I should pull back, because my groin was in such pain, but when would I get a chance like this again? Pamela was so irresistible, and I had to gently dissuade her from giving me a hickey. “It might upset my mother.” Oh boy, would it.

 

A girl in college gave me a hickey once. It was amazing that time, because I was living at home and Mommy had the same rules she has now, no socializing in the evenings,  but the girl liked me, and  I got this big red hickey, and Mommy was so angry…she put me in a frilly pink dress with Mary Janes and white socks and a red wig and pink nail polish and we walked to the sorority house…when we got there, a number of girls, including Rachel, the one who gave me the hickey, were sitting on the steps, and a couple of frat boys were lounging as well. Mommy began talking to this one hottie in a pink cashmere sweater. “My daughter is interested in joining your sorority…is it a lot of fun?” The girl looked at me, my legs were hairy, and I had five o’clock shadow on my jaw, under all the heavy pancake and rouge. Rachel, the girl who gave me the hickey, was wearing a tank top in which her nipples showed through, and she cocked her head. Had she seen me before? One of the frat guys pointed to my legs and snickered, and I hung my head. “Little Creamette here is just so shy.” Mommy said with a grin. “She thinks she might blossom in a nice sorority environment. I looked so odd, as this was 1981, and I had this 1954 dress on…”Well, Creamette could always come to our rush party.” The head girl was quite doubtful about this, but determined to be nice. “Creamette do you bench press?” one of the frat guys asked…my shoulders were quite broad, unfortunately.

 

I was at the school on a wrestling scholarship, and did work out quite a bit…I also played a little football in the intramural league, it was an excuse to get out of the house…the rest of the sorority story is too painful to discuss..but I never got a hickey in college again!

 

Pamela and I necked and touched each other for nearly two hours, and my dick felt like it was being hauled by oxen, before this was over. Pamela could see that there was some liquid on my shorts…despite the piercing, I still was pre-ejaculating like no tomorrow! “Would you like me to take my top off?” Pamela asked kittenishly…in a moment I was kissing her bare, full breasts, making the nipples hard, and oh, I wanted to find a way to break that piercing. This was one of the most challenging chastity experiences I think I’ve ever had! My balls were huge and leaden, and my cock was just trembling with frustrated desire. At some point, I made an excuse to get back to work, and Pamela smiled. “Honey, I think this might take some time.” I was blushing “Yes, Pam I know…” Pamela laughed. “But I could tell you enjoyed it, Creamy! Would you like to do this again tomorrow? My brother-in-law owns this motel and I can rent us the room for twenty-five dollars a day!” Oh, tomorrow

Captain’s Log, February 24, 2004

 

Oh, my God…I have to get this piercing off! Last night when I came in, my balls and cock were overly swollen from the experience with Pamela on the bed in the motel…I had showered to get all of her perfume off me, and I didn’t want to upset Mommy…but she said I looked a bit sweaty and hot..if she only knew! So Mommy stripped me down and  gave me a big  soapy enema—I resisted as best I could, but a back hand from her got me on my hands and knees in preparation. She made me hold it in for a good five minutes before expulsion, and then she unlocked my piercing.

 

 “That’s a good boy.” Mommy remarked. “I am so glad Ronald thought of this little gizmo for you, honey, you were always playing with that nasty little thing! Oh, how I’ve worried.” It is true, whenever Mommy caught me playing with my wee-wee from the ages of four to nineteen, she’d punish me in some horrible way—whipping my cock with a vacuum cleaner cord,  burning my genitals with her Viceroy cigarettes and after I went to college,she began taking me to Father O’Meara, who was truly a vindictive man. She would leave me with him for an hour after telling him of my onanistic sins…

 

Father would strip me naked, tie me to a pew in the deserted chapel and whip me hard with the same quirt he used to whack himself on the back to get rid of his odd urges. Then he would whip my cock some, and once or twice he tied my cock and balls to a rope attached to the church bell, and then pulled the other rope, which knocked my then youthful body up to the top of the tower, hanging by my genitals! After punishing me, and counseling me about the evils of self-abuse, I would suck Father to a full erection, and he would have his way in my twitching rear end…rather tight at age 20, I thought!

 

But now Mommy was letting me into the bath, and she began washing me…Continually I’ve told her that I am old enough to wash myself, and men should take showers, not bubble baths as I’ve been subjected to in her house all my life. But not for her “Baby Boy” no sir! Mommy was concerned because my genitals were so swollen. “What happened, my little Princess?” Mommy looked quite concerned. She began to lather up my cock and balls.

 

“This must be a cleansing issue, don’t you think?” After she’d washed my genitals thoroughly, I was even more erect than before. So Mommy took me into the bedroom, tied me to the bed, and began working on my erection with baby oil. “You poor thing, this little booger needs cleansing and massage, I think..you might have sprained it.” Mommy is a beautiful woman, and quite youthful. Although I have not seen her in the buff, despite her stripping me down every day for most of the time I’ve lived in her house, I certainly have noticed the swell of her breasts in the tight cleavage of her various dresses and low cut blouses.

 

Mommy was leaning over, giving me quite a show as she rubbed and massaged my poor cock, scraping it with her French nails, and trying to calm the swelling down while actually of course, pumping it up again. I closed my eyes and willed myself to go limp, but it didn’t happen. Master Ron came in from school and watched Mommy. “What are you doing, Grandmommy?” he asked. “Is Uncle Creamy not well?”

 

Mommy looked at Ron seriously. “I don’t understand this, he is bloated in his nasty.” As she said “nasty” Mom whacked me in the balls with her fist, and I burst into tears. “No whining now, Creamy.” Mommy said  severely. "Ron, what do I do with your uncle? This--" she pointed at my straining erection-"is just disgusting!"

Ron looked at my engorged cock speculatively. “I think all this weeping he’s doing is tantrum stuff. Uncle Creamy, why don’t you stop thinking those nasty thoughts…then you’ll have a nice limp little thing!” Ron punctuated this by grabbing my hard cock and twisting it around and around, which only made it harder…

 

Rubbing my member up and down, teasing the frenum, Master Ron continued “If you can’t stop these obscene thoughts, showing your naked swollen wee-wee to my grandmother—“ I don’t want to, she makes me, I thought. “I am going to have to do something to calm it down.” After playing with my cock for another couple of minutes, Uncle Ron got mad, and unbuckled his belt. I closed my eyes. Oh, please go down, he’s going to kill me WHACK WHACK WHACK the pain of the belt surged through my tumescent scrotum, I opened my eyes in horror to note that my nephew was using the buckle end against my genitalia, and the heaviness of the brass was causing my distended scrotum to bounce, viciously.

 

 I cried and cried while Ron swung and swung, hitting my stomach, my legs, oh and once a nipple. Mommy just nodded and smiled grimly. She hates perversion, you know. Finally my cock was limp and there was a tiny little bit of blood on the tip.

Ron smiled…he has a dimple it’s so beautiful! Ron stroked my cheek as he spoke to me softly... “Youre a good uncle, Creamy…thank you for being such a good example, and losing that hideous hard-on.”

 

My balls were huger than ever, though…with the backed up cum of six weeks of teasings and chastity, plus today with Pamela, Mom, and Ron…it looked as if I had a gunnysack hanging from my legs…Ron tickled my huge scrotum, and idly rubbed his forefinger up and down a vein on my cock, talking softly about what a good man I was, deep down, when I wasn’t having these nasty thoughts. How can a 19 year old reformatory grad and community college student lecture a  former Navy captain, Harvard M.B.A. and second chief officer of one of the largest investment banks on the East Coast? But Ron kept stroking my cock, and telling me to just obey more, and think less about those nasty sex things, as if he wasn’t screwing men and women every day and night!

 

Suddenly, I was erect again, and Mommy snorted, and Ron picked up the belt again, raising it…and the night went on!

 

Then today at lunch, Pamela came by again!. I have made a bit of money for the investment bank, and taking another afternoon off wouldn't hurt me...unless my family found out, of course, so off we went to the hotel. I was still so concerned about the damn piercing, but again she stripped, and I was in my undies, and we started necking...I am supposed to wear panties under my clothes, along with my long johns, but I  have been changing to regular men's boxers during the day in case all this happened. Today I told Pamela I wanted to give her pleasure, instead of her giving me a blowjob, that could wait til we knew each other better...

 

So I spent an hour and a half going down on her...I am proficient at cunnilingus, as I was taught it as a teenager by an evil aunt, and have gone down on both my wives, who were also my Mistresses (how does it happen to me?) and I've eaten out many of Master Ron's women friends, Matter of fact, some would come by on a weekend while Ron was out, and grab me and we'd go to my room, and I'd eat them out, while they laughed at my trembling dick in it's cruel piercing.

 

After Pamela had had her fourth orgasm, she pulled me back up and hugged me madly..."Sweetheart, I've never felt so good!"she breathed. "Please let me suck you, darling..let me give you some pleasure! She groped my penis through the boxer shorts, thankfully not feeling the metal piercing and my cock jumped in her hand, and I rolled my eyes and said "Let's just get back to work, Pammy...I've got all this stuff piled up with these long afternoons...we can get together tomorrow!" Pamela beamed.

 

Unfortunately, I was so distracted that I forgot to put my panties and pink long johns back on, and when Mommy pulled my pants down to check on my "swelling" she saw those macho briefs, and I got a hiding that I don't want to talk about. Then I was locked in the closet for an hour...and Master Ron has yet to find out! oooh. Mommy has also reduced my bedtime back from seven-thirty to six oclock for two weeks, so I will remember that I am a little baby and not a big strong, boxer-wearing man....I had to sneak out of bed and write this in the dark on my laptop...ooh me.

 Captain’s Log, February 25, 2004

 My God, my prick is now just raw! Good things and upsetting things happened to me today.  Today Pamela and I had our long lunch at the motel, and at some point, before I was aware of it, she’d gotten my boxer shorts down (I had to buy a new pair, as Mommy confiscated the others) and Pam discovered my piercing. “What the hell’s this?” Pamela twiddled the piercing. I began crying, knowing that I would lose this marvelous girl, but I had to be honest. I told her the entire story of my life—Mommy’s peculiar treatment of me as a child through young adulthood, my various enslavements from my grad school landlady through Ensign Benson, and moving back home, and having Mommy and Master Ron take over my training again.

 

 And I told her how they controlled much of my behavior by carrot and stick—the carrot being the orgasm, which was controlled by the chastity piercing. Pamela  held me close to her breasts as I sobbed the story out, and she stroked my hair. “You poor, poor thing.” I was gasping “I know, I know…I don’t know how to get out of this…I’m drawn to slavery and I pull away from it too…I’ve even started a journal on a Yahoo group to tell others similarly afflicted about my propensity towards slavery…but I want to be normal!” I shook my head. “You can dump me if you want to, Pamela—I know that you must’ve wanted some nice normal guy, but I’m just not him. I could move out of my mother’s house, take my car and go, they wouldn’t follow me or blackmail me—but I love my Mommy and want to make sure my nephew is raised well hard as he beats me…so some of this is my fault as well!”

 

Pamela smiled. “Well, I think you’re a wonderful man. I’m not letting go of you just yet.” My heart sang, and Pamela crawled down the bed to examine my piercing. “My God, it really is locked up tight, isn’t it?” She twiddled the tiny padlock with a long red nail, and stroked the underside of my cock, watching it  bulge and  tremble in its prison. Pamela cocked her head and stroked my bowed penis some more, her breasts heaving in this camisole-body stocking she was wearing, and I got hornier and hornier.  Pamela started trying to lick my cock a bit, and I felt an intense surge of pain as my dick tried to rip loose from the piercing . “Stop, Pamela, please stop!” I begged. “I can’t take the pain of the piercing, because I get so horny when you  lick and stroke me, baby!” Pamela pulled her mouth and hands away from my horribly tortured cock. “What do you mean, Creamy? You don’t want me to  touch your cock?” Pamela seemed so confused.

 

“No, no…”I shook my head. “I love it when you touch me, and would love a blowjob, but my cock is locked in rings, and so when you stroke me, it’s pure torture, as it’s trying to get loose. It can’t get loose, and so the harder it gets, the more painful it is.”  Pamela smiled, and looked at the piercing carefully. “I wonder if I could pick the lock?” She looked in her purse for a hairpin, but didn’t have one. Of course after talking earnestly and staring at each other, she ended up playing with my cock for forty-five minutes, and then we necked some more, and I tried to push my bowed penis into her pussy…oh did that hurt! Pam was also fascinated with the condition of my scrotum, which was horribly distended. The idea that there was such a back log of semen in there absolutely fascinated her, and she couldn’t keep her hands off that, either. By the time I got back to work, I was staggering like a drunk, I was so horny and back logged. I got into the office and my secretary, Miss Braunstein told me the bad news…”Your nephew is waiting in your office, Mr. Creame.” She smiled weakly. “He seems very upset at your absence.”

 

the rest of the day was very bad

I ended yesterday’s entry with finding out that Ron was sitting in my office, because I was too overwhelmed to discuss the news of what happened later that afternoon. I expected to see Ron with his feet on my desk, tapping the Spencer paddle in his hands, but he was sitting seriously, and arose to give me a warm hug. Instead of doing his usual interrogation about where I’d been for several hours, he sat me down and told me that he was moving to some town in Ohio, to be with Egbert, a man Ron met through a personals ad in the SandmUtopian, a D&S rag. I still recall the ad, it went like this,

 

“ Generous Slave-Boy, 58, ISO young Master or Mistress to be keyholder for my chastity tube. I will go about my business with my tube on, and once a month come to a place of your choosing to go through humiliation/punishment sessions, followed by extensive tease/denial training, in return for getting the key. Will pay 2500 for each weekend we participate.”

 

I mean, Egbert is the owner of a huge jar-lid manufacturing company, and his pic is in Newsweek and Fortune all the time. He gives Ron something like two or three grand for the weekend, and I don’t know what pissed Ron off, but once I went over there, and met Eggy, and Ron told him “Egbert, you rotten Egg…you are going to suck Slave Creamy’s cock for having been such a worthless fuck.” And this distinguished looking fellow with a gray mane blew me to three orgasms while Ron bent down and burned the jar-lid CEO’s poor penis with a car cigarette lighter. The trips had grown longer and longer, and Eggy had had Ron to San Francisco twice, but I was surprised, and frankly sad that Ron would leave. It’s been difficult being his cum receptacle and his whipping boy, but he is my nephew, and a good kid in spite of it all. “I’m in love, Uncle.” Ron said solemnly…and I retorted in a rare burst of impudence,  “In love with his wallet.” Ron had grinned and told me to meet him at home in ten minutes.

 

 Ron saw my face as he met me in front of our house, alighting from his bike as I got out of the Beemer. “There’s good news, too Uncle Creamy.” When we got into the vestibule, Ron ordered me to undress, and it was not for me to question why. When I got into the living room, I got a huge jolt. There was Egbert, kneeling, naked as a jaybird as well, Mommy and next to her Pamela, and they were talking as if they’d known each other for years. Pamela looked up at me and smiled, and alarmed, I tried to cover myself and step back into the vestibule, but Master Ron stuck his lit Marlboro into  my buttocks and  I screamed, and jumped forth again. Mommy smirked, but Pamela smiled warmly. “Pa…Pamela…I’m so sorry….I can explain.” It couldn’t have been too much of a shock for her, as Then Pamela stood up, and came over, taking my hand. “Darling, it’s all right. I know everything. I met Ron actually, several weeks ago.” She gave me a hug, and my cock swelled in its piercing. Pamela was wearing a minidress, and it was difficult to behave like a gentleman.

 

I realized of course that Pam had already had the exposure that day to the piercing, but now she said she’d known Ron for several weeks? Mommy looked at me and sneered. “Pam, honey, sit back down on the sofa…Sonny, get on your knees next to Gramps there!” Tears welled up in my eyes. I wanted to sit next to Pamela on the couch. I felt a whack to the back of my head and looked at Master Ron, who snapped his fingers and pointed to the floor, and I sunk down, my lip trembling, realizing that no matter what else happened, these women, my mother and the girl I love, are clothed and comfortable on the sofa, and all I get is nudity on the hard floor. I looked over at Egbert who was staring at the floor.

 

Eggy’s penis was fully erect, and I noted all these little red marks on the shaft and glans, and realized that they were cigarette burns. Ron collapsed in my LaZ-Boy, and Egbert turned and quietly began licking Ron’s boots. It was odd to see this dignified fellow, according to the Fortune article, Eggy, product of the Social Register and  a grad of Choate and Dartmouth, bending and licking the filthy boots of a tattooed  parolee currently enrolled in the adult literacy program at the local junior college. But Eggy’s tongue was cleaning mud off Ron’s boot heel as if it were a mint chocolate chip ice cream cone. Eggy’s cock was bursting, and this apparently irritated Ron, who didn’t like to leave his slave-boy out of  the chastity belt too long…Ron kicked Eggy away from him and said “Go get me the car cigarette lighter out of your Jag, Eggy.”

 

Egbert  looked somewhat alarmed. “Th-the cigarette lighter, Master?” He had reason to be upset, I thought…on the night that Ron had Eggy fellate me, Ron made Eggy run out and heat up the cigarette lighter about six times, making ugly little burns all over his groin and backside. You could still see the scars. Ron looked grim. “I feel like branding you, Egbert…are you arguing with me?”

 

Egbert looked alarmed. "Sir, do you want me to put some clothes on?" Egbert was a prominent person in his community, and even in this one, it would be a tad embarrassing to have a gray haired CEO jumping about naked on the porch. "Please, sir, can I at least put on my shorts?" Ron laughed again and hit Egbert with a roundhouse slap that knocked him down, much harder than he'd ever hit his Uncle Creamy, and Egbert rose, crying, and left the house, running to the car and running back to the house. But Ron leaned on the door as Egbert hammered it desperately. Ron finally let Egbert back in the house, grinning, and Eggy ran in and handed Ron the oblong cigarette lighter., you know, the kind that you push in and it glows red at the end to light your cigarette.Ron held the lighter in one hand, and made a hand signal, and Eggy stood at attention, as if he were a Buckingham Palace guard who’d taken up streaking. I turned to see how Pamela was taking all this, but she sat with her hands folded as if viewing a slide show on Monet.

 

“So, Uncle Creamy…I followed you and Pamela around a couple of times, and then I had lunch with her…this was right after Eggy proposed we move to San Francisco and get married…we can do that there now…” Ron pushed the cigarette lighter into the purple glans of  Eggy’s straining cock. It had been a while since Eggy had cum, I remembered. Ron had been training Eggy for fourteen months, and felt that even if Eggy went through his training, tease torture, and all that, AND paid his fee…that didn’t mean Ron had to give him an orgasm…so more often than not, and certainly for the last four months, Ron had put Eggy on the plane home to Ohio on Sunday as orgasm-less as he’d been arriving the Thursday night before. As Ron pushed the lighter in further, I could smell the searing flesh a bit, but Eggy just threw back his shoulders and didn’t make a move. He knew that if he began whining, Ron would whip him, and probably wouldn’t give Eggy his four hours of lubricant teasing back at Eggy’s suite at the Ritz.

As Ron continued to burn Eggy’s cock, he went on with his talk. “You’d be surprised, Eggy…Pam doesn’t have a brother-in law who owns the motel at all…I put the three days of motel time on Eggy’s card, and told Pam about your need to be teased, denied and chastitsed.” Eggy was gritting his teeth as Ron pushed the lighter closer into the suffering mushroom head of Egbert’s penis. “Pamela has passed her tests with flying colors, and now I feel like I can leave you in her capable hands, along with Grandma’s while Eggy and I move to his house in Berkely.” Eggy screamed involuntarily, and Ron pulled away the cigarette lighter…and yessir, there was a nice little brand there on the side of the glans, right near the tiny piss hole. Red and angry, it was, and it would stay. Ron told Eggy to find some ice cubes for his wee-wee, and continued. “Eggy and I are leaving tonight, actually.”

 

 I gasped “Tonight? You’ve just told us all this…Ron, you’re my nephew…and my Master. I love Pamela, but,you’ve been topping me since your eighteenth birthday!” Pamela motioned for me to stand, but I crawled to her and began stroking her feet, and she smiled. “Darling, I know you’ll miss Ron,but I have a good idea of what your needs are…you need a disciplinarian, a loving disciplinarian to complement the hard work your Mommy does on your behavior.” I looked at Pamela with tears in my eyes. “I had thought…we could have a normal…relationship.” I mouthed the word “blowjob” (Mommy doesn’t allow anyone but herself to utter profanity) and Pamela shook her head, smiling. “ I don’t think so, darling…I have needs too. I want to find a wonderful, generous man, like Egbert, who will care for me and spoil me, and understand that I enjoy dating all sorts of people, even AFTER marriage…” 

 

That evening, Ron, Eggy, Pamela and myself went to a dungeon he’d rented for this occasion, and he showed her lots of tricks…too many. I said good night and goodbye to Ron with tears in my eyes after the dungeon session. Pam took me back to her place, after all that, and  cuffed my hands behind my back, and my feet together, and then took the keys that Ron had given her, and unlocked my piercing…she dipped her soft hand with its long red nails into a bowl of Lubriderm, and stroked me enthusiastically until nine this morning, when I was re-locked and sent off to work, still  chastised, frustrated, but quite in love with this remarkable woman!

 

I am writing this from Pam’s PC..I am over here, and in a couple of days we will be moving back to the house to live with Mommy, as Pam says she can’t manage me alone…oh, what next?

Captain’s Log: Friday, February 27, 2004

11:02 pm

 

Well, today Pamela and I both took the afternoon off…we need a weekend to explore. I started the afternoon off pretty well…Ron gave me back my credit cards and control of the bank account, though of course Mommy is a joint holder (if not joint contributor) I took Pamela to a jewelry store and bought her a ruby pendant, the kind that is surrounded by little diamonds,  that I thought would  go well sloped over her breasts, and I had my arm around her while she tried it on, the owner mumbling all those ridiculous sales phrases. She gave me  a huge kiss afterwards, and I figured I was in!

 

We went to her place, where I kind of hoped we might get it on, I don’t know why, after what Ron told her. Pamela is a gorgeous woman, with swept blonde hair and she’s quite curvy. I had really enjoyed kissing her bare breasts earlier in the week, but today Pamela was dressed in a snug turquoise top that she’d bought in Brazil, where all the women, I think dress like tarts. Pamela is the webmaster for our investment firm, and thus is allowed to dress a little less formally than everyone else, and so she also had skintight jeans on, and these cute blue high heels. When we got into her place, I tried to put my arms around her, and Pamela gently pushed me away. “No, no, Creamy…” Pamela smiled and guided me to the bedroom, and I began getting rather excited..was this it?

 

“I’m going into the bathroom to touch up, sweetheart, and I want you to strip and lie face down on the bed.” What was this? “Yes, ma’am.” I said without thinking. I really had hoped to dissuade her from her S&M interests  till at least I could screw her once, after all that teasing at the motel. But I sighed, and stripped, and lay face down on the bed. I was still in my chastity piercing. This has its advantage in that I have more movement in my cock, but on the downside I can also twiddle and half-masturbate my cock, which is extremely frustrating. I lay there for a time, and wondered whether Pamela would come out naked, or in some sort of lingerie…but she came out wearing everything she went in with, including the shoes. What happened to the wanton girl who stripped for me in the motel?

 

“Now, Creamy…I’m going to secure you.” I looked up at her suspiciously. “What-what do you mean?” Pamela smiled and cuffed my hands with a pair of police handcuffs Ron had given her, and then put a second pair on my ankles! Ron knew this trick; when he would play his long fingers over my cock for hours, he noticed that when I moved my legs around it sometimes worked to my advantage when I wanted to cum…so locking them together made me completely helpless unless he wanted me to cum, and usually then I had to do it manually on my knees. Also, when Ron was giving me a whipping face down, hands cuffed, he would cuff my ankles so I couldn’t move about…hey, I’m face down now!

 

I looked up, and  Pamela was fluffing a pillow, which she put under my crotch area so my butt stuck up…just like Ron did when he was about to discipline me. But I bought her a fuckin’ RUBY! With DIAMONDS!  It was about seven hundred dollars! Why would she whip me? She just squealed when I got her the pendant! But I looked up and there it was—Ron’s Spencer paddle, a big, rectangular evil looking thing with holes  like Swiss Cheese throughout the polished inlaid wood. Pamela smiled at me. She tapped the paddle in her hand. “Ron says that you are manipulative and don’t always behave well, and you need constant training. He says you’ve got to be corrected or you take advantage of people, Creamy.”  I had a hard time looking up to her, as I was cuffed and on my stomach, but I tried. “Pamela!  What do you mean? I’ve treated you like a princess! I got you jewelry, we went out to dinner last night after leaving the dungeon, I only want to be good to you—“ Pamela shook her head. “Oh, Creamy” she said sadly. “Don’t you think buying me this ridiculous thing—“

 

Pamela lifted the diamond encircled ruby pendant off her cleavage and then dropped it again”—shows you were trying to manipulate me into going to bed with you this afternoon?” Pamela shook her head sorrowfully. “Oh, Creamy, my sweet boy.” This from a child of twenty-seven—“what am I going to do with you…” Pamela laid the paddle gently on my right asscheek, where the wood felt rather cool. She rubbed it around a bit. God I couldn’t move. “I like it when you buy me gifts, Creamy” Pamela smiled, “But I must teach you not to manipulate me!”

WHACK WHACK WHACK I couldn’t believe how hard this 110 pound beauty was swatting me…she had at least the power of my muscular nephew. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK Pamela neatly swatted each cheek in turn, quite unlike Ron’s sloppy  slams across my ass. Her dexterity with the Spencer was like nothing I’d ever experienced…and much, much worse. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK …

 

Within seven minutes of the first stroke, I was bawling. Outright bawling. This was so embarrassing. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK. Pamela was implacable. The crying didn’t seem to matter, and she never inqujired whether or not I had a safeword (not that I’d ever been allowed one) WHACK WHACK WHACK I kept trying to move around on the bed, but my hands and feet were cuffed, so all I really could do was jump, like a rabid garter snake, falling right back in the same place on the bed. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK. I began screaming for her to stop, just screaming…and finally Pamela laid the paddle down.

 

I figured now she was going to roll me over and tease me, but instead I felt the handcuffs being unlocked and then the ankle cuffs, and she helped me up, and I cried in her arms for a few minutes. “D..don’t you want to tease me…do anything” I sobbed. “No, Creamy…”Pamela whispered in my ear. “I want you to remember not to be so arrogant and manipulative, sweetheart.”

 

So then we sat around (I stood) reading books, and at some point Pamela asked me if I would mind doing some dusting…she had a look in her eye. I dusted and vaccumed the apartment, and cleaned the bathroom, and then took Pamela to a nice restaurant for dinner. She said “Drive to your house, please.” I drove us to my house. “Get out of the car, Creamy. I’ll give it back to you tomorrow.” Oh, no, not that house, with Mommy…”But Pamela, it’s Friday night!” I begged. “Have you no feelings? Can’t I stay the night at your house?” I looked so hangdog, and Pamela laughed. “I would, Creamy, but I have a late-night visitor…I’ll see you Monday.” This was even more of a shock. Monday? I thought we were going to be living at her house, and I was going to have to spend the weekend with…I turned and the door opened, and Mommy was looking out, smiling. “Come on in, you bad boy…Pamela let you go tonight, didn’t she? She’s probably after more compelling company…Come on in, and you can paint Mommy’s toenails...and then we can play dress-up baby! I've been to that store, Innovations again for you...” I trudged in the house with my head down tears streaking my cheeks, my butt was blistered and my penis struggled in its chastity piercing.

 

Captain’s Log: Saturday, February 28, 2004

Oh, God…last night with Mommy was so depressing…she had me come in, and she saw me sulking…”Oh, honey. Sometimes a girl wants to go out with a regular guy, you know? It’s not your fault, and now you and Mommy can have fun together.”

 

 Mommy must be attracted to me, and I to her. She was wearing this little shimmy thing, and her cleavage was bursting out of it, and I think Pamela must have called her to tell her that I would be dropping back in. Mommy made some more maternal comments that weren’t very helpful, and then she made me strip off my clothes until I stood there, naked in my chastity piercing. I was still quite aroused by all I’d been through, and swollen, but I was pouting and staring at the floor…I couldn’t believe this! Back to Square One! I wouldn’t have dared be this obviously upset if Ron had been there, but Mommy took charge, she sure did.

 

“Are you upset, baby?” Mommy sat me down on the couch and told me to sit on my hands, as she unlocked the chastity piercing. “Goodness, look at that stiffie!” My cock rose like a metronome, swinging back and forth, and Mommy began toying with it, her long purple nails teasing the head, and  twiddling the straining shaft. She rubbed it for a minute or so, and I got very hot and pulled out one hand to help her and SWAT! Across my face Mommy’s hand went. I began to cry, which was even more embarrassing, and then Mommy swatted my already welted rear end with her elephant’s tusk hairbrush, and took me to the bathtub, and put me in, filling it with ice cold water. My teeth began to chatter, and Mommy took a bucket and poured some more water over my head, and then took this itchy scrubby thing and began scouring me all over

It hurt so much, the wire thing scrubbing me all over my crotch, and of course my crotch was completely shaved, Mommy takes care of that, though she hadn’t this week, and there were just a  few hairs, She took me out of the tub, still sobbing a bit, and rubbed me down with a rough towel, and then brought me into her room, which has always been a place of trepidation for me…

 

I can remember as a little boy bringing Mommy her tea in there while she was in bed, and if I dropped a thing, look out! Mommy laid me down on my bottom on the four poster bed, and found some ropes. “Mommy, please.” I begged. “No, no, sonny boy..you  know how you like to squirm around when I’m shaving you !” Mommy doesn’t want to have to get her hairbrush again.” I quieted down, and Mommy attached my four limbs to the posts, and there I was again, just like always.

 

Mommy put a pillow under my head, and sat down at the foot of the bed with some Edge shaving cream (get it? Edge) and a razor and lifted my swollen cock up with two purple talons. She then began shaving my crotch, and she did a thorough job, all over the scrotum, under the balls, everywhere. After she was done with this, she put the shaving stuff away and brought out some rubbing alcohol, and spread that on, which stung a bit, and then came the baby oil. “Now, honey” Mommy said to me tenderly.

 

“Mommy’s going to make that bad spot go away!” Mommy began rubbing the baby oil into my scrotum with her long fingers, and pulling my hard cock slightly with her other hand…I began to breathe through my mouth, quickly. Well, Pamela hadn’t given me any action down, here, but a boy can  always count on his mother!.

It hurt so much, the wire thing scrubbing me all over my crotch, and of course my crotch was completely shaved, Mommy takes care of that, though she hadn’t this week, and there were just a  few hairs, She took me out of the tub, still sobbing a bit, and rubbed me down with a rough towel, and then brought me into her room, which has always been a place of trepidation for me.

 

I can remember as a little boy bringing Mommy her tea in there while she was in bed, and if I dropped a thing, look out! Mommy laid me down on my bottom on the four poster bed, and found some ropes. “Mommy, please.” I begged. “No, no, sonny boy..you  know how you like to squirm around when I’m shaving you !” Mommy doesn’t want to have to get her hairbrush again.” I quieted down, and Mommy attached my four limbs to the posts, and there I was again, just like always.

 

Mommy put a pillow under my head, and sat down at the foot of the bed with some Edge shaving cream (get it? Edge) and a razor and lifted my swollen cock up with two purple talons. She then began shaving my crotch, and she did a thorough job, all over the scrotum, under the balls, and she even shaved the top of my thighs!

And finally it was done.

 

“There we go.” Mommy said approvingly. “Just like a newborn baby” I winced. I have been shaved that way every week by Mommy since I hit puberty…I remember complaining about it to Ensign Benson when I was in the Navy…and Ensign Benson who was my subordinate at work but my Master at home, thought this was great, and hygienic, and he began doing it too. “Just a crisp shave there, Captain, sir.”he’d say, as he scraped it  all off…if I complained, out came the strap!

 

Mommy completed my shave and rubbed my cock and balls thoroughly with witch hazel, which stung…and then out came the baby oil. “I know you’ve been through a lot, Sonny.” Mommy sounded regretful.”I can’t believe you want to run around with those girls instead of staying home with Mommy…look at the condition of your wee-wee.” She

began rubbing the baby oil into my cock, stroking it up and down, and then making an A-OK sign with her thumb and forefinger, and pushing my poor penis through it, back and forth…oh, it was turmoil. The phone rang. “Yes?” Mommy had a phone right next to her bed, and was quite ambidextrous “Pamela! How are you, dear?” Mommy began rubbing her middle finger on my frenum, the sensitive spot just under my glans. I was getting hotter and hotter, though I was wondering why my girlfriend was calling here.

 

“Oh, no, honey…everything’s fine.” Mommy leaned into the phone and turned one of her hands into an upside down palm, pushing the oil into the underside of my cock, and then grabbing it like a gear shift and giving it ten quick strokes, as I jumped. I kept mouthing “Let me talk to her” I didn’t want Mommy to say anything about what was going on here, it sounded vaguely incestuous, but Mommy believes you’re only as sick as your secrets. “Yes, he’s here. I gave Creamy a nice bath, and shaved his pubic…yes, you noticed that? It is very hygienic, isn’t it? Now I’m soothing him by rubbing baby oil into his wee-wee…he’s very excited. What?” Mommy rubbed baby oil into my testicles I began moving my hips around, and I felt the semen rising to the base of my cock, it might be Mommy rubbing, but who cares? I was getting really, really hot… “What’s that?” Mommy asked into the phone. “Oh, no, he wouldn’t make a nasty mess on his Mommy…I’d whip his nasty little thing with his late Daddy’s strap…whip it good, I would.” I suddenly began trying not to cum…holding back, oh, let me hold back, I’ve had that horrible leather thing aganst my penis before…oh, please…Mommy rubbed and pulled her hands around the base and up and down the shaft, quicker and quicker, oh, please let me think about the multiplication tables four times seven is twenty-eight, four times eight is thirty-two…Finally Mommy  let go of my dick and stood up and began walking in the kitchen, still talking with   Pamela. “Yes, yes he’s a good boy. You have company? Roger? There’s an interesting name is he a cutie?” The rest of the night was just miserable, playing dress-up with these weird clothes Mommy got me, I was re-pierced of course…now my cock and balls feel like they are going to die…I mean, there’s going to be an explosion like no tomorrow

The next day, Mommy and I were outside doing yard work. I was trying to rake up some left over leaves in anticipation for spring, and  Mommy was bagging some of them. Suddenly she began playing a game with me that we usually play in the fall…it’s called Stuffing.

 

 For every pile of leaves I made, Mommy would shove one old brown, crackly leaf into my underpants, reaching right in there, Within about an hour, I had a bunch of leaves in my pants, and it was growing incredibly itchy and painful in there, as the leaves were congested with little twigs, a small bird’s nest, and the new insects that were coming out of the ground. It got really itchy, and I wanted to go inside and change my clothes. “No, no…Creamy, “ Mommy said. “You’ve got this work to do…” I began to reason with her. “Mommy, this is too much “stuffing” The leaves last fall were smooth,but these are crumbled up, and my crotch feels like hell.” Mommy screamed “How dare you curse in front of your Mother?” She began crying wildly, and gesticulating.

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Green, our neighbor opened the gate and walked in..”Muriel, is everything all right?” Mommy was hysterical “It’s him, Floyd…I work myself to the bone, a widow raising that boy, putting him through school, and when I ask him to do a little work in the yard, he begins cursing at me.” Mommy was sobbing hysterically, and her boobs were shaking in the tight green sweater she wore. Mr. Green had always had the hots for Mommy, he’s a big white haired guy, about sixty-one.

“He’s awful, Floyd…look at him, he—“ “This is damned ridiculous! I—I’ve” I shouted but Mommy cried louder. “And listen to him curse, and look,he’s playing with his privates!” I was scratching my crotch because of all the itchy leaves trapped in there, but I can see why Mr. Greene would believe her. Mr. Greene had witnessed a couple of scenes between me and Ron when he’d given me a whipping in the backyard…I think he knew I wasn’t the average forty-two year old…and he wanted to impress my mother, who he had the hots for. “You foul mouthed little pervert! You don’t want to help your mother with her chores, you just want to curse and play with yourself…how disgusting!”

Mr Greene  went to a willow tree and pulled out his pocketknife and cut off a long branch, and walked back over to us.

 

 Mommy was still crying, but she was also watching him, and she smirked at me. “That’s enough rebellion now, mister, take those pants down!” Without even waiting for me to unbuckle my belt, Mr. Greene grabbed me by the waist and undid my pants, dragging them and my long johns down, as I was protesting vociferously. “Look, I’m an investment banker, in this community, you just drive a bus, I—“ The leaves were falling out of my crotch, and I realized how ridiculous I looked, bare assed in the front yard of a residential neighborhood.

 

 “Why’s he have all those leaves and a bird nest in his privates?” inquired Mr. Greene of my mother. “I don’t know, Floyd. ..the boy needs to be in a mental hospital, I think.” I stomped my foot, and nearly tripped over my belt. “You’re lying, Mommy! You shoved these leaves…” WHACK WHACK Mr. Greene lashed my poor ass twice with the long willow switch. “You’re in deep enough without slandering your mother, Mister.” I saw a couple of twenty year old college girls approaching and begged Mr. Greene. “Could we at least do this in the back yard?”

 

Greene dragged me into the back yard, where the neighbors couldn’t watch me floundering around with my bare butt in the air. “Bend over that  picnic table, boy!” Greene ordered. “Or we’ll go back out front and those girls can see you get your spanking!” I sighed and bent over and Greene lifted the switch  and whistled it down across my bare ass WHACK WHACK WHACK Boy, could that old man strike! He must work out at a gym or something. Greene lifted and swatted my rear end about twenty-five times, and I began to shake in my lowered pants and scream with pain. What with the paddlings I’d gotten the night before from Pamela and Mommy, this was breaking all the blisters on my rear end that were trying to heal.

 

That was about three this afternoon, and now it's close to seven. Mommy and Mr. Greene are getting to know each other in the living room, and I am dressed in a French maid's outfit and am about to bring them some porterhouse steaks...my ass feels like someone has been playing darts with it, and the pressure in my balls is still unrelieved. But at least I can communicate with my e-gruop through my laptop..what next?

Captain’s Log: Sunday, February 29, 2004

 Today was a long day. Mommy and Mr. Greene spent the night together, and this morning, the three of us went to church, me wearing that horrible blouse with the ruffles around the neck. It's so weird looking and all the pretty girls at church were looking at me curiously. Mommy always makes me wear white gloves to church as well, and I was also in striped pants and spats. I looked like Bozo on acid. It wsa just awful, pure hell sitting through the whole sermon and the text and getting up and sitting down, and singing. One or two of the guys I knew when I was growing up were there with their wives and kids; they've never quite gotten over Mommy's influence on me. When  we were all in elementary school, I was a good student and a fair athelete; but forget any non-organized activities.

 

Mommy kept me home much of the time, and now and then when she caught me sneaking off to build a tree fort or swimming in the creek with my pals, she'd chase after me with a switch or her hairbrush, and punish me right thre... they can still tell I'm her sissy...oh, how I was glad to go home today!

Captain’s Log: Monday, March 2, 2004

Oh, glorious! Pamela and I reunited at work today, and wisely, I didn't inquire after her weekend. Hopefully, she will lose interest in whoever else she's found...I really want to move in! She keeps changing her mind, though...but she and I went straight to her apartment after work, and we took a shower! this is the first time that I've gotten to see Pamela nude, completely nude, in the motel she was always either topless or bottomless, and of course on Friday I was punished, and Pamela remained fully dressed.

 

"Aren't you gong to cuff my hands?" I asked, as Pamela began unlocking my piercing. "Mommy and Master Ron always cuff me so I can't run off and wank." I was instantly ashamed after I'd said that...it sounded so wussy, "Run off" Why can't I sound normal, masculine, like other men? Is , a childhood and adolescence of being forced to wear dresses and humiliating clothes? It's not as if I'm not strong, and when I'm allowed to grow chest hair I sure do. I was captain of several teams in high school, and was a tough tackler..but then when everyone went out to celebrate the game I won, I had to go home and drink tea with white gloves with Mommy and Aunt Sybil.

 

"Creamy, I want to trust you." Pamela said, as she removed the piercing and my cock shot up. This was the first time in nearly a year that my hands and my penis were both unbound at the same time! "Why don't you not focus on your own sex needs, and then you won't be tempted to wankee your willie."  I blushed hotly. "Focus on me, Creamy." And I did. Once under the shower, I began washing Pamela's bare back, her breasts her long, slender neck. God, she's a beautiful woman, with this alabaster skin! Pamela also began washing me all over, teasing my nipples before working her way down to my cock, which she lathered up completely, and then began rubbing, not in the quick, vicious way Mommy cleans me, but very slowly and gently, and my dick liked it!

 Pamela's fingers played around my balls, and her  right forefinger went up my tush briefly as her left hand continued to stroke the glans. At one point she shoved my head down, and as I hit my knees, the water coursing over my head, I began to soggily eat her pussy, and as Pamela pushed my head further between her legs, I licked harder. At some point (Mommy taught me this) I grabbed the portable shower nozzle and shot some water into Pamela's clit, alternately stroking it, until she had a screaming orgasm. At this point, I was dying to cum, my cock, frustrated since late December, was surging to go...

 

Finally Pamela pulled me up and went to work on my dick again, whispering in my ear "Oh baby..is the wee-wee stiff? Real stiff?" Pamela's fingers encircled the shaft looseley,and she imitated my nozzle motion a bit, and my cock got even thrustier, you might say. "I want a man so bad." Pamela breathed in my ear."The guy I was with last weekend...I should've spent the weekend with you, Creamy...oooh yes." Pamela pinched my left nipple.

 

As she rubbed me, Pamela squirmed up against me over and over again, and I began getting excited, and I started humping her, and Pamela did a deft move with the faucet, and jumped out and I was drenched in freezing shower water. Laughing, she kept pushing me back in the shower for about a minute and a half, which felt, of course like a century. Then she pulled me out, and let me dry off. "See, that cooled your ardor didn't it honey?" Pam smiled, and touched my shivering chin. "Didn't your Mommy ever tell you not to rub up on a lady unless invited?"

Captain’s Log: Tuesday, March 3, 2004

Today was so wretched...I feel like I'm getting closer and closer to Pamela, but then she seems to bring Mother into it! After work Pam wanted to drive to our house instead of her place, and she had a mysterious package to show me. We got inside, and Mommy and Mr. Greene were watching the news. Mr Greene looked really happy, I thought. I think he's had a crush on Mommy for years. "Hello, how are you kids?"Mommy asked. Mr Greene also waved, as if he'd not been whipping my bare bottom in the yard three days previous.

 

"Are you staying for dinner...what's in that package, Pamela?" Mommy noticed Pamela setting the oblong package on the table. "Well, I got something today, " Pamela said, "Its for Creamy, of course, I spoil him much too much." I beamed. "I was hoping you might have insights on how to use it, Muriel." My beam faded...this didn't sound good. Mommy got up and came to look at the package, as Pamela began ripping it open. Pamela pulled out a four foot rectangular piece of polished mahogany. Shaped somewhat like a two-by-four, it  had a small hole in the middle.

 

I'd never seen anything like it.Pamela handed it to Mother. "They call it a ball hobble, Muriel. Ron sent it to me from San Francisco. Isn't it interesting." Mommy turned the wooden ball hobble thing over in her hands. "Oh, yes...this isn't new...goes behind his..?" Mommy gestured at my behind. Pamela nodded enthusiastically. Mommy smiled grimly. "I remember these from years ago. I used to use it on this one's daddy.What a new-fangled name "ball hobble" It's called a humbler." Pamela smiled and turned to me. "Creamy, sweetheart, why don't you disrobe?" I shook my head. "This is sick, Pamela. Why are we here? It's not appropriate..."

 

Mommy sighed. "All that lip. I can't believe how what  a sassy thing he's become since his nephew left for California. If Ronald was here, mister, you'd do as you were told!" Mr. Greene stood up, glowering at me. Unbuckling his belt, Mr. Greene snapped it. "You'll do as your lady friend says, boy, or I'll give you a bit more of what you got the other day!" I shook my head, and turned to leave the room, and Greene dragged me back, yanking down my pants and undershorts, and as I struggled, he threw me across the couch. I could probably juggle four guys like him, but when someone is about to discipline me, I become weak as a kitten!

 

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK "Are you going to do as that young lady directs you?" Mr. Greene demanded of me. My pants were congested around my ankles at this point, and my rear was smarting. Mommy snapped her fingers."Creamy, get those clothes off! Do you want Greeney here to have a heart attack?" Finally I stood up, blushing, and stripped off my jacket, tie, vest shirt, pants pink long johns, and socks and shoes dropping them rapidly in a corner. Mommy pointed at the floor, and I sighed deeply again, and kneeled, head down.

 

Pamela dimpled at Mr. Greene. "Thank you for your assistance, Mr..." Mr. Greene smiled at her. "Sigmund Forsythe Greene, miss, been called Greeney since grade school." Pamela kissed his cheek. "Thank you for helping to maintain discipline Greeney." The old satyr blushed and then took one last swipe at my shoulder with his belt. "I'm still Mr. Greene to you, wimp!"

 

Mommy bent me over so I was on my hands and knees, and spread my legs apart, slapping them slightly to rush me.  She put the Humbler across the backs of my thighs right at my butt-crack level. "Now, Pamela...while he's still limp, push his balls through this hole. There you go...stop whining, Creamy, it doesn't hurt that much." "It does!" I whined. Taking a man's testicles and shoving them through a small hole in a piece of wood is not comfortable. Mr. Greene slapped me across the head, and I held my tongue.

 

I just couldn't believe that I was NAKED in front of my next-door neighbor...and he was bu llying me. And why is my girlfriend humiliating me in front of Mommy? I'm in my forties now...it's different from being eighteen, and being tied to the weeping willow tree in the front yard, having my bare ass lambasted by a rubber hose by Mommy and Aunt Sybil while the entire neighborhood watched...I cried then and swore I'd get out one day and not come back..and where am I? Indeed where am I now?

 

"Now, Pamela...his nuts are through the hole, we have to harden him up a little." Mommy said. Mommy bent down and reached under my kneeling body, and began playing with my cock, rubbing it up and down slowly, while Pamela stroked my testicles on the other side of the board, and soon my entire groin filled with cum, though the testicles felt strangled by the board.

 

 All of a sudden, the board was sticking to the backs of my legs, held firm by my testicles. "Now he can't stand up...he has to stay bent over as long as you want him there!" Mommy laughed, and Pam tittered. "Try to stand up, boy." I tried raising my back up to at least just kneel on my knees, but there was a surging pain in my groin area, the scrotum was locked through the goddamn board. I had to stay down on hands and knees...I tried again to get up, and hoped the balls would pull through the hole in the Humbler, but no go...

 

"Well now, do you want to get some dinner?" Mommy smiled at Pamela, and they both stood up

 

. "Greeney is taking me to Red Lobster, why don't you come along?" Pamela looked down at me, naked, bent over doggy style, my scrotum trapped in the evil board. "He'll be that way for a while. Can't stand up.  Can't lie down, since that would rip out his poor gonads. Come on, honey, you'll see him tonight...by the time we get back here, after dinner and maybe seeing the Lord of the Rings thing at the Cineplex, Creamy'll do anything for you." I couldn't look up but I pleaded with Pamela "No, no please...PLEASE. I can't stay bent over, my crotch is in constant pain, and my back hurts!" I began to whimper. Pamela sighed impatiently. "No matter what we do for you, you're unhappy, Creamy...I think you need to have 'alone time' We'll see you back here at ten, I think?" "Eleven-thirty." Greeney chuckled. "tis a long movie!"

 

"I'd like to see Lord of the Rings, too..." I moaned. "No, PG I think, Sonny...you know my rules." As they walked out, Mommy was telling them all about my afternoon matinee "Every two months or so, I'd let him go to an afternoon movie when he was in high school...never at ngiht. And it had to be a nice Disney picture..he had to bring back the ticket...one day he forgot it, and I ripped down his pants in front of the girl he went with..."

 

I knelt there until about ten minutes ago...from six to eleven p.m. I thought when I went limp, I'd be able to slip out of there, but I kept thinking of what Mommy and Pamela and Greeney were putting me through, and I got harder and harder...and I had serious neck and back cramps from all the bending ! Now I am bent over, and Pamela forgot to bring me a doggy bag from Red Lobster, so Mommy  is giving me porridge, cold porridge in the kitchen...and Pamela went home alone...she has another late night 'visitor' What's the point of my life?

Captain’s Log, Wedneday, March 3, 2004

Oh, how I hate the Humbler. Tonight after work Mommy showed Pamela all the interesting things you could do with a man in that wretched instrument--a rectangular board held firmly in the back of the legs by my inserted scrotum. "See, what it is, Pamela, is a pillory for the balls, a ball-stock, sorta." The two were bent over my prone body. Naked again, my testicles through that wretched hole, I was honestly worried my penis and scrotum would chafe from this revolting treatment. Pamela said, however, that if I was a good boy, she would consider letting me spend the night tonight, and that didn't happen--but I couldn't help being a crybaby.

 

"This is what I used to do with his daddy." Mommy said. "I played Mush."

 

 "Mush?" Pamela asked curiously. Mommy went off and came back with her "licorice whip" a long, evil crop with a stinging end, that had found its way on my cock a number of times. "This is lots of fun." Mommy was about to start doing something, and then she hesitated. "Wait, I think I still have the bit." She went into her bedroom and was gone for about ten minutes, during which I remonstrated with Pamela. "Darling please..." I said "This is horribly humiliating. Don't you want our love to grow beyond these putrid sex games?" Pamela clucked her tongue. "This is your life, Creamy. Don't you think I've noticed how hard your little wee-wee gets? It's amazing a man six feet tall would have one so small, but there it's bulged to nearly four inches."

 

Mommy came back, I couldn't see what she'd brought, because of course I was on the floor, looking at her legs and feet...but all of a sudden Mommy reached down and pinched my nipple and I opened my mouth to scream...and this evil metal thing was shoved between my teeth. There seemed to be straps on either side of my head, and then there was a sharp tug from behind, and the metal thing cut into my jaw severely.

 

"This is a bit, like you use on a horse, Pamela" Mommy said, as she gave it another savage tug. Oh, great, I thought. "Now, take the reins, and aim the whip like this, right on the back of his balls that are sticking out of the humbler hole--like this!" WHACK Oh, the pain! I felt this incredible sting on my testicles,which were already painfully engorged through the hole WHACK "Mush!" Mommy screamed WHACK my testicles felt like they were on fire, and I began trying to escape on my hands and knees, in sort of a desperate crawl WHACK WHACK WHACK "Mush! Mush! Mush!" Both women screamed, chasing me around the living room and through the kitchen, dining area and back to the living room again.

 

I am still at home typing this...in a diaper and bonnet for throwing an "anti-humbler" tantrum...Pamela was sad to do it, but she said she was sure to get company elsewhere...aah misery

Captain’s Log, Thursday, March 4, 2004

 

I just don't understand my life...Aunt Sybil called today. She is Mommy on speed. I guess she's what's called a Big Beautiful Woman on the Yahoo groups...Sybil is about 200 pounds on a five eight frame with the last beehive hairdo in America. She looks kind of sexy, if you're into large breasted, huge bottomed women who dress in skin-tight neon green dresses and spike heels.

As I said in a previous e-mail, I was the captain of the football and baseball teams, and ended up going to college on a wrestling scholarship. My teammates always wondered why I showed up for carwash fundraisers, playbook strategy meetings, and practices, but never for parties, beer or girls, which essentially is why guys play football.

 

Mommy, as you k now from this log, is and was very strict. At forty-two, I still have a five p.m. curfew and a 7:30 bedtime. Practice, the coach told Mommy, was usually over at four-thirty, but sometimes could "run over", Mommy and Aunt Sybil, who was living with us for a time after Daddy's death, felt that a good team captain could prevent practice from "running over" When it did happen, and I ran, panting to the house at 5:10 or 5:15, I knew I was in for trouble.

 

When Mommy and Aunt Sybil were in a good mood, the ten minutes lateness was just cause for my pants and shorts being dropped and fifty with the paddle, and thirty with the razor strop. Then I'd be given a big, soapy, ice cold enema to hold for about ten minutes. (Aunt Sybil believed strongly that  adolescent "rebellion" evolved from constipation.)

 

I can still remember being stark on my hands and knees on the bathroom floor--a big, handsome muscular kid-editor of the newspaper and the yearbook, and all the weight lifting trophies in the glass case at the school were mine.

 

Here I was-- squeezing my cheeks shut, my eyes closed, praying that I wouldn't release before the ten minutes was up, Aunt Sybil would stand over me in her gold lame cocktail dress, slapping the strop in her hand."Creamy, I'm just waiting for you to let that thing go before the stopwatch clicks, baby..then you'll get it." Aunt Sybil's sneer was more frightening than even the opposing football team from the local reformatory.

 

What would the guys think of me? Smaller, less athletic boys who I had to lead, and sometimes scream at to put together  a successful scrimmage, were just about to go out with their girlfriends in the car, and here I was, an eighteen year old man, nude  and quivering in front of my thirty-nine year old aunt.

 

And I was almost never able to hold the enema til the time limit...or maybe I did, and Aunt Sybil lied, or pushed the time to fifteen minutes, it didn't matter...after I expelled the nasty, brownish soaking liquid, Aunt Sybil would scream about the possible damage to her spike heels, and then rub my weeping face in the vile, murky puddles on the bathroom floor.

 

 The strap would rise and fall, sometimes forty or fifty times before I fled the john. Then of course I'd be tied down to the bed and whipped even more, Mommy and Aunt Sybil taking turns with paddle and strop, until 7:30 came. That was the only time I was truly grateful for having an early bedtime.

 

Sometimes Aunt Sybil would begin to suspect that I was "touching my nasty"  I'd be called in from wherever I was doing my homework, or watching an approved show, to the living room. I can still remember Sybil sittng on the couch in a snug white sweater and tight black skirt and nylons. "Come to your Auntie, Creamy..."Sybil would croon. I'd just stare, for a moment, but I didn't want her to get up to come after me, so I'd walk over, and resignedly, put my hands behind my back.

 

"Have you been a good boy, Creamy? Auntie's been worrying that you're a little self-abuser again. Wasn't that sad, when you were caught with that vile magazine?" It had been a lingerie catalogue, and Sybil had behaved as if she'd found me with an AIDS ridden transvestite.

 

 She'd bound me hand and foot, naked as always, and whipped my smarting penis with a coat hanger, before burning the catalogue in the back yard, Mommy switching my naked bottom as I watched, hoping no one would walk by. So now I was eager to convince her I'd not been touching myself. "No ma'am, I've not been." I would shake my head vociferously. Often Aunt Sybil would  bind my cock and balls with painful, stretched. rubber bands when I slept to keep me from getting erect during the night, or having a nocturnal emission.

 

That might work, but during the day I was always whacking off in the bathroom stalls, and one day I'd been caught by Melvyn Goldthorpe, who was as geeky as I was athletic. Goldthorpe had actually taken a photo of me, jacking my dick in the shower, and used this as blackmail to get me to suck him off now and again when we had a free period in the afternoons.

 

If I didn't do an excellent job, and have Mel cum within five minutes, he would put my dick in a locker and smash the door on it repeatedly, and then I'd go back on my knees, snuffling, to try it again.

 

 It was an interesting picture--six foot muscular jock sucking off a five five four-eyes with pizza skin. The postive side of the Melvyn problem was, it kept me from jerking off as much as I wanted to, since he made me spend the entire free period working on him, and once I had to fellate all the collected members of the Dungeons and Dragons Club, and the Biology Society...all the geeks got together...it's a wonder my teammates never found out.

 

But as I said, when I couldn't jerk off thanks to Melvyn and the nerds, it got me points with Aunt Sybil, who would have me stand in front of her, hands behind my back, and begin unbuttoning the bottom buttons of my cardigan, and then pulling up my shirt. After tying the shirt-tails in a knot around my belly, Aunt Sybil would unbuckle my pants and pull  them down, followed by my undies.

 

Then Aunt Sybil would take a long silver nail and flick my penis a couple of times, and it would begin to grow, if I'd not beat off that afternoon. Slowly Aunt Sybil would stroke my cock, examining it and my ball sac thoroughly to ensure that the stuff was pumping inside there. Now and again, her daughter Sabrina, who was my age but went to Catholic School, would walk by with Mommy to look at something in the library, and snicker at me, with my drawers at my feet and Sybil stroking and pawing my stiff penis with her deft fingers and silver nails

 

Sabrina was a gorgeous young woman--32 C breasts, thick fluffy blond hair like they had in the eighties--but she  had a weird sense of humor, and once in a while she'd bring a boyfriend from the Catholic School over to our house.

 

Sabrina and Sybil shared a room in the top floor, and generally she was out with her friends til all hours--no discipline for her--"Sabrina is our rose and you are the thorn, we must keep an eye out for you."Mommy'd say--but now and then Sabrina would bring a boyfriend home or sometimes two or three guys from St. Florian's Academy. Fortunately, they did not play in our football league, or I wouldn't have been captain of mine much longer.

 

The incident I'm referring to, is when Sybil was very suspicious that I'd been jerking off every day in the school restroom (It was true; Melvyn and the Biology Society were down with mumps) and she'd consulted her beautiful daughter. So while I was going through my pants-down pee-pee exam, I heard adolescent laughter as Sabrina, her boyfriend Andy and his pals the LaTieri twins (all tough Italians) walked into the living room.

 

Sybil had tied my hands for some mysterious reason this time...I never physically tried to stop her, but sometimes I'd get very horny while her fingers did the talking...was that why she bound them behind my back this day? Sybil looked over at Sabrina and the boys. "Hello there! Darling, how are you and your friends? I'm just examining Creamy here...he seems to have been diddling his doodly again. Aunt Sybil spun me around to face the four teenagers, my face scarlet, and my dick straining from Syb's latest exam.

 

"Like, Creamy, you little perv." Sabrina chuckled, and wiggled her Catholic school skirt.  Although the girls were supposed to wear sexless button down shirts like the boys at St. Florian's, Sabrina always left her shirt a few buttons open..

Sabrina and the boys were staring at me…the boys looked a little horrified, but Sabrina had a big grin on her face. She was used to scenes like this, and had grown up watching me humiliated and abused…Mommy and Aunt Sybil always sided with her in our fights, and had given Sabrina permission to discipline me herself on her twelfth birthday. There’s no weirder feeling than being over the knee of a teenage girl in a tube top and tight jeans, having your bare butt whipped with her Ping-Pong paddle!

 

Now, Sabrina looked at my straining cock. “Do you think he’s been playing with it, Mother? He looks pretty stiff to me.” One of the LaTieri twins whispered to Andy and they all snorted. Aunt Sybil held my bound wrists in one hand and idly massaged my growing prick in the other. The boys eyes bulged. “Honey, he just doesn’t seem as quick to excitement” Aunt Sabrina said, shaking her head…She stroked and pulled my dick over and over again.

“I just thought put ting those rubber bands on his wee-wee would do the trick” Aunt Sybil continued sadly, jerking me even harder…”He is a confirmed sickie,your cousin.” Sabrina considered. “Where are your rubber bands, Mother?” Aunt Sybil paused in her stroking “Right behind you, sweetheart. Why?” Sabrina reached to take the jar of rubber bands off the shelf.

Sabrina took one of the rubber bands, and looped it over the edge of her thumb, pulling the other end with her forefinger. “Well, you know…I hate to see this creep disappointing you, Mom…he might just need—“Sabrina pointed the rubber band at my crotch “—a little reinforcement.” Sabrina let fire the rubber band and it hit me directly on the tip of my straining dick, and I yelped. The boys laughed uproariously, and Sabrina smirked, taking up another rubber band. “Help me out here, guys” she said, passing the jar around

The next hour was absolute hell...they began shooting rubber bands at my penis as I jumped and squealed over and over again...the humiliation of having young men my own age, and actually not even as athletcially gifted as I shooting these horrible pieces of rubber at my naked dick were incredibly nasty, I actually began to cry, and the guys laughed themselves to death over this! This was even worse...Sybil had my hands held behind, of course, and she was whispering in my ear constantly"honey, yo know you're just a little girl yourself at heart...when you got that big all state trophy, I was sitting in the audience wondering,just wondreing, what is this doing, is it blowing up Creamy's ego to a point the poor child cant' stand it?"

 

Tears were streaming down my cheeks like a waterfall...and I was biting my lip as the nasty rubber bands hit my glans, my testes, and various other points on my cock and balls...they just wouldn't stop. Mommy and Aunt Sybil had been putting old rubber bands in the damn jar for the last eight years from discarded grocery bags and that sort of thing, and it seemed like they'd never get done shooting them at me!

 

I began begging Sabrina"Please Sabrina OW please don't OW OW OW OW OW (one of theLaTiere twins was quite a good shot) PLEASE, PLEASE STOP, I CAN'T STAND IT ANYMORE...OOOH PLEASE IT HURTS SO MUCH! but there was nothing to stop it...

Afterwards I was put in the corner, pants down, and wrists still bound, crying while the other kids enjoyed cokes and snacks in front of the TV... a couple of times one of the La Tieri twins shot some bands at my bare butt and I just jumped and squealed, what else could I do?

Captain’s Log: Tuesday, March 09, 2004

 

My memories of the humiliation by Aunt Sybil and Sabrina have been haunting me further…it’s true that after I finished high school, Aunt Sybil found work in the Midwest, and she and Sabrina moved away, but often I’ve thought of the effect they had on me. Sabrina, who I’ve not seen in 20 years, was such a cruel little thing, and I see a lot of her behavior in Pamela, I’m afraid. Pamela just can’t get over the idea that I’ll do almost anything when she’s got me all excited. Last night, Pamela spent an hour and a half stroking my tumescent cock, running her fingers all over the sweating head, and  pulling lazily on my balls…I was allowed to stay  at her house, and it’s been a lot easier when I’m away from Mommy, though Pamela is really no  less strict.

 

She’s got me on the same housekeeping regimen that Mommy did—scrubbing the bathroom and kitchen, vacuuming the dining and living rooms, and washing walls—and Pam demands that I still help Mommy clean her house as well… Pam has me clean in the nude, and enjoys grinding her hips while lying on a beanbag in the living room, and this often makes my piercing shake, as my cock tries to become hard…I looked really rather pitiful last night, wheeling the vacuum around  stark naked, my penis trembling in its cruel prison…Pamela kept shaking her damn booty at me…what the hell’s wrong with that girl?

 

Then of course she tied me to the bed, and began her eternal stroke…first she stroked me while I was still in the piercing, watching to see if the penis would rip as it bulged, straining at the tiny, shaking padlock. Finally, though, Pamela unlocked me, and began stroking with a vengeance, and oh, God, what she can do with her hands! Pamela stroked the glans with two fingers, grazing  the sensitive frenum with the “fuck you” finger, and then rubbing her thumb and fore finger along the shaft…I was really shaking after about thirty minutes---remember, I’ve not cum since before Ron left town. I keep wondering—will she ever let me cum? Doesn’t Pamela want to see what it’s like when I cum? You’d think so, wouldn’t you?

 

After a bit, Pamela took off her miniskirt and panties and climbed over my face, her butt towards me, and lowered herself on my mouth…and I’ve had thirty years of cunt-licking experience, and I gave her plenty of intense pleasure…my cock got harder and harder, and as she lowered her pussy, grinding it onto my lips, Pamela continued to stroke and tweak my cock here and there, first she’d pump it madly, and then just drum her fingers on it as if she were playing a flute! Finally, after she’d cum twice, Pamela inched forward until her buttocks were rubbing my straining cock as her butt danced back and forth, while my cock bounced against her butt and legs.

 

She put on the old song by Ace of Base “All I want to do…is have some fun…” and she shook her butt for what seemed to be an hour, rubbing my cock with it, and then whisking it away as my poor penis looked like it was getting friction…ooh. what an experience! I gritted my teeth, and closed my eyes, but there was no use, concentrating didn’t help, when Pamela’s butt wouldn’t stay close enough to my cock to give me the final “rub” towards completion, as it were. I kept hoping I’d break the bonds of the rope “If you can break the rope, honey” Pam said “Maybe you can get your dick inside me…grab my hips..but you won’t break it, Creamy… I was a Girl Scout!” Pamela laughed, and just barely plopped her pussy over my streaming, purpleish cock, rubbed her buttocks, and  pulled off again.

 

 

Finally, Pamela climbed off me and put a clothespin on the tip of my penis, and went into the other room to sleep on the couch as I lay tied to her bed, my penis in incredible pain, aroused as it was…

Captain's Log, Thursday, March 12, 2004

 

I have been so distressed...in the last couple of days I've not even had the energy to write. This is incredible! Mr. Greene, the old pervert next door has moved in on Pamela! I didn't say too much when he got involved with Mommy, but what can my gorgeous 26 year old girlfriend see in some seventy year old ex-bus driver?

 

One night Mommy needed the car, so Mr. Greene drove us home to take the BMW back to Mommy...and Pamela invited him in. I thought we were all going to sit around and have drinks, but Pamela has really begun enjoying me in the humbler...so she stripped me down, cuffed my hands, and put my scrotum through the evil board, and I had to lie there as Mr. Green and Pamela talked about John Kerry's chances. The next night, I'd agreed to come over to Pamela's and Green was already there!

 

I walked in on them ...they weren't undressed, but she had his shirt open, and was massaging his chest. Green was whispering something in her ear, and when I walked in, Pamela just looked up at me. It was late, as I'd been invited to speak to a management class at the local university.

 

 When I came in, I tried to look outraged, and Pamela looked up at me, smiling lazily. "Creamy, why don't you go into the bedroom and put on your pajamas. You'll be staying in my guest bedroom tonight." Green chuckled, and I stomped off and changed into my pajamas with the pink stripes that Mommy bought me recently. They aren't the footie pajamas I had to wear in high school, but nearly as childish, I think.

 

I came out and tried to reason with Pamela. "Honey..." I begged." Give me a break here...you said we were going to have time for ourselves." Pamela smiled at Green, and cocked her head at me. "He's tired, I think I'll have to put him to bed." This enraged me,and I shouted at her. "I'm not getting what I want out of this relationship, dammit!" Green got up  and grabbed me, and threw me across the sofa arm, dragging down my pajama bottoms. Off came his belt, and I got thirty, really much too hard.

 

I spent the rest of the evening in the corner...crying bitterly as the n ew couple necked and fondled all evening...

Captain's Log, Friday, March 13, 2004

 Well, it's definite. Aunt Sybil is coming to visit! Pamela and Mr. Green must've got sick of my pouting, because I've been sent back to Mommy's to stay. I just don't understand it--Pamela and I have made arrangements to live together, and I'm paying her rent now, and I still live at Mommy's most nights--and now Aunt Sybil will be coming home! Mommy gave me an evil smile as she finished talking with Sybil on the phone. "Do you miss Aunt Sybil, Creamy?" she asked maliciously. "She kept you in line, didn't she? I told her how you think you're a big, tough investment banker fellow...and Aunt Sybil scolded me for discontinuing your daily enemas. But she was good at helping you with your exercises, do you remember that?"

 

Do I. Whenever the doctor saw me, Aunt Sybil and Mommy went over the report very carefully. At one time I was ten pounds overweight, and Aunt Sybil decided she was going to get me in shape, and it was actually thanks to her that I made it onto the football team, from being a flabby tired guy just a few years before. Modern day dieting experts warn of checking the scale daily...because your weight will fluctuate no matter what you do, sometimes you'll actually gain a pound after having dieted all day...but Aunt Sybil didn't care. Every day after school, she and Mommy would have me strip down and climb on the scale...Aunt Sybil's ridiculously ambitious goal for me was four pounds per week...if I hadn't at least lost two pounds by Wednesday, then she'd take me to the couch, and bend me over the arm rest, energetically flaying me with her western cowhide belt until I'd scream and weep in frustration and pain...

 

And God knows,  I tried to diet, I lived for days on carrot sticks and water...those beatings were not mild!  Aunt Sybil helped by awakening me early in the morning...sometimes she'd take me through calisthentics, and then have me jog behind her car, as she shouted out enthuisasm...when she was especially frustrated with me, it would be a bit more dramatic. Once she chased me around the block at 3 a.m. with Sabrina's crop from riding classes!  We put a chin-up bar between the the walls of the door way in my room. Mommy took the door off long ago, she said I didn't need privacy,since I'd just use it to abuse myself. Sybil would have me do chin ups with my pants down around my ankles, and she'd begin hitting me right in the ass with her cowhide whenever I wasn't going fast enough--which was incredibly amusing to Sabrina and her friends.

 

Sabrina had been expelled from the Catholic school for a stupid prank--they told her she had to wear a bra, so she wore one on the outside of her shirt. After a few weeks in the public schools, Sabrina caused much too much trouble between warring boyfriends, and teachers, male and female who had enjoyed her favors. Finally she was sent to the town vocational school where she met juvenile delinquents as depraved as she was...and she began bringing them home to witness my debasement.

 

One of the most humiliating afternoons I suffered was one where I was doing stretching exercises...most people have done them--you get on your tip toes  and stand  straight up, with your hands out or behind you..and stay that way for as long as possible. Sabrina enjoyed watching me do this, and one day she had a couple of black gang members hanging out at our house...they all were in a hairdressing class or something. After I'd pushed myself up a couple of times, Sabrina came over to where I was exercising, and pulled my shorts down, and began playing her long fingers over my straining penis...as she rubbed further, I began to get excited, and lowered myself down to my heels, at which Sabrina stopped stroking!

 

Looking at my disappointed face, Sabrina shook a long nail at me. "If you want me to rub you, you'd better stay on your toes!" So I rose onto my toes again, as the gang guys began hooting and  making cat calls...Sabrina rubbed longer and longer. I knew that if I stayed on my toes long enough, I'd end up cumming in her hands..she'd probably make me eat it after that, but it would still be worth it!  Sabrinat tickled my cock,and moved the knob back and forth until I was panting heavily. "Look at the white boy puffin, Reggie!" All of a sudden a crushed beer can hit me in the head, and I fell back on my toes. Sabrina instantly stopped rubbng, but she turned to Reggie and his friend, and shook her finger"Now fellows, leave us to do this...isn't he in horrible shape? This will strengthen his stomach muscles."

 

But after ten more minutes of masturbation, my legs began to shake, and I went back down on my heels, and Sabrina stopped rubbing me...and then I went back up, and began standing again, and her glorious hands returned to my shaft...but then I felt a little exhausted, and my arches were in terrible pain...but I was so close to cumming! Suddenly, Sabrina pushed me and I fell back on my heels again. "That's not fair!" I protested..."Mother?" Sabrina called calmly "Creamy is yelling at me, and making racial epithets at my friends!" I can't tell you how Aunt Sybil behaved after that, but in the ensuing struggle to get away, with my shorts around my knees, I must've lost eight pounds worming over things...oooh what a memory, and she's coming back!

Captain's Log, Saturday, March 14, 2004

Tonight, Pamela and I went to a local, vaguely legal casino. She was wearing one of those shiny blue things that are supposed to be dresses..but it barely covered her boobs and went to just below her thighs. She had fishnets on, and was loaded for bear.

 

She spent a good deal of my money playing blackjack at various tables, and this was fun, I guess for her...but then she began flirting with young men,and one in particular apparently impressed her, so she began buying him chips with my Visa card. He was a terrible player, and lost quite a bit, but was cheery, considering Pamela had her arm around him, and was whispering sweet nothings in his ear.

 

After a time, she came to me and said "Creamy, why don't we take Mario home with us?" At this point I think I've given up arguing with her. Between her taking Mr. Green as a lover, her collusion with my mother to humiliate me, and the various other unkindnesses she's put me through, Pamela clearly is not interested in treating me like any sort of human being. The results of my Yahoo!  poll were disappointing...most of the slave-boys think I should stay with this absurdity, but  I just don't know.

 

In the car, I was driving up front, and they were necking in the back, but Mario tried to make some nervous conversation with me. "So you're her boyfriend, huh?" he asked nervously. "This is okay? An open marriage thing?" Pamela began laughing her ass off. "Open for me, Mario...Creamy couldn't get laid in a women's prison with a handful of pardons." Oh, did I feel humiliated.

 

The only time I felt worse driving was when Mommy caught me speeding in high school, and made me drive with out any pants or undies, to ensure I'd give no cop reason to stop me...

 

Back at the house, the guy kept looking at me nervously. Pamela had told him that I was her boyfriend, and I think he worried that I might get jealous; after all, Pam was stroking his cock through the jeans, and I was just sitting there watching them, and clenching my fists. And I was a good deal bigger than him...oh, but did she put me in my place.

 

I looked at Mario and gritted my teeth, and he quaked a bit...but Pamela was watching this with an amused eye...and she noted that I was tapping my fist in my right hand a little bit...I thought, foolishly that I could get the guy to leave on his own, and then I'd have a nice evening with my girl...but ho ho! No chance.

 

"What's wrong Mario? Are you weirded out by Creamy? He is awfully possessive, isn't he?" Pamela got up off the couch and sauntered over to me, her breasts jiggling in the tiny blue thing. "Honey, you really shouldn't be macho-ing around like that...come back with me into the bedroom.."

 

We went into the bedroom, where she had me strip and put on a woman's teddy and red polish on all twenty of my nails. Pamela had some of that bright blue eye shadow from the seventies, and I got that and rouge and heavy lipstick.  Pamela topped it off with that ridiculous wig that Mommy has kept for me for years, and had me step into some high heels...and she pushed me back into the living room.

 

Now my head hung low, and I tottered on the heels. "Jesus, what the fuck'd you do to him, Pammy?" Mario was really surprised. He's one of these Jersey Italians,  kind of like Christopher in the Sopranos..."He some kinda freak?"

Pam grinned. "No, I just wanted you to understand the nature of our relationsbip. I live with Creamy, and I think he'll be a great husband one day, but we're not--that way, you know?" My head hung lower, and a tear ran down my cheek, leaking mascara.

 

 "See?" Pamela dragged down my panties. "His dick is in a piercing...he can't even cum...can't jerk off!"  Mario looked at my groin in horror. The piercing, a Prince Albert, is rather shocking to the untutored eye, and my dick was bulging and purple just then, from several months of constant teasing and no release...it looked like a python about to jump.

Captain's Log, Monday, March 16, 2004

I am continuing the story now about Mario the club bum that Pamela picked up, though there have been some VERY DISTRESSING TIMES going on at the group...this business of Pamela posting unorthodox pics has been very bad...and she just gave me a blistering hairbrush spanking because "Schumi told me to" But, isn't Schumi a SUBMISSIVE? He tells you what to do...I'm disgusted. Schumi, just check out the "Sampix" file I put in there, about my adolescent humiliation! You can also see the pics of Sam herself...she is obviously insane.

 

Back to the other story:

Mario looked at me in my drag outfit unbeleivably... I was quivering. It just seems like whenever I try to get on top, Pamela brings me back to being a slave...the guy, who is about four inches shorter than I am, began swaggering around. "So you're a faggo, ain't you? Well, I'll take care of your girl here!" Pamela nudged me. "Say Yes, Master Mario" I shook my head. Pamela reached over to the table behind me and grabbed a thick wooden paddle, and used it on my ass about ten times. WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK...Finally I mumbled "Yes (sob) Master Mario..." My lip was trembling, more from the humiliation than anything else.

 

Pamela smiled at Mario and came up, putting her arms around his neck. "You're a tough guy, Mario...just ignore poor Creamy. He is having power issues."  Mario looked at me and snorted "Looks like he's havin' lotsa issues, baby...a drag queen. How could you get yourself involved with a drag queen." But I'm not a drag queen, I wanted to scream. My hands were clutching into fists, and one of my bright red press-on nails fell on the floor. Mario stroked Pamela's soft blonde hair, and kissed her ear (Very inappropriate) and she put her arms around his neck and smiled at him. "Honey, you are what I've wanted for so long." she smiled. "I get sick of hanging out with girls, you know?" They both looked at me and sneered.

 

As upset as I was, my dick was beginning to attempt an erection...this was just too much. Did it have to be so obvious that I was excited by this trauma? Part of the trouble is, I've not cum in so long....all that backed up sperm is making it so I get erect at the sight of a watermelon What the helll is it, no one wants to give me an orgasm? Couldn't I just have the key to the piercing for what, ten minutes? I work hard...can't I cum? But Pamela is as heartless as Mommy or Ron ever were...my dick was moving about in the piercing and try as I mgiht to think about icebergs or baseball scores, and the erection did not, repeat, DID NOT, go away...

 

 Pamela looked at my erection, and pretended to be frightened. "Oh, Mario...his dick is twitching in that pierce thing. He might try to rape me...will you kick it?" She looked imploringly at Mario and he swaggered up and kicked me right in my pierced dick, and I tripped over the heels and fell on my knees.  Mario took off his belt and began hitting me with it "Get outa here, you perv! Get outa the house!" Alarmed, I looked up at him, and then at Pamela...She was smiling "get him out of here, Mario!"

 

Mario got in my face..."You little weirdo...how can you have a hard dick...you're threatening my new girlfriend." I gulped. "But she's my girlfriend...you are just a bar pick-up, you greasy---" That was it, he got me with an uppercut, and I fell to the ground, and then I arose, and he hit me in the face with the belt buckle... and then he kicked me. "I'm going to kill you, freak!" Mario hit me again and again, and I began scrambling out of the apartment. I swear before I left, I thought I saw Pamela stroking herself...

 

He chased me around with the belt until finally I ran out of the apartment and down the stairs, Mario chasing me. Finally I wound up outside. It was dark, but the bushes wouldn't quite cover me. Mario went back inside. I was quivering. I saw a cop come by, and I decided to get even with Mario...I came up to him and said "Officer, I am being persecuted by a lunatic in my fiancee's apartment. He was hitting me with a belt. I am a known banker and professional in this area." I got rather haughty. The cop looked at me up and down, and then I remembered the make-up, plus my bloody nose and lip from Mario's punches...and of course how I was dressed...

As soon as I
got into Mommy's house (I am thrown out of Pam's for bitching all the
time about the humiliation) Mommy took me by the ear and showed me
the e-mails she'd read. I don't know how she got my password, but she
did!
"You are filthy!" Mommy screamed. "Forty-two years old, and you are a
dirty old man! Do you know what that means? You can't handle being a
grown up, so you have to revert to being a little boy again!" I had
been staying up later and watching Law and Order, and Mommy had been
so busy with Greeny, that she didn't say much...and now it came to
this. "You know what this means" Mommy smiled. "It's time for the
Donald Duck suit." Oh, how I hate the Donald Duck suit.

I went to the closet and took out the blue sailor suit and sailor
beret that Mommy has been making me wear on and off since my teens.
She's enlarged it, and replaced torn parts, but it's essentially the
same suit. When I began going out with Barbara in my junior year of
college, Mommy got sick of me never being around to clean the
bathroom and stuff...so she made me answer the door for Barbara
wearing the Donald Duck sailor suit one night. "What's this?" Barbara
had asked, her lovely hazel eyes quite confused. "Blue shorts? What
the hell's that hat? Are we going to a costume party or something?"

Then Mommy came out of her room with an awful wooden paddle that was
cut and shaped like a hand with four fingers and a thumb..it was
called "The Loving Hand" and was it BIG. Mommy smiled at Barbara, who
of course was dressed in a college girl belly shirt and cut-offs
(well,we were at least both wearing shorts) Barbara had had questions
about why I couldn't see her at night, and why I had to run home
after class...I'd sneaked out a few times, but it had been extremely
difficult. Mommy now smiled at Barb. "How are you? I understand
you're Creamy's new friend..."She smiled, and looked over at
me. "Creamy you can go play with your new friend, but first I must
punish you...you didn't wash all my panties. Now I don't know whether
there's a picture of my mother in the files there, but she is a large-
boned blonde, with huge tits, and she was dressed in a snug leather
outfit...and high heeled boots. I think Barbara wondered whether she
was stoned.

"Mommy, please" I pleaded with her..."Let's discuss...you can punish
me later, honey." Mommy shook her head, and led me to the sofa. "No
no, sweet-ums...little boys forget why they're being punished if it's
not done immediately." Turning her head, Mommy smiled at
Barbara. "It'll just take a few minutes, dear. Why don't you get some
Kleenex over there? Creamy's a bit of a crybaby." I tried to pull
away, but Mommy had my belt in her long nails, and she unbuckled it,
grinning. "Please, please, Mommy...I really like this girl" A tear
trickled down my cheek. Damn it! Why do the tears come so much?

Mommy pulled my navy-blue shorts down over my high socks and saddle
shoes, and then began dragging down my tightie whities. "I know you
like her, baby...why else would you climb out of your window after
your seven-thirty"Mommy shouted this part, just so the stunned
Barbara could hear--"BEDTIME." Down came my white underpants, and I
was bent over the arm of the sofa, still protesting "Mommy, I'm
twenty-one years old.I can--I was back by ten--0W!" WHACK WHACK WHACK
WHACK WHACK WHACK

"Oh, honey...why are you such a bad boy..."Mommy said sadly,with
gritted teeth. WHACK WHACK WHACK I screamed and howled but the Loving
Hand kept falling, again and again. I could feel the fingers...(I
hope Pamela doesn't post a pic of the Hand, for God's sake) When the
whipping was over, I dropped to my knees and bawled, and Barbara
could see my dick sticking out, hard. What does one say to a 20 year
old college half-back and wrestling captain...who is wearing a boy's
sailor suit from 1925...and the pants are over the knees?

Barbara left almost immediately, but to her credit, the next day in
the Student Union, she talked to me, waving her arms. "Your mother is
sick! Why don't you get out of there! I really like you, Creamy...and
we could have a life together. You are kind and very masculine...when
you're not near your mom!" I sighed, and told Barbara I couldn't
leave Mommy yet...what a mistake that was! The next and last time
Barbara came by with two of her girlfriends, Mommy made me answer the
door in bonnet and diaper..but that's another story.

The whole point is, Mommy is taking out the sailor Donald Duck suit
to make me wear it again! It's just NOT FAIR!